"You should write that down…" Snape offered, uncharacteristically talkative.
"Severus. 'Sean Green' is enough. He is no one's appendage—he should not be 'Sean McG.'" Minerva McGonagall spoke with a trace of temper as they walked away from the fifth floor.
"That's fine then. Tomorrow he'll be 'Sean Snape.'" Snape's mouth curled in an icy line.
"Don't even—think about it." McGonagall gave him a flat look, clutching an elegantly wrapped biscuit, and hurried off.
In the corridor.
Sean felt more and more practiced in "self → living" transfiguration. Ever since he began using the transformation biscuits, his understanding of cats—and the conviction needed for the change—had risen sharply.
It made him all the more eager for Animagus lessons over the Christmas weekends—taught by Dumbledore himself.
If all went well, Animagus could be completed in a few months—even just over one.
But he still didn't understand what the Headmaster meant by "luck—a little luck."
Sean reversed his paws back to human hands. He could now impose partial transformations on himself—but only for the cat.
[You practiced an advanced Transfiguration once at an Adept standard. Proficiency +30]
Looking at the meager gain, he wondered how much proficiency full Animagus would give.
In a blink it was time for the Christmas feast.
Every rumour was false—no eight hundred casks of spiced mead, no Weird Sisters' performance—just more, richer food.
Even Sean found it a bit much.
On the way out of the Hall, Harry seemed to have something to say; Sean ignored the small signs and went back to grind the last biscuit's proficiency.
At the same time, he crafted another Mrs. Norris biscuit and hit Adept practice standard in one go.
Snow hissed down outside the Gothic stained glass; the light drizzle turned to soft flakes by night.
The corridor was silent; the only figure there—Sean—could hardly be called a wizard now.
An Adept-tier biscuit gave him ten full minutes of transformation time; and he could deepen his understanding through the act itself. The more he understood, the higher his proficiency climbed; and the higher the proficiency, the more he understood… a closed loop.
Sean had a quiet hunch: though he called it "Mrs. Norris Biscuit," the prefix he wanted was Magical Creature—the full name "Magical Creature: Mrs. Norris Biscuit."
Mrs. Norris has Kneazle blood, but Sean had only made the biscuit from her outward traits; none of the Kneazle's powerful gifts were present.
Kneazles have an uncanny ability: they can sense those of bad character; and if someone loses their way, they can lead them safely home.
That's practically lie detection and auto-navigation; either one would be meaningful.
To get there, Sean's alchemy and Transfiguration would have to rise further.
To what exact level? He guessed at least Expert. And one thing was certain: developing transformation biscuits for magical creatures was the second essential track in his "quality" approach.
Thinking thus, Sean came to the third-floor corridor—suddenly ablaze with bright candles and packed with first-years.
The black cat climbed curiously onto a suit of armour's helm and listened to the whispers.
"The luck statue has been redone—heard it's to celebrate a special change this Christmas," Hannah Abbott whispered to her friends.
"Look, Hannah—doesn't that statue look like the cat on the armour?" Sally-Anne Perks whispered too.
Both looked up at the black cat perched on the armour. It was small, ink-black, its bright green eyes fixed on a statue identical to itself.
Sean froze. He wasn't dead—how was he already on a statue?
An odd impulse to scratch the statue came over him; he mastered it and fled.
"Were my eyes playing tricks, Sally-Anne?" Hannah murmured.
"It means we'll be lucky, Hannah. The lucky black cat was here," Sally-Anne said, excited.
In the corridor's shadow, before Sean could change back, two hands scooped him up.
"Sean?" He looked into a pair of curious, amused light-blue eyes.
He didn't know how Professor McGonagall had recognized him, but he leapt, changing into a small wizard with his head bowed.
"G—good evening, Professor," Sean said.
"Marvelous alchemy—cleverly combined… and you still have self-awareness… Child, it seems you've discovered your Animagus, yes?" McGonagall produced a beautifully wrapped biscuit; her tone stayed even, but she was trembling with excitement.
"Well then—would you like to learn?"
She tried to keep her voice steady, preserve her grace.
"Professor—sorry—Headmaster Dumbledore has asked me to study with him—this Christmas," Sean said.
"Child—you needn't worry about that," McGonagall said with a smile.
She turned—expression blank once more.
She thought of the black-cat statue and Dumbledore's meaningful look; her steps to the Headmaster's office quickened.
…
In the dungeon.
The cauldron's heat pushed back some of the bitter cold.
Snape stared at the stag-shaped biscuit in his hand, flicked his wand, and the dungeon door swung shut by itself.
With a grimace, he ate a piece.
He had just finished when the door swung open.
"Oh, Severus—I've come to avoid a little…" The long-bearded old wizard pushed in; only he could slip through a magically sealed door without a sound.
"What is—"
Moments later, a bellow shook the dungeon:
"I don't recall we're at the point where you can enter without knocking, Dumbledore!"
…
Unaware of how much havoc his biscuits had caused, Sean kept at his final push—just six more proficiency points to unlock a new alchemy title.
[You practiced Rooster Biscuit at a Beginner standard. Proficiency +3]
[You practiced Rooster Biscuit at a Beginner standard. Proficiency +3]
[Title: Alchemy—Advanced]
[Greatly increases sensitivity to alchemical magic; slightly boosts alchemical aptitude]
With his sensitivity raised, Sean felt the tangle of magic within biscuits grow clearer yet.
He couldn't wait to check the next advancement requirement:
[Three Adept mid-tier alchemical constructs and six Beginner alchemical constructs unlock the Alchemy—Adept domain title]
Mid-tier alchemical construct… what does that mean?
~~~
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