"Mr. Green, excellent work!" Madam Hooch strode toward Sean with her usual athletic grace, hands on her hips. Even when she smiled, there was a sharp edge to it. "You've already mastered plenty of flying techniques, but hovering, turning, and circling are all just the basics. Today, we're going to work on something different—"
A breeze swept across the Quidditch pitch, bending the grass all to one side.
Sean stumbled slightly as he got off his broom, but Madam Hooch's hand shot out to steady him.
"Not bad. Rest for a moment—because next, you'll be facing it."
With a flick of her wand, a wooden frame floated out from the broom shed, filled with golf balls.
Sean watched as Madam Hooch tossed one high into the air. It soared up with astonishing speed, as if enchanted, and even hovered for a moment at its peak.
The tall witch who had been standing beside Madam Hooch had already vanished, leaving Sean alone to quietly pull a potion bottle from his bag and gulp it down. He pretended he hadn't seen a thing.
He placed the empty bottle back in his bag. Professor Snape's potion tasted surprisingly like fruit juice—nothing like the sticky, bitter enhancers described in books.
The same potion recipe Sean followed meticulously would, in Snape's hands, become a Boggart targeted just at him.
Sean would envision a terrifying potion explosion,
And Snape would simply sneer and say, "Riddikulus."
Madam Hooch noticed this scene naturally. She raised an eyebrow, watching the boy a little more closely, as though she'd stumbled upon something curious.
By now, Sean's flying proficiency had reached:
[Flying Skill: Beginner (190/270)]
[Progression: Experienced in Flying — unlock Experienced Title in Flying]
Sean thought, 'Looks like I'll be unlocking a new title in the next few days.'
Above the pitch.
The behavior of the golf balls resembled a weaker version of the Quaffle.
A charm had been cast on them—if not caught, they would slowly drift back down toward the ground, like sinking underwater.
Sean's task was to intercept them in midair.
It was undoubtedly challenging, But not impossibly so.
Wind howled past his ears as his figure sliced through the sky like a hawk.
His speed was already pressing the broom to its absolute limit; several times, the old broom seemed like it might break apart, but Sean remained perfectly calm.
Because it wasn't just the broom that was being pushed to its limits.
"What a surprising talent!"
Madam Hooch watched as the boy caught the golf ball cleanly, his figure gliding down from the brilliant blue sky, wrapped in white clouds.
It took him only three tries to go from fumbling to perfect catches.
"Mr. Green, you're destined to be a Seeker star."
Madam Hooch studied Sean for a long time, her gaze complicated.
'Such a gifted boy… why doesn't he like Quidditch?'
[Nearly seventy percent of early Quidditch fouls involved Seekers, and the dirty tricks were endless. For example: "Setting fire to the opponent's broom tail," "Beating the opponent's broom," and "Attacking with an axe" were just appetizers.]
The content of Quidditch Through the Ages flashed through Sean's mind. If there were a rattle, his head would be making the sound.
"Next week, I'll be administering your flight test,"
Madam Hooch said with her hands on her hips as she prepared to leave.
"First-years are only allowed one chance to apply for the test, so remember to bring a new broom.
As for the Comet 160… it belongs in the broom shed."
She left, and Sean was left behind, confused and a little troubled.
Where was he supposed to find a Nimbus 1500?
In the afternoon classroom, not a single Ravenclaw dared to speak.
Because this period was Transfiguration.
Professor Minerva McGonagall glanced at Sean for the third time, almost involuntarily.
He was fully focused, wand swishing steadily. The rat on his desk kept turning into a snuffbox and back again.
His face grew pale, and he began flipping through Intermediate Transfiguration.
Borrowed from the Hogwarts Library for two Galleons, the only difference from Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration was that the central bead in the golden filigree had changed from red to green.
The book described numerous transfigurations in detail—for example, how to turn a teapot into a tortoise.
The key lay in whether the tortoise's tail would emit steam, or whether its shell retained wicker patterns.
Or turning a slipper into a white rabbit, focusing on whether the rabbit's ears were whole.
These spells all emphasized changing a "lifeless object" into a "living creature."
Professor McGonagall's explanation after class confirmed Sean's theory.
"Beginner Transfiguration allows you to transform inanimate objects into each other.
Intermediate Transfiguration involves transforming between living and nonliving objects.
Advanced Transfiguration, however, involves transformations between two living creatures—for example, turning a tortoise into a rabbit…"
She seemed pleased with Sean's questions. An interest in the essence of magic always helped a wizard go further.
"Mr. Green, remember—more advanced transformations require far more power. Don't attempt them lightly."
She looked at him and handed him a set of notes.
After reading them carefully, Sean instinctively drew his wand and began to practice.
His eyes were fixed on the teapot, visualizing the attributes a tortoise should have, just as the notes instructed.
Transfiguration was a dangerous branch of magic, and practicing under a professor's supervision was naturally safer.
That way, even if Sean accidentally turned himself into a badger, she could fix it immediately.
In fact, in the original history, a young wizard had once accidentally turned his friend into a badger.
Professor McGonagall had said that if the counterspell wasn't cast quickly enough, that poor wizard might have stayed a badger for life.
The fireplace in the office crackled, and outside, the Quidditch pitch was filled with noise. Even in the corridors, students were playing Exploding Snap, and chess pieces could be heard shouting, "Aha!" and "Get out of the way!"
Inside the office, Sean had practiced himself to exhaustion. On the floor, a small dark green tortoise was crawling slowly, occasionally releasing steam from its tail.
The panel chimed repeatedly:
[You practiced an in-depth Intermediate Transfiguration at apprentice level. Proficiency +50]
Sean thought, 'In-depth Intermediate Transfiguration must refer to turning nonliving objects into living creatures.'
A single apprentice-level practice of this kind added 50 proficiency points…
'Nice.'
After restoring the tortoise, Sean looked at Professor McGonagall with anticipation, paying no mind to the bloodless pallor of his face.
"Excellent work, Mr. Green. That's a significant improvement."
Her voice was warm with approval, though her eyes lowered ever so slightly with something more complicated.
Sean didn't notice. He quietly tidied up the office, closed the door softly, and stepped into the hallway.
His panel had changed:
[Transfiguration: Beginner (800/900)]
He mulled over everything he'd learned, the lively chatter of other students fading into the background.
Professor McGonagall stood at the doorway, watching his retreating back for a long while, as though she had done so countless times late at night.
"Minerva, you think highly of that boy, don't you?" A calm, deep voice spoke beside her. A long-bearded old wizard had appeared without her noticing.
"There's no such thing as coincidence in this world, Albus,"
Her eyes softened completely, but within them was also the faintest trace of pride and heartache.
"If that boy is determined to find something, then he surely will."