The Fairy Tale Workshop had closed for the day. This magical little shop ran on a schedule unlike any other store, with its own quirky opening hours and purchasing rules.
Its business periods came and went like a sparrow perched on the eaves—there one second, gone the next with a quick flutter.
What surprised everyone was that every single wizard who stepped out of the shop was beaming. Thanks to the invitation-only system and strict purchase limits, nobody could buy a ton of stuff… but at the same time, everyone walked away with exactly the sets they wanted.
As Sean stepped out alongside Professor McGonagall, he automatically scanned the street—and immediately spotted a whole sea of bright red hair.
The Weasleys. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, plus Ron and the others a little farther off.
Mrs. Weasley still looked giddy with excitement. The Ministry of Magic had a long-term interest in the shop's products, but after the first official purchase, hardly any of the Enforcement folks had received invitations.
So the fact that Mr. Weasley got one made him one of the lucky few. The Department was more than happy to slip him some extra Galleons for a little "cooperation."
Mr. Weasley, bless him, completely missed the hint and just thought the Ministry was being unusually generous for once.
"I've never seen anything so incredible," Mrs. Weasley was saying, clutching a bag stuffed with a hundred Galleons. "Turns into an actual fire-breathing dragon? If Charlie knew about this, he'd save up for months."
She sounded almost dreamy. "If you could get assigned to these jobs every time, Arthur… Now we can finally buy Ginny a couple of nice new dresses."
"Before we meet up with the kids, we deserve a celebratory butterbeer, Molly," Mr. Weasley said, grinning from ear to ear. The two of them headed off toward the Leaky Cauldron.
Sean glanced at them once, then turned his attention back to the book in his hands.
Soul Transfiguration.
It was a set of notes Professor Tela had hurriedly put together, full of things Sean had heard of but never really dug into.
For example:
[In the deeper history of magic, the soul can be split. Yet both astral projection and bodily fragmentation have always been considered acts of the devil.
According to old Scandinavian belief, a person can divide their soul into multiple pieces—but only by performing an act tied to the devil: murder.
This aligns perfectly with the Roman Church's teachings—that those who split their spirit, soul, or physical form are servants of Satan.
They think they're chasing immortality, but they've only made themselves slaves to death.]
It felt like a different take on Secrets of the Darkest Art. Sean couldn't help wondering if Vagadu's wizards had basically written their own version of that book with their research on soul transfiguration.
If so, he was definitely going to have some critiques.
Around noon, Sean needed to restock the joke shop, while Professor McGonagall headed to Twilfitt and Tatting's—apparently her favorite place in Diagon Alley.
On the way to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Soul Transfiguration floated silently in front of Sean, pages turning on their own as he absorbed every word.
Weirdly, even though the content was dense and complicated, he understood it almost instantly.
Diagon Alley was bathed in sunlight, wizards strolling along the cobblestone streets. Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts jingled happily in pockets, practically begging to be spent.
"My dad works in a really boring department," Ron's voice carried from nearby. He was walking with Justin Finch-Fletchley, heading straight toward Sean. "Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office."
"What does that even mean?" Justin asked.
"It means they stop people from enchanting Muggle stuff, in case it ends up back in a Muggle shop or house. Like last year—an old witch died, and her tea set got sold to an antique shop. Some Muggle lady bought it, took it home, had her friends over for tea… total nightmare. Dad had to pull weeks of overtime."
"What happened?"
"The teapot went berserk—boiling tea spraying everywhere. One guy ended up in the hospital because the sugar tongs clamped onto his nose. Dad and this old wizard named Perkins were the only ones in the office. They had to use Memory Charms and all sorts of cover-ups…"
Justin, who'd never really heard about Ministry departments, was fascinated. "That sounds awesome, Ron. Your dad works in a really cool department. I bet he's helped a ton of people. That's something to be proud of."
Ron blinked, totally thrown. "Uh… yeah, I guess? I never really thought about it like that…"
He mumbled awkwardly until he spotted Sean.
"Sean! Finally found you!"
"Is this about Harry?" the badge on Sean's robe spoke up.
"How'd you know?" Ron asked, baffled.
"Wasn't hard to guess."
The badge answered for him.
"Why haven't you been talking lately?" Justin whispered suddenly.
"I've been working on my Animagus transformation."
"Oh!"
"Right!"
Ron and Justin both lit up like they'd just been let in on the world's biggest secret.
…
They were waiting in the Leaky Cauldron to meet up with Hermione and the others—who'd gone looking farther down the street. While they waited, they overheard Mr. and Mrs. Weasley loudly praising someone.
"Of course, Molly dear, getting that invitation had a lot to do with that Greengrass boy—and you too, naturally…"
"Invitation… you mean that shop?" Justin murmured thoughtfully.
"Oh—uh—yeah—" Ron suddenly looked even more nervous than Sean. He'd promised Sean he wouldn't tell a soul. What if Justin started asking questions?
"The shop called Fairy Tale Workshop," Justin went on calmly, "the alchemical workshop owned by the alchemist who got a huge feature in the Daily Prophet's 'Ten Years of Influence' edition and even has his own Chocolate Frog card…"
He looked straight at Sean. "There's only one wizard that fits the description. It's you, isn't it, Sean?"
"No—uh—" Ron blurted instinctively.
"Yeah," Sean said simply.
"Yeah?!" Ron's jaw dropped. He'd been ready to come up with the most elaborate lie ever, and the guy he was supposed to keep the secret from just… gave up?
"I had a feeling," Justin said, breaking into a huge grin.
"Oh. Well. Since you're cool with it…" Ron muttered.
"My mom always says," Justin continued, and Ron quieted down, listening curiously.
"No matter how messy the world gets, there's always someone walking around handing out flowers.
No matter how many liars and cheats there are, there's always someone living with a totally open heart."
Justin smiled softly.
He'd been knocking on a door that had been half-open the whole time.