This was a special Christmas gathering.
Because not long after, Professor Snape appeared from the fireplace as well, his face like ice.
He shot the room a disgusted glance—warm as it was, fully stocked with tools—and still snapped his cloak sharply before sinking into a chair with that same gloomy air.
There was a Christmas tree inside. The star at the top glowed with a soft golden warmth.
Snow fell in fine, dense sheets. Under Professor McGonagall's instructions, Sean was bundled up until he looked like a fluffy little ball—
thick sweater and padded coat,
scarf and tiny gloves.
Beside him lay something like a diary. Headmistress Isolt seemed to have left it on purpose.
It recorded bits of Ilvermorny's past. A Quick-Quotes Quill scratched busily across the page, and before long the blunt-speaking brooch read the text aloud:
"Isolt's early childhood was peaceful and happy. She was loved by her parents, and the family would quietly help their Muggle neighbors as well, using magic to treat both people and livestock.
Isolt Sayre's mother, Rionach Sayre, was born into the Gaunt family—a pure-blood line and descendants of Salazar Slytherin, one of Hogwarts' founders. However, Rionach did not share the blood-purity beliefs held by most of her family, and instead chose to be kind to Muggles.
Isolt's father, William Sayre, was a direct descendant of the famous Irish witch Morrigan. Morrigan was an Animagus who could transform into a crow.
So William gave his daughter the nickname 'Morrigan,' because from a young age she had a special closeness with all things in nature…"
That broadcast-like voice blended into the crisp crunch of Whitey's footsteps in the snow, and Professor McGonagall's conversation.
"So where were you sorted?" she asked.
"Horned Serpent, Professor."
"I see… Olivia told me that at Ilvermorny, there are cases where all four House statues choose the same student…"
"Yes, Professor. I chose Horned Serpent."
"Very good…"
At the table, Sean answered her.
It was oddly rare, really—despite living and working so closely with the professors, he almost never got to share a meal with them at the same table.
The Christmas tree was decorated with all sorts of little trinkets—from shiny holly berries to a yowling cat ornament.
Even the flowerpots had been enchanted: the moment the fireplace flared, they started singing Christmas carols. Listening to a flowerpot belt out "O come, all ye faithful" was ridiculous enough—
especially since the pots only knew half the lyrics.
More than once, Snape had yanked a garden gnome out of a large flowerpot with a cold face, because whenever the pot ran out of words, the gnome would "improvise" the rest—crudely, loudly, and offensively.
At moments like that, McGonagall and Sean would simply watch in silence while Snape hurled the gnome across the room.
The gnome would cast Sean a pitiful look, then—under Snape's icy threats—shuffle off, sniffling.
This Christmas, the snow was lovely… and so were the wizards.
Snow tapped at a wizard's window, and wizards climbed out of fireplaces.
…
Once daylight came, it meant Sean had to get busy again.
He needed to learn how to make an Undetectable Extension storage bag, and he needed to find a Wampus—maybe Headmistress Isolt could help with that.
On top of that, he was intensely curious about what Isolt had said—"a ghost's ultimate death"… though who knew where she'd drifted off to.
Mapping a ghost's wandering route was harder than predicting how many points Snape would dock from Harry on any given day.
More importantly, Sean still had classes to attend—
Yes, Ilvermorny held lessons even during Christmas, but they were all electives. Students could choose to attend, or they could keep playing around.
And the professors wouldn't teach anything too advanced—more like magical games.
That was in the introduction attached behind the Horned Serpent prefect's lyric sheet, and Sean thought his choice yesterday might have been exactly right.
The prefect really was thoughtful.
"So nice…"
As Sean got out of bed, a drifting, airy voice appeared.
It was Headmistress Isolt.
"No matter when it is, home is the foundation of love," Isolt said with a smile.
Sean's hand paused on his book. How did she read that so cleanly?
"I know, child—you're curious about certain things. So why not go sit in on Magical Creatures?
You'll like our returning old professor.
As for a ghost's final death… I think when night falls, the story will feel even more fitting."
Isolt ushered Sean out.
The moment he stepped away, the cottage vanished.
It was a strange kind of vanishing—because Sean knew that when he returned, it would appear again.
Magical Creatures, then?
At Hogwarts, that was an elective for third-years.
But at Ilvermorny, it seemed even younger students could take it.
And the reason, Sean thought, was probably the founders' influence carrying forward.
His notes said:
> "After Isolt became close friends with the Pukwudgie William, William began introducing her to the many magical creatures he knew. They traveled everywhere, adventuring together, facing enemies side by side.
They fought bird-like man-eaters together, observed Horned Serpents hunting, watched newborn Wampus kittens playing in the dawn sunlight. A horned snake lived in a nearby river. Isolt was captivated by it, and it, too, liked Isolt…"
So Sean set off along the snowy path—
and looked forward to… the Hufflepuff alumnus.
A truly old alumnus, at that. By this time, Newt Scamander should've been about ninety.
Thinking that, Sean's quill never stopped—constantly sketching Tayra's rune arrays.
And the steady study brought him good news.
Building a magical ritual always came naturally to him, because:
[Title: Advanced Alchemist]
[Greatly increases sensitivity to alchemical magic, greatly improves alchemical talent, greatly improves a wizard's control over alchemical rituals]
On the alchemy path, he would—as always—move faster.
Three more days, and he should be able to finish a first prototype.
Sean thought.
…
By the time he entered the castle, he'd changed into Ilvermorny robes.
Ilvermorny's uniform was a blue-and-cranberry robe—symbolizing James's (Isolt's husband's) favorite cranberry pie, and Isolt's youthful dream of joining Ravenclaw.
A golden Gordian Knot clasp fastened it at the front.
The clasp existed to commemorate the brutal war they had once fought.
Because it was a brooch Isolt had found in the ruins of Ilvermorny's original cottage—the stone house.
Now that historical relic sat on Sean's robe—
even though the young wizard didn't realize it.
~~~
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