Chapter 73: The Fireplace
"Mudblood… what does that mean?" Hermione asked quietly, her voice trembling slightly as the three of them hurried down the corridor, their shadows flickering in the torchlight. Outside the tall windows, the sky was painted in shades of lavender and indigo, shrouded in a thin mist. Birdsong echoed brightly, a stark contrast to the tension of the moment.
"I don't know," Justin admitted honestly.
Hermione shot him an exasperated look. "I wasn't asking you. Sean, do you know?"
"It's a highly offensive term the wizarding world uses for Muggle-born witches and wizards," Sean explained flatly.
"How offensive?" Justin pressed.
"There isn't a more offensive one," Sean clarified.
"I see," Justin said, his voice dangerously quiet. He stopped abruptly and turned back the way they came, muttering under his breath, "Maybe attending Eton next year wouldn't be so bad after all. Mother would certainly be proud…"
Sean and Hermione exchanged a look and quickly pulled him back.
"There's no need to go back," Sean said softly. His words, as always, seemed to have a calming effect. Justin stopped struggling, though his expression remained stormy.
"Is it because of Professor Snape?" he asked, his voice dropping instinctively at the mention of the Potions Master.
"Yes." Sean couldn't imagine the Potion Master's reaction to finding three of his Slytherins beaten up, especially knowing Snape's fiercely protective (and often irrational) loyalty to his own house. It was better for everyone if they weren't found at the scene. Compared to the internal discipline Snape would likely administer, any official punishment would be far preferable. Hogwarts had rules, but rules were useless if incidents went unrecorded. By leaving, they allowed Snape to handle it as an internal Slytherin matter.
Rain lashed against the windows of the hidden room, the sky outside now pitch black. Inside, however, it was bright and cozy. Magical lanterns bathed the room in a warm glow, and three mugs of hot milk sat steaming on the small wooden table.
Hermione was quiet, scribbling furiously in a letter, her earlier anger replaced by a subdued sadness. Justin, respecting her need for space, kept his distance, settling down next to Sean instead.
Sean was reviewing his plans: Scholarship deadline is just over a week away. Priority one: get Levitation Charm to Expert level. Then, learn Smokescreen Spell and Knockback Jinx – master the three core defensive spells for first year. That should secure an 'Outstanding' in Defence. The Galleons will cover expenses for several years.
He added another note: Hogwarts isn't always safe. Pure-blood prejudice is real; it fueled both Dark Lords. Need to learn more powerful magic.
When he thought of powerful magic, Transfiguration immediately came to mind. Why not the Dark Arts? The thought flickered – Orphan, interest in Dark Arts, charismatic… No, best not to go down that path.
TRANSFIGURATION. He wrote the word at the top of his plan.
While the Dark Arts were arguably the most destructive branch of magic, Transfiguration, in the hands of a master like Dumbledore, was elegant, profound, and incredibly potent. In the battle at the Ministry, Dumbledore had largely defeated Voldemort using Transfiguration alone, animating the golden statues of the fountain to shield Harry, subdue Bellatrix, and even block Killing Curses. True mastery, Sean believed, meant not just changing objects, but imbuing them with purpose, with a semblance of life, turning the environment itself into a powerful ally. It also perfectly suited his own natural talent.
His Quick-Quotes Quill flew across the page, mapping out his schedule. Every spare moment was allocated to grinding Transfiguration and Charms, even cutting into his time for Potions and Herbology.
"Oh—" A suppressed chuckle broke his concentration. He looked up to see Justin grinning foolishly at a small, folded note. His laughter made Hermione blush furiously and bury her face deeper into her letter.
"Oh, Sean, we have to be careful not to get caught… Here, this is yours." Justin seemed to snap back to reality, glancing cautiously at Hermione before handing Sean a similar note.
Thanks for the help, Sean.
"Definitely don't let her see it," Justin whispered. Before the words were even out, Hermione sniffed, stood up abruptly, and stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
"Caught," Sean deadpanned. "So," he asked, arching an eyebrow, "how exactly do you plan to apologize using that method?"
"Knew I couldn't fool you," Justin sighed, though his confidence quickly returned. "Don't worry. My father taught me a hundred ways to apologize. They always work…" He peeked out the door, ensuring Hermione was truly gone.
"Remember? 'Doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place… doors that weren't really doors at all…'" He walked to a specific spot on the far wall and whispered, "Lardum." (Lard)
A section of the stone shimmered, revealing a hidden doorway shaped like a roaring fireplace. It dissolved, revealing… an actual, roaring fireplace, surrounded by seven plush armchairs. Justin stood before it, beaming proudly.
A room within a room? Sean stared, a vague sense of familiarity flickering at the edge of his memory, like water-damaged ink on old parchment.
"Mr. Owl told me about it," Justin explained, the dark circles under his eyes seeming a little less pronounced. "Of course, a fireplace isn't much use on its own. But what if it's connected to the Floo Network?"
Floo Powder – a common mode of wizarding transport. Users could also just stick their head into the green flames to communicate.
"What could be a better birthday surprise than seeing your family, even from far away?" Justin's eyes shone with excitement. "Unless, of course, your friends are there with you too!"
Sean was silent for a moment, piecing it all together. "You… you've been working on this for a long time, haven't you?"
"Not really," Justin demurred quickly. "Mostly relied on my mother's wizarding friends, and the owl post, you know. I just had to contact Hermione's parents and…" He trailed off.
"You did well, Justin," Sean said, his voice unusually warm, the firelight dancing in his green eyes. "Hermione will be thrilled. You should get some rest now. I'll take it from here."
"…Okay." Justin fell silent, then nodded gratefully. He knew what Sean meant. Contacting people far away, coordinating schedules across distances – it wasn't easy. Someone needed to be here on Thursday to manage the Floo connection, otherwise the surprise could easily turn into an awkward disappointment. And looking at Justin's exhausted state, Sean knew he needed sleep.