Lynn stepped out of the Room of Requirement with the weirdest expression on his face.
October's monthly prop had just dropped, and honestly? It blew his mind.
In the three years he'd been getting these random Doraemon gadgets, the absolute most high-tech one so far was the Adaptation Lamp (thirty minutes of "I could cannonball into lava and feel nothing" was pretty broken, even if it was short). Magic could kinda-sorta replicate that stuff, but it was complicated and took forever.
Most of the other props (Bamboo Copter, Owner Stickers, Anywhere Tent) had decent wizarding knockoffs anyway.
But this one? This was pure fantasy-made-real, straight out of the "that should not physically be possible" category. And it was basically brand-new; only the second 99% mint-condition item he'd ever gotten. Way stronger than the Bamboo Copter.
The common room was almost empty; Percy must have herded everyone to bed. Only the die-hard studiers were left, and after the Halloween troll fiasco, even those were scarce.
Lynn pushed open the first-year boys' dorm door, and the shouting match inside screeched to a halt.
"What were you lot yelling about?" he asked cheerfully; he was in a fantastic mood.
"Arguing, actually," Dean said, flopping face-first onto his bed like a dramatic starfish.
"Troll stuff?" Lynn guessed.
"Started that way," Seamus muttered, still red in the face. "Then Ron admitted he hasn't done Snape's potion essay that's due tomorrow, and he wouldn't leave me alone about copying mine."
"Let me guess; differences between fluxweed, knotgrass, and poison monkshood?" Lynn asked.
Ron went pink. "It's not that hard; just flip through a book!"
"Yeah, four or five different books," Lynn said, raising an eyebrow. "You could knock it out in the library tomorrow morning and still have time for lunch. It's really not bad."
"But that would require Ronald Weasley to stop being lazy for five minutes," Seamus huffed.
"I forgot, all right?" Ron grumbled. "And you're just copying the books anyway!"
"Then go copy the books yourself. I already let you copy my Transfiguration homework; that's plenty."
The temperature in the room shot up again; round two looked imminent.
Lynn decided this was his moment. He'd been meaning to make up for the whole Every-Flavour-Bean-gone-wrong incident anyway.
"Ron had only himself to blame for biting into the bogey one, but still.
"Ron, mate, this isn't a great habit," Lynn said calmly. "We all slack off sometimes, but letting other people do your work for you… it's not doing you any favors."
Ron scowled but didn't argue. Neville, sweet Neville, piped up softly, "I forget homework all the time too. Last week I only remembered the Charms essay when Seamus asked me about it in the Great Hall. Finished it over breakfast."
Ron shot him a grateful look. The tension dropped a few degrees.
Lynn dragged a chair over and sat. "Look, nobody's perfect. We've all got stuff we need to fix. The trick is actually fixing it."
Neville looked hopeful. "Do you… have a way to help? Because I'm always losing things. If you hadn't given me those stickers I'd probably have lost half my textbooks by now."
"I do," Lynn said, trying not to grin like a maniac. "But it's not a permanent cure. Think of it as a really strong potion with an expiration date. It'll fix the problem instantly, but when it starts wearing off you have to keep it up with your own willpower, or the habit creeps back."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the scroll with a dramatic flourish.
Doraemon theme chime: DING DING DING-DING♪
"Behold; the Anytime Graduation Certificate!"
Four blank faces stared at the rolled-up parchment.
Dean blinked. "…So we just… graduate Hogwarts right now?"
"No, no," Lynn laughed. "This makes a bad habit graduate from you. You write whatever you want gone in the blank, carry the certificate with you, and boom; that habit can't touch you anymore. Laziness, forgetfulness, clumsiness; whatever."
He unrolled it. Fancy squiggly writing slid out:
[Graduation Certificate: This certifies that ________ has graduated from ________.]
Seamus squinted. "Is that ancient runes?"
"Japanese. Totally different."
Lynn explained the rules:
- Write the habit you want to ditch.
- Keep the certificate on you at all times.
- Effect lasts one month, then slowly fades.
- During the fade period, you muscle through with your own grit and make the change permanent.
- If you secretly don't want to change, or you destroy the certificate early, it stops working instantly.
- One use per person. Ever.
Four sets of eyes went huge.
Ron recovered first. "So I could write 'procrastination on homework' and actually get stuff done for a whole month?"
"Pretty much."
Neville whispered, "Could I write 'forgetting things'…?"
"Go for it."
Seamus looked suspiciously excited. "And it really works?"
"Tested and approved by a certain blue robotic cat. 100% success rate; as long as you don't half-arse the follow-through."
Dean was already reaching. "Dibs on being first."
Lynn held the scroll out of reach, smirking. "Line forms behind Ron; he's the one with the Snape essay due tomorrow."
Ron went pink again, but this time it was an embarrassed, hopeful sort of pink.
"Thanks, Lynn," he mumbled.
"Don't thank me yet. Thank me in a month when you're turning stuff in early and Snape's forced to give you an A."
The four boys crowded around like it was Christmas morning, and Lynn handed over the quill.
One by one, bad habits were about to graduate.