Chapter 40: The Vastness of Magic
Everything about magic was fresh and captivating to Sean, even History of Magic, a subject most students found mind-numbingly dull. He genuinely enjoyed delving into the past, learning about figures like the controversial vampire hunters, understanding why their profession was eventually outlawed by the Ministry's Code of Conduct for Part-Humans, and piecing together the complex tapestry of the wizarding world.
This fascination kept him engrossed until night fell. Lying in his four-poster bed, his thoughts drifted to Gifford Ollerton, the famous giant-slayer who became a local hero after defeating Hengist of Upper Barnton, earning himself a place on a Chocolate Frog card. In the fifteenth century, giants had been far more numerous, making wizards like Ollerton essential for the protection of the wizarding community.
Werewolves, vampires, goblins, imps, trolls… Sean's mind filled with epic visions of wizards, wands in hand, chanting incantations, embarking on grand adventures across the magical landscape.
His breathing slowed and evened. The gentle Hogwarts breeze, like an invisible hand, turned the pages of the History of Magic textbook lying open on his bedside table, revealing a page covered in Sean's neat annotations:
Miranda Goshawk, a witch who attended Hogwarts in the early 20th century, found the school's textbooks inadequate. As the youngest in her family, she was frequently teased by her older sisters. Frustrated that no one took her seriously, the young witch invented the Bat-Bogey Hex. She famously used it on her eldest sister and resolved to write her own series of accurate, easy-to-understand spellbooks.
Beneath it, a note added by Bathilda Bagshot read:
Magic always embraces the conviction of the wizard. It is generous to those who meet its conditions. Any wizard can create such miracles.
Sean's own note, written and rewritten, was now reduced to three forceful words: Magic, Infinite Possibilities.
Sean had often daydreamed about what he would do if granted the miracle of magic. His conclusion was always the same: Right, I'll learn the absolute hell out of it.
Emerging from the library once more, he realized the weekend had slipped away. He carried a heavy stack of books, the moonlight bathing the castle grounds just as beautifully as it had on the night his Hogwarts letter arrived.
He finally understood why Hermione was always laden with books – there was simply so much to learn. An entire weekend had barely been enough time for him to create a rough outline of magical history. The dazzling field of Astronomy remained largely unexplored, glimpsed only through its connections to Divination and fate within the historical texts.
Driven by this connection, he had skimmed through all thirteen required Astronomy books, finally finding a few tantalizing clues in an ancient tome Madam Pince had entrusted to him with solemn warnings.
"Wizards use astronomy to connect the cosmos with the self, finding inspiration for their magic. The deepest magics wizards seek always return, in the end, to the vastness of the universe. Prophecy, fate, time… all eventually dissolve into the glittering river of stars."
Sean's passion burned brightly. He recited the words from the ancient text, his thoughts swirling like embers in a hearth. He pictured the centaurs in the Forbidden Forest, divining the future from the stars; he thought of Sirius Black, languishing in Azkaban, his very name – the Dog Star – reflecting both his Animagus form and his unwavering loyalty.
A nascent theory formed in Sean's mind: the power of magic wasn't confined to flashy spells, simmering cauldrons, or fantastic beasts. It was ancient, predating wizarding history itself. And Astronomy was one of its deepest, most profound branches, intrinsically linked to concepts as fundamental as destiny.
He carefully guarded the old book in his bag. Over the weekend, his life had narrowed to two points: the library and the hidden practice room. He returned to the ancient astronomy text again and again, poring over its cryptic passages. His only frustration was his inability to fully comprehend it. Waiting for the centaur Firenze to eventually teach the subject felt like an eternity. He even briefly considered seeking him out in the forest.
Adding to his frustration, Professor Snape had remained stubbornly sequestered in the dungeons all weekend, preventing any Potion practice.
But the weekend hadn't been without its gains. His Charms proficiency had reached a new level:
[Levitation Charm: Novice (21/900)]
[Wand-Lighting Charm: Novice (19/900)]
[Scouring Charm: Apprentice (297/300)]
Note: Unlocking three Novice-level Charms will grant a Novice-level Title in the field of Charms.
[Charms Talent: Green (Average)]
He checked his watch. Curfew was still a few minutes away. Enough time for one last session. He slipped out of the dormitory and headed for the hidden room.
The moment the owl portrait materialized, it began squawking. "Little wizard! Clever little wizard! Answer my question!"
Sean waited patiently. Although Justin's attempt to move the portrait had failed, the owl now seemed to turn a blind eye to their comings and goings, letting them pass even if they didn't answer correctly.
"From a quiet glen, came wise and beautiful Rowena Ravenclaw. Tell me, where was this glen located?" the snowy owl demanded, tucking the parchment back under its talons and looking supremely confident.
"A glen in the Scottish Highlands," Sean replied calmly after a moment's thought.
"How did you—?" The owl's pince-nez slipped down its beak, and its flapping wings froze. The sky-blue door materialized beside it.
"Thank you," Sean said softly before the portrait faded back into the stone. Lady Ravenclaw had left more than just her diadem. The castle's location, its name, even its moving staircases… her wisdom and vision were woven into the very fabric of Hogwarts. This quirky owl portrait felt like just another piece of her enduring legacy.
"We heard you coming, Sean."
He stepped into the hidden room to find Justin and Hermione waiting, lanterns casting long shadows on the dusty floor. He was surprised to see them still practicing so late, but their expectant expressions told him they were waiting for something else.
"Alright," Sean sighed, knowing what they wanted. "This is a story about the four founders…"
"Brilliant!" Justin exclaimed, dimming his wandlight and settling down cross-legged on the floor. Hermione brightened her own wand, sitting up straight on an old stool, her breathing quieting in anticipation.
"Godric Gryffindor," Sean began, his voice low and steady in the quiet room. "It's believed he was born over a thousand years ago, somewhere in the West Country moorlands. The village that later grew there was named in his honour – Godric's Hollow. As for Lady Hufflepuff, the most accepted account places her origins in the broad valleys of Wales, a region known even then for its expertise in food-related charms. And as for Mr. Slytherin and Lady Ravenclaw…"