On the third day of the Easter holiday, everyone was cheerfully talking about what they'd gotten in Hogsmeade.
"Hey, did you get into that shop? There were so many people, I almost couldn't squeeze in."
"Of course. If only I had that many Galleons. Thirty-seven Galleons—I swear to Merlin, I actually don't think that's expensive!"
"I already wrote home about it. I bet I'll be getting that amazing thing very soon…"
Three older students walked past Sean, talking loudly enough for everyone around them to hear.
But no one paid it any mind, because almost everyone was talking about the same thing.
At the Gryffindor table, the students who usually obsessed over Chocolate Frog cards weren't even discussing their latest finds anymore.
At the Ravenclaw table, the witches and wizards who liked spending time in Green Bookshop couldn't stop thinking about those incredible magic mirrors.
At the Hufflepuff table, even the little badgers felt Honeydukes' sweets didn't smell quite as tempting anymore.
If someone were willing to give them a magic mirror, they'd gladly trade a whole roast chicken scavenged in the middle of the night.
Only at the Slytherin table was there a small cluster gathered around someone, with bursts of noisy exclamations coming from the middle.
"Malfoy, are these really…"
a short Slytherin asked curiously.
In the center of the crowd, Malfoy had his chin tipped high.
"Pretty good, aren't they?" he said pleasantly. "Though I suppose some people might be able to scrape together a bit of gold to buy one too.
For example, the Weasley family. I imagine they could sell off those broken old mirrors of theirs—some museum might pay for them."
A group of Slytherins burst into rough laughter.
"Hey!"
Ron shot to his feet immediately.
Harry was sitting on his left, and just then, for no obvious reason, something from a book flashed through his mind.
In the Auror Handbook Sean had given him, it said that during missions, Aurors were always in an emergency state, and in such circumstances, they had the right to deal with pointless provocation or obstruction on the spot.
Strange…
Harry thought about it, but he liked the feeling.
No one had ever told him before what counted as the right thing to do and what counted as wrong. He'd always had to figure it out for himself.
Now, though, he could measure himself by Auror standards.
If possible, he would become an Auror.
The thought made his breathing quicken.
"Harry…"
Ron tugged at his arm, glancing several times at the book on Harry's table.
Ever since that Quidditch match, Harry had suddenly started liking books. Weird.
Meanwhile, the mockery at the Slytherin table continued:
"If you ask me, Weasley ought to be—"
Malfoy had been speaking grandly, but abruptly stopped.
A black-haired wizard carrying a book was passing by their table.
Sean glanced once at the Slytherin table, then let his gaze settle on the stained-glass windows. It was that hour just before the day fully brightened.
He ignored the suddenly silent Slytherins and headed for the spiral staircase.
"Malfoy…"
someone said weakly.
Malfoy shot the speaker a vicious glare. Only after the black-haired boy had gone did he resume the topic.
Ron, however, clearly had no intention of letting him continue. He marched straight over.
Harry followed right behind him—and behind Harry, the Weasley twins sprang out of nowhere.
"Here, take this—"
Fred cried in a weird voice, pulling out something shaped like a mirror. It had a soft horn attached to it and was entirely white.
"Dear little Ronnie."
George immediately followed that up by rubbing a fist over Ron's head.
Ron, still confused, looked down to find Fred and George placing a mirror in his hands.
"The museum paid us something."
Fred waggled his eyebrows at the Slytherins, especially at their Quidditch captain, Marcus.
"A very generous payment… Right then, we've still got to bring one to Ginny too. Seven-way mirror, remember—
Oh, and Harry, this one's yours. Don't forget to give the other one to the great Mr. Green."
George shoved two mirrors into Harry's hands, and then the twins vanished like a gust of wind.
"Why is mine the unicorn version?!"
Ron shouted.
"Hey! It's pretty!"
Parvati Patil from Gryffindor shot back.
"I know, but—but… this isn't for boys!"
Ron's face went red as a fire crab.
"This one," Harry said, fascinated, "is the Golden Snitch version from Witch Weekly."
He held the magic hand mirror up in the air, and it vibrated its two transparent wings, then hovered along behind him.
"This is unfair—"
Ron immediately protested.
He no longer had any interest in watching Malfoy's face cycle through red and green.
At the same time, ripples spread across Sean's mirror again.
Over the past two days, everyone's enthusiasm for calling each other had only gotten stronger. Most of the time, the magic hand mirrors were active, and Sean was already used to it.
He would normally have enjoyed listening.
But right now—
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Someone knocked on the Headmaster's office door.
"An unusual visitor. But I'm always welcoming," Dumbledore's voice said, as wise and kindly as ever.
"Headmaster Dumbledore."
When Sean entered, he saw Dumbledore signing a large stack of documents with a quill.
Fawkes, the Headmaster's phoenix, was perched on the golden stand by the door. He was as big as a swan, and his scarlet-and-gold feathers gleamed brilliantly.
He flicked his long tail feathers and blinked at Sean.
"Sit down," Dumbledore said, setting the quill down with obvious relief and smiling at him. "My ears have been telling me they're rather eager to hear some ideas from a young mind…
Have you had any new thoughts about that stone—or about our future? Any thoughts at all?"
"The Resurrection Stone has been placed under a very powerful curse by Voldemort," Sean said. "A magical being has to wear it and let the curse activate. Otherwise, the Resurrection Stone can't be used."
"Oh, I can quite imagine that would be the case."
Dumbledore's eyes remained half-narrowed.
"I think…"
Sean flicked a glance toward Fawkes. The phoenix unceremoniously planted his claws on Sean's shoulder.
"Of course that would work, and I'm glad," Dumbledore said warmly, "I'm very glad you didn't think of some other scheme…
The day of rebirth isn't far off. Dear Mr. Fawkes will be more than happy to help us."
Dumbledore stroked the phoenix's head, and Fawkes affectionately tapped his wrist with his beak.
Inside, Sean settled.
He knew Fawkes could even swallow the Killing Curse—and the Killing Curse was one of the most powerful curses in existence.
Because of that, Sean had long suspected that Fawkes might also be able to swallow this curse.
Now it looked like his guess had been right.
~~~
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