Chapter 146: Scarpin's Revelaspell
"Let's just say it's important!"
Michael stared at Sean in disbelief. "Sean, promise me, one window-counting Ravenclaw is enough…"
Sean's eyes lit up, an idea sparking. "Terry, may I ask…"
"Yes! Yes! He's practiced Scarpin's Revelaspell to the point of non-verbal mastery just so he can study the different materials in the windows—can you believe it? Apparently, even the rain isn't always made of the same stuff!" Michael answered, exasperated.
"Sometimes the rain is different!" Terry insisted.
"Right, right, whatever you say," Michael soothed.
Sean smiled faintly. It seemed he had found a solution.
The Great Hall.
November hadn't even arrived, yet Hogwarts was already besieged by wind and sleet. The warm fires and thick stone walls of the castle offered a welcome sanctuary.
As Sean discussed Scarpin's Revelaspell with Terry, he discovered the eccentric Ravenclaw was actually quite shy and humble. His research into oddities wasn't just talk; the castle windows did vary in composition. Terry even asserted:
"Oh—Sean, don't laugh, but I want to say… the castle is alive!"
He glanced nervously at Sean. Usually, this was the point where other wizards either suppressed giggles or looked at him with utter confusion.
"I believe you," Sean nodded.
"I'm not joking… Wait, you believe me?!" Terry gasped.
"Why wouldn't I?" Sean's sincerity was evident.
"Oh—you believe! Merlin! Then you must have noticed that the arrangement of tables in the halls changes according to a pattern, it's not static! Other rooms and areas seem to shift regularly too, like the size and shape of rooms changing…"
In his excitement, Terry rattled off a stream of observations.
Sean nodded thoughtfully. The Potions classroom did seem to undergo subtle changes; spending so much time in the dungeon made him sensitive to it. If the castle was sentient—it had, after all, reportedly barred Umbridge from the Headmaster's office—then constant, subtle shifts were entirely plausible.
Terry's rare burst of enthusiasm continued as Sean listened intently. After a while, Terry blushed, realizing he'd been monologuing about his own interests. With the time remaining, he meticulously explained his technique for Scarpin's Revelaspell to Sean.
Sean learned much from Terry's incantation and gestures, successfully performing an 'Apprentice' level cast before leaving the Great Hall.
Nearby, Justin was overwhelmed. On one side, Sean was engrossed in a conversation about the castle with a Ravenclaw, drawing Justin closer—he was curious about Hogwarts too. On the other, Harry and Ron were showing off their progress to Seamus.
Harry demonstrated a Levitation Charm powerful enough to lift fruit and an Aguamenti that actually produced water. Ron was slightly behind, but recent encouragement and a house point from Professor Flitwick had filled him with confidence.
"So, what's your spell progress level? You don't know? Ah—that's unfortunate," Ron said, puffing out his chest. Though he only had a pathetic 'Apprentice' Levitation Charm and a 'Novice' Wand-Lighting Charm, he felt superior to the other first-years. He'd never imagined Charms could be so straightforward, nor that one could track progress so precisely. He'd always assumed it was all vague: vague teaching, confusing exams, and eventually scraping a passing grade…
When Seamus asked curiously what "progress level" meant, Ron put on a mysterious air and spouted a lot of nonsense. First-years loved to show off.
Although the secret of the Room of Hope hadn't leaked, Sean felt the gazes around him growing more intense. As he was leaving the Great Hall, Seamus approached, blushing furiously. despite his fear, he stammered out a question, clearly prompted by someone else:
"Great Sean, can you make me smart? Oh—I don't ask for much, just so my wand doesn't explode."
Hearing this absurdity, Sean sighed. He felt surrounded by Weasleys. To the resident demolitions expert, he said gently:
"Everyone has their own area of expertise, Mr. Finnigan. Perhaps you just haven't found the right application for yours yet."
Room of Hope.
A glass cabinet, transfigured by Sean, now sat on his desk, housing the dozens of materials Professor Terra had provided.
[You have practiced Scarpin's Revelaspell once to the Apprentice standard. Proficiency +1]
[You have practiced Scarpin's Revelaspell once to the Apprentice standard. Proficiency +1]
[You have practiced Scarpin's Revelaspell once to the Apprentice standard. Proficiency +1]
...
With persistent practice, Sean quickly unlocked the spell. He left the Room of Hope and waved his wand. A piece of parchment transformed into an owl and flew towards Professor Terra's office. The professor might not receive it immediately, but Sean's owl would wait for days. He used Transfiguration because Professor Terra had encouraged him to communicate via various transfigured forms, especially "whimsical" ones.
The Dungeon.
Unlike the warm fires and thick walls of the Great Hall, only the cauldron provided heat in the winter dungeon.
Severus Snape sat frozen in the cold draft, a black silhouette against the stone. His finger rested on a piece of parchment on the wooden table, its corners curling in the steam from the cauldron.
He was the first to know this knowledge, and the only one.
His gaze pierced through the dancing flames, focusing on nothing real, but staring vacantly into some cold depth of memory.
After a long while, bubbles rose and burst in the cauldron, like thoughts suddenly surfacing and quickly swallowed. He remained motionless, as if all the chill of November had settled in his dark eyes.
Beside the parchment lay a register. Next to a certain name, a few words were written: [Guardian: None].
The chatter seemed to echo in his ears again. He told himself: Just an idiot unable to accept that fool anymore!
His fingertip traced a path to a strange place in distant London, just as a quiet knock sounded on the dungeon door.
(End of Chapter)
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