The good news was that Sean was planning to finish five books.
They were Selection and Illumination of Alchemical Materials, Aether and the Secret Laws of Combination, The Power of Ancient Runes in Alchemy, Runic Engraving and Vessel Construction, and A Deep Analysis of Alchemical Rituals—
corresponding to materials, combinations, runic signs, runic engraving, and—most important—ritual.
The more he studied, the more he felt wizards were hypnotizing themselves.
For example: [The death and resurrection of the dragon symbolizes the decomposition and purification of matter].
Selection and Illumination of Alchemical Materials says that adding dragon's blood can make an alchemical construct purer and more stable.
But it's hard to say whether it's really the dragon's blood doing the work.
Because later in the same book it also says: dragon's blood destroys the purity of an alchemical construct—it breaks down the components and imbues the work with the dragon's destructive aspect.
So how, exactly, should dragon's blood be used?
Headmaster Dumbledore, accordingly, wrote out Twelve Uses of Dragon's Blood.
Those uses are full of internal tension, often citing utterly different methods.
Sean had a strange feeling: dragon's blood acts according to what the wizard wants it to do.
Everything in alchemy exists to serve the wizard; the more a wizard believes in alchemy's power, the more power alchemy will return.
At that point ritual is the bridge that binds the two.
Thus alchemy's vagueness becomes inevitable, because in its essence it is an art, not a science.
It depends on a wizard's ever-shifting mental state, on ineffable symbolic associations and personal magical intuition. Two wizards using exactly the same knowledge and tools, following the very same guide, may end up with wildly different results—because "belief" cannot be standardized or replicated.
After Sean wrote down his reflections, the snow outside began falling again.
The snow beyond Hogwarts was thick and stratified—soft flakes drifting down, compacting day after day into something hard and cold, while the surface stayed fluffy enough to roll into snowballs.
In the Hope Nook.
Justin worked a portable oven, baking biscuits; Sean quietly engraved runic characters.
The seating in the Nook was laid out like this—Sean sat in the center, Justin to his left, Hermione to his right.
In front sat Neville, tending the little "garden" at the front—so many plants that they filled the whole dais and rose in tiered shelves.
Behind were Harry and Ron: one liked studying Transfiguration, the other Charms.
Because the chairs had been transfigured into semi-enclosed booths, privacy wasn't a worry.
The graver was just warm to the touch—Sean knew he had finished the Howler.
[You practiced Howler crafting at an Adept standard. Proficiency +10]
[A new Alchemy-domain title has been unlocked. View]
[A new wizard aptitude has been unlocked. View]
Sean decided to view his alchemy aptitude last; first he checked the domain title.
[Title: Alchemy—Initiate]
[Slightly increases sensitivity to alchemical magic; slightly boosts alchemical aptitude]
As expected. He held his breath and read on:
[Wizard Sean, Alchemy Aptitude: Gold. Note: the average wizard is Green]
[Evaluation: Creation and reform, exploration and the unknown—you are an irreplaceable pathfinder on the way of alchemy. If you fulfill this aptitude, you will leave a back for alchemists to chase.]
So then—am I enough to stand alongside… Nicolas Flamel?
Sean froze.
Suddenly something clicked.
Flight and alchemy aptitudes must overlap greatly: if his flight aptitude was Gold, then his alchemy aptitude would hardly be weak.
A broom, after all, is an alchemical construct.
At the same time he remembered how low the proficiency thresholds were in the flight domain—only 30 points to go from Apprentice to Beginner.
If flight aptitude is a corollary of alchemy aptitude, that would make sense.
So his true aptitudes were actually sunk into the Dark Arts and Alchemy?
Just then, the panel chimed louder than ever—ding—.
A line appeared beneath that golden alchemy aptitude:
[You have unlocked three Legendary aptitudes and broken the edge of legend. One aptitude cap has been raised.]
What… is this?
Sean scrolled down in surprise:
[New wizard aptitude: Red (0/1) (requires any magic domain to unlock a Legendary title)]
He blanked again. He had thought Legendary was the ceiling—yet there was more?
So vast is magic: as long as you keep walking, there is always a road ahead.
Above Legend… what lies there?
Sean knew:
[Expert] corresponds to a fully grown wizard;
[Master] to Hogwarts professors;
[Legend] perhaps to Dumbledore and Voldemort.
And beyond Legend?
What would that be?
Just thinking it, he felt his passion for magic surge.
As he pondered, a sssz sounded—Justin's biscuits were fresh from the oven.
Seeing them, Sean felt he was still early on the road to fusing Transfiguration with alchemy.
If Owl Biscuits can be made, then Bear Biscuits, Beetle Biscuits, Lion Biscuits are all feasible.
Their difficulty lies only in how well Sean understands those animals.
The path of alchemy and Transfiguration is long; Sean felt he needed first to master "self → living" transfiguration.
To sprout wings, or turn into a shark's head and dive—that would be good.
In a moment Voldemort's flight posture slid into Sean's mind—Voldemort could become a cloud of black smoke and fly; was that a special transfiguration?
He flicked his wand.
[You practiced an advanced Transfiguration once at an Adept standard. Proficiency +30]
The elm bookshelf gave a slow shiver; a plank, as if receiving a command, spat out a notebook with a dark-green cover.
Sean sighed a little. Ever since Transfiguration reached Expert and passed one hundred thousand proficiency, the gains from lower-standard practice had fallen off sharply.
Just like learning nonverbal spells back then—it forced him to explore deeper fields.
He took the dark-green notebook: Professor McGonagall's notes on self-transfiguration, with Animagus techniques tucked inside.
As he looked at it, the panel words flashed in his mind:
"Creation and reform," "exploration and the unknown," "an irreplaceable pathfinder in alchemy"…
And then words appeared on Professor Tayra's notebook too:
[You will feel it in the end, child—why must we study alchemy?
I write this here to remind you—and myself once more: we must always look at things with different eyes.
We explore the mysteries of alchemy because we are wizards, and wizards are full of creativity and passion.
We have the magic to change the world—so why be willing to stand still in mediocrity?
That is my answer—and perhaps it will be yours.]