Sean's lips quietly curled into a faint smile, and then he vanished into the crowd.
Over the course of the afternoon, they had two classes.
The last one was in the greenhouses. After class, Professor Sprout enthusiastically praised his Mandrake Restorative, calling it the best students had made in years.
She even kindly gave him some honeydew toffee.
That left Sean smiling all the way out of the greenhouse.
As he left, he passed a number of red-faced young witches.
He could more or less guess what was coming, so on the way back to the Hope Nook, he never lifted his Disillusionment Charm.
When he slipped inside, Harry's face was still so red it looked ready to bleed.
Ron wasn't much better.
Apparently, Lockhart had written songs for all the little wizards involved in destroying the diary.
After Harry got sung at, the next victim was Ron, who'd rushed over in a panic.
Sean thought for a moment, quietly ate a panther-cat biscuit, and his pupils narrowed instantly, taking on a deep, glossy Sean.
"So humiliating…" he heard Ron wail.
"Thank goodness for Ron…"
No need to guess—that was Harry.
"What are you doing, Sean?"
Who was that?
Sean blinked. The biscuit's effect faded quickly. When he turned his head, Justin was looking at him with mild confusion.
"A soul-transfiguration technique," Sean explained slowly.
"Advanced Transfiguration involving self-transformation?" Justin mused, and didn't press further.
…
Valentine's Day brought a lot of funny incidents.
Even though Sean kept to himself, he still couldn't avoid running into some of them.
For example, most of the older students paired off and headed to Hogsmeade.
They snuck out of the castle separately, met at the gates—only to get caught red-handed by Snape.
Or: Whitey perched on Sean's shoulder all day, chasing off any owl that tried to come near.
Or: Harry and Malfoy got into an argument, and Malfoy snapped at a girl who was trying to give Harry a card:
"I don't think Potter likes your Valentine's gift!"
All in all—if you ignored the overenthusiastic girls—it was a solid, productive day, same as usual.
Because that day, Sean finally managed to transfigure panther-cat eyes on his own.
That hadn't been easy. It had taken him a full week.
Next came grinding up the panther-cat biscuit proficiency, and adapting to the panther-cat's Legilimency.
He hadn't let up on the first—he was already at:
[Panther-Cat Biscuit: Beginner (600/900)]
The second, though, required nonstop practice.
To hide the change in his pupils, Sean even crafted a separate set of invisible refractive lenses.
Maybe Professor Terra was right: a true master alchemist really could change the wizarding world.
Sean had some sense of that—but when it came to making life easier, he felt it deeply.
His lenses, his talking brooch, and his Wizard's Book were all perfect examples.
That night was cold and crisp.
A pale, semi-transparent moon hung high above the Forbidden Forest.
Sean walked along the edge of the forest, where he could occasionally spot older students scattering in terror after being startled by Snape.
Whenever they panicked, Sean found their thoughts easier to read.
Of course, even at their easiest, with Sean's current ability he could only catch shallow surface thoughts.
Most of them came bundled with fear.
Sometimes: "Why is Professor Snape here?!"
Sometimes: "I'm never meeting in the Slytherin common room again just for the thrill!"
Sometimes even: "So scary… wait, what should I eat in the kitchens tonight?"
Sean chose spots where he could meet their eyes, while noting the subtle shifts in what he could sense.
He always found patterns—until—
"Sean Green!"
The voice exploded in his head like thunder.
His mind went dull. He didn't even clearly see Snape's dark face as the professor strode up.
"Has no one told you that invading someone else's mind is extremely dangerous?!" Snape said coldly.
"I didn't know, Professor," Sean replied. He hadn't expected to run into Snape—and no, no one had told him.
Snape formed a sneer and was about to continue—then froze.
"Where did you learn Legilimency?!" he demanded.
"I haven't learned Legilimency, Professor," Sean answered honestly.
"Heh—"
Snape almost laughed in disbelief. After a moment, he studied Sean again, shock buried under that dark stare.
"Idiot… your… another Animagus?"
Sean nodded.
"Your partial Animagus transformation has reached that level?" Snape fell silent for a moment, his expression heavy and complicated in the moonlight.
"I just completed it, Professor," Sean nodded again.
"Legilimency is an art. A dangerous, rigorous art. And in case your foolish brain can't grasp that—starting tomorrow, your detention time increases."
Snape gave a cold snort and walked away.
After he left, another group of witches and wizards came past—returning from Hogsmeade.
Scottish witches and wizards were always bold and passionate during festivals.
In other words, they often lived in a half-drunken haze.
Not only did that show in all the gatherings and parties—they also weren't exactly stellar at magic.
Sean, meanwhile, never attended gatherings, never went to parties—no one could ever manage to invite him.
And just like now, amid the noisy crowd, he slowly faded from view.
…
In the Hope Nook, the giant pumpkin Hagrid had given them had been carved by Justin into a little "bookshop."
Around it were countless pumpkin cups, their pumpkin juice warmed gently in the oven.
Once again, only three young wizards remained there:
Hermione, Justin, and Sean.
Hermione was brewing Veritaserum day and night. Justin was training his dueling skills.
And Sean—busy as ever—listened to the system's notifications chime again and again:
[You practiced making a Panther-Cat Biscuit to a beginner standard. Proficiency +3]
[You practiced making a Panther-Cat Biscuit to an adept standard. Proficiency +10]
Only right before curfew did Sean finally let out a small breath.
While refining the earlier panther-cat biscuit, he'd also spent these days producing an "adept-standard" panther-cat biscuit for training.
Which meant his proficiency gains would accelerate even more.