While Newt was lost in thought, Professor Taylor sat at the High Table, watching him with a knowing smile.
Sean, having finished his sweet lemon soda, turned and headed out of the castle.
Outside, the snow was a pristine white, almost untouched except for the deep furrows left by Ilvermorny students heading back inside.
"Will—" Sean called out.
"I am here, Master Grindelwald."
Will emerged from behind a statue near the entrance. He shot a lingering, envious look at the stone figure before turning to Sean and bowing deeply.
"Our contract is a professional employment agreement, Will," Sean said after a brief silence.
"Master William says the root of all stupidity is a lack of self-awareness. Will is your butler. Nothing more, just a butler. Please, just give Will your orders," the Pukwudgie replied, his head still lowered.
"Can you take me to the snowy plains up ahead?" Sean asked.
"With the greatest of pleasure!" Will looked up, his face beaming.
---
They Apparated to a distant, snow-covered mountain range. Sean's first task was to expand the interior of the Book of Magic, pushing its limits until it reached about five thousand square feet.
Then, he began "borrowing" segments of the landscape, meticulously moving them into the book.
This step was grueling. Spatial expansion becomes exponentially harder as it grows; the wizard must maintain the stability of the existing space while stretching the boundaries for the new one.
Fortunately, since they had started in the afternoon, Sean still had a few hours of daylight left.
Snow fell steadily, dusting the treetops, the frozen rivers, and the head of a rabbit peeking out from a burrow. By the time the rabbit had finished the carrot in its paws, the young wizard finally reopened his Book of Magic with a look of satisfaction.
The entrance remained the "Genesis Plains"—a lush green meadow dotted with yellow and pink wildflowers, smelling of damp earth.
To the left of the meadow, a stream meandered past a small wooden cabin. The cabin featured bright windows and a chimney puffing out warm steam. A sign hung on the door: The Wizard's Hut.
To the left of the hut, however, things looked very different now.
Sean had first cleared a space as large as the forest outside. Then, he had built a rolling hill surrounded by thickets—he couldn't quite "carry" an entire mountain—covered in deep snow. A few rabbits even poked their heads out of the drifts.
Once the layout was set, Sean quickly used the Severing Charm to isolate the two zones. This ensured that the climates remained independent, allowing his Atmospheric Charms to work effectively in each area.
During the process, Sean was struck by how intuitive magic could be.
With Atmospheric Charms, a wizard doesn't directly "create" a blizzard; instead, if you visualize a heavy storm cloud, the snow begins to fall on its own.
With the Severing Charm, you don't just "cut" space; if you plant a signpost, build a fence, or circle an area with bushes, the magical boundary settles with ease.
As Sean finished the modifications, Will respectfully handed him a cup of black tea. While Sean drank, Ifa curled up at his feet before suddenly darting off to frolic in the newly created snow zone.
> [You have gained the affection of the Wampus Cat (Ifa) at an expert level. Affection +50]
> [Magical Beast: Wampus Cat (Ifa): Close Bond (Beginner) (870/900)]
Ifa's affection for him was rising rapidly, nearing the final threshold. However, crossing that last gap would take time; genuine emotion isn't something that can be measured by a simple meter.
"I shall remain here, Master Grindelwald. Tending to the interior of the Book of Magic is part of my duty now," Will said. He looked at the unmade bed and the lifeless kitchen, and it seemed his butler instincts were fully activated. "Please call for me when needed."
"Thanks for the help, Will," Sean said quietly.
"Master William says that once a contract is signed, a Pukwudgie offers absolute loyalty. Everything for Lord Grindelwald." Will performed a formal salute, hand over his heart.
Sean nodded, beginning to understand the depth of Pukwudgie loyalty, and stepped out of the book's internal space.
---
The snow continued to drift over Ilvermorny, turning the distant mountains into a white blur. Owls occasionally cut through the pale sky. On the castle grounds, students were locked in a spirited snowball fight, enjoying their freedom.
Sean ran into Professor Taylor in the courtyard.
"It's time to head out, my dear student," Professor Taylor said with a twinkle in her eye. "We're taking the... dragon express."
Sean looked up at her, confused. Did she mean... a dragon-drawn carriage? That was a massive violation of the International Statute of Secrecy. Generally speaking, Sean wasn't one for breaking the law unless absolutely necessary.
"Mr. Scamander has a few dragons that need to stretch their wings, and I happen to provide some very reliable concealment wards," Professor Taylor added dismissively, as if high-level cloaking magic that could bypass both the MACUSA and the British Ministry of Magic was as common as garden gnomes.
"I see," Sean nodded. It sounded reckless, but then again, it was. However, with Professor Taylor and Newt Scamander around, there didn't seem to be much to worry about.
"Then, let's go."
Professor Taylor winked and looked toward the distance, where Mr. Scamander was walking toward them, clutching his weathered suitcase.
"Mr. Scamander," Sean greeted.
"Mr. Grindelwald," Newt replied, looking shy and perhaps a bit more dazed than usual.
It was then that Sean heard a loud, rhythmic huffing coming from the Ilvermorny forest. He guessed those were the dragons.
Sure enough, they headed into the dense woods. Once the thick treeline was behind them, Sean saw a hidden clearing.
Two fierce-looking adolescent dragons were held in a paddock made of thick timber. They stood on their hind legs, letting out low rumbles and snorting plumes of fire from their fanged maws. The flames splashed against a shimmering magical barrier. Their necks were arched high, their heads nearly fifty feet off the ground.
Behind them sat a carriage body roughly the size of a small house.
"Henry and Lucky," Newt said softly, his eyes full of a bittersweet joy. "Under my watch, they will stretch their wings for the first and last time to cross the ocean—a 'Fledgling Rite'—before they are released back into the Hebrides."
The adolescent dragons stopped breathing fire as Newt approached, watching him with large, slit-pupiled eyes. While it was said that a dragon could never be truly tamed, Sean felt a profound sense of connection and spirit from Newt's creatures.
"I'm glad you can join them for their flight," Mr. Scamander smiled.
At that exact moment, the dragons unfurled their massive wings.
---