Sean and the others had signed a notice forbidding the use of magic, so at the station he could only drag his trunk by hand instead of using a Levitation Charm.
Professor McGonagall took his hand, and amid the noise and bustle, they arrived in Diagon Alley.
As always, the professor was quickly distracted by Twilfitt and Tatting's. Even though his trunk was already full to bursting, she was still picking out summer clothes.
Sean was quietly thinking; Justin's last words had stuck with him.
Right— they were all Muggle-born wizards, which meant when the Chamber of Secrets opened, they would be obvious targets.
Sean didn't know if he could defeat a basilisk in his current state, but his Transfiguration had already reached the final threshold of Master— just one thousand more proficiency points and he'd break through.
Once he settled at the Burrow, he'd finally be able to unlock Master-level Transfiguration.
That would become his strongest branch of magic.
Of course, if things ever grew truly dire, he'd flip over another card.
[Title: Saint of the Dark Arts (Expert)]
[Greatly increases perception of Dark Arts, greatly boosts Dark Arts talent, and broadly improves mastery over all Dark spells]
Ever since Dark Arts reached Expert, he'd unlocked a new, special talent.
Put simply: it amplified the power of Dark spells and improved his control over the emotions tied to them.
That made him even more aware how crude his overall control still was. He guessed that as wizards aged, what really improved was not just raw magic, but the ability to handle it.
Sean might be able to draw out eighty percent of his magic's potential; already quite good.
Someone like Professor McGonagall, though, could reach a full hundred— and, with her mental strength on top, twice that.
Sean looked further down:
[Wizard Sean – Dark Arts Talent: Gold (augmented by Saint of the Dark Arts). Note: most wizards are Green]
[Evaluation: You are a once-in-centuries genius in the Dark Arts. The Dark Arts will embrace you of their own accord. You are a born king of Dark magic.]
Sean sighed. He could feel the Dark Arts had, indeed, started hugging back.
[Impediment Jinx: Master (100 / ?)]
[Reducto: Expert (2000 / 9000)]
[Sectumsempra: Expert (3000 / 9000)]
…
[Advance: Seven Master-level Dark spells will unlock the Dark Arts Master title]
Beyond Master, there seemed to be another stage altogether.
Sean could no longer even see the proficiency bar.
That didn't stop his Master-level Impediment Jinx from evolving; what had once targeted only a single object now applied to everything within a defined area.
"Professor, can I go by the joke shop for a bit?"
Sean went over to where McGonagall was comparing blouses. She agreed without hesitation.
"Oh, children all love that place. Those strange Weasley wizard chess sets and those transformation biscuits are quite amusing. Pity they're always in such short supply. No one knows who makes them— always stringing everyone along."
The blonde shopkeeper, hair combed to a flawless shine, said with a smile.
"It's more than enough," McGonagall sighed.
She thought of how busy the boy was, still finding time to make those things; she didn't know whether to be prouder or more distressed.
"Oh?"
The shopkeeper seemed to sense something. She recalled that the last time the two of them had come to Diagon Alley, they'd been ushered inside by that little manager, Miss Gert. A vague suspicion began to form.
McGonagall certainly wasn't the one making those products— so who was? Hard to guess…
"A very exceptional child, Professor. You must be proud of him."
The blonde witch's line seemed to hit the exact center of McGonagall's heart; with every extra bundle she wrapped, her smile grew brighter.
…
Gringotts.
Sean walked out looking completely dazed.
Who had filled his vault with that many Galleons?!
He'd only planned to withdraw a little to carry on him, but the moment he saw the hoard inside the vault, the glitter almost blinded him.
Was Weasleys & Green really this profitable?
He didn't have time to dwell on it; he headed straight toward a certain place.
Diagon Alley was packed, everyone chattering about the soon-to-open Weasleys & Green Magic Joke Shop.
Different animals bounded around, the noise was wild.
In front of an empty shopfront, Sean met Professor Quirrell.
"Mr Green…"
Quirrell still looked as timid and cautious as ever.
"Professor Quirrell, have you chosen?"
Sean asked.
"Y-Yes. Y-You wanted someplace discreet, open, and in a location where magic can be used freely… This shop in Diagon Alley seems… suitable.
"Diagon Alley is Britain's largest magical high street, and there happens to be a vacancy here, not too expensive.
"B-But… there's already a joke shop opening on this street. If you plan to sell magical items, we could always choose another location…"
Quirrell spoke carefully, weighing every word.
"No need, Professor."
Sean shook his head.
This was the location Professor Tayla had suggested he open his shop, the place from which the Fairy-Tale Biscuits would be sold.
Strictly speaking, most of what they sold here would be very hard for ordinary wizards to obtain.
Unless Sean's alchemy reached true Master level— where he could toss off Fairy-Tale Biscuits at will.
Over these past weeks, life at Hogwarts had been steady and ordered.
Alchemical masters from all over, the Ministry, and several ancient families who'd caught wind of it had practically turned Britain upside down trying to find the alchemist who'd seized the power of magical beasts.
None of them imagined that the so-called Hermes was still a Hogwarts student.
And even if they did— who exactly was going to break into Hogwarts?
"V-Very well. We can open v-very soon— in the s-second week."
Quirrell didn't ask anything else, just reported the timeline.
Hearing the date, Sean was a bit surprised. He glanced at the shopfront.
Could such a run-down place really be cleaned, rebuilt, and refitted in just a week?
Magic really was too convenient.
"We'll be selling biscuits."
Sean said.
"Those animal-transformation biscuits, I suppose… I see."
Quirrell's eyes flickered. The magical world protected patents— but if the patent holder voluntarily transferred rights…
"Professor?"
Sean had no idea what exactly Quirrell thought he'd understood.
"This."
Sean took out a softly purring cat-kneazle biscuit.
"This is…"
Quirrell stared for a moment, something clearly coming to mind.
He remembered the way the alchemy professor at Hogwarts had, now and again, stood at the high table talking quietly with McGonagall.
"At Hogwarts… the one the International Alchemy Committee calls the greatest alchemical talent in six centuries, the youngest member in the committee's history, the winner of the Ulada International Alchemy Conference Pioneering Contribution Gold Medal…"