Chapter 309: A Little, A Little.
"Oh, yes, yes, yes! I remember it; I remember it perfectly..."
Ollivander's pale eyes blazed with fevered excitement as his weathered fingers traced the contours of Sean's wand. He caressed the polished wood like a lover meeting after a long separation, each touch deliberate and reverent. The sight made Sean's skin crawl with uncomfortable familiarity.
"I remember clearly now. This is the very first wand my father ever crafted..."
'Last time you claimed it was his final creation,' Sean thought with barely contained exasperation. Four years later and suddenly it's become his debut piece? You were definitely spinning tales back then!
"The materials it employs are deeply commemorative. Perhaps not the finest available, but certainly the most suitable for its purpose..."
What complete rubbish!
Ollivander continued his theatrical examination, eventually borrowing Sean's wand to demonstrate its capabilities. A cascade of silver sparks erupted from the tip, dancing through the air like fallen stars before fading into memory.
"Excellent. Your wand maintains perfect health and harmony."
"Thank you, Mr Ollivander."
"No gratitude necessary, young man. I'm deeply honoured to witness the final wand my father completed before his passing."
And we're back to it being the last one again! Sean's internal voice practically shouted. The man's story changes more often than the weather!
With wand inspection concluded, the three champions departed in sequence. When Sean arrived outside the Potions classroom, muffled voices still echoed through the heavy wooden door. Rather than interrupt the ongoing lesson, he made his way directly to Snape's private office.
Yesterday evening, after returning from his session with Antonius, Sean had found the office empty. He'd waited patiently for nearly an hour before accepting that his professor wouldn't return that night. Today, he intended to complete their postponed meeting.
The familiar scent of preserved specimens and brewing ingredients filled the underground chamber as Sean settled into a chair. Before long, the distant sound of footsteps and relieved student voices drifted through the corridors. Potions class had finally ended.
The office door swung open with its characteristic creak as Snape entered, black robes billowing behind him like storm clouds. He showed no surprise at finding Sean waiting, his expression as unreadable as ancient parchment.
"Dumbledore summoned me unexpectedly last night, preventing our meeting." Snape moved to his desk with fluid precision, retrieving a carefully prepared scroll. "Since you're here now, take this potion formulary. Study it thoroughly, then brew according to the upcoming challenges."
Sean accepted the document, feeling its weight in his hands. The parchment bore Snape's meticulous handwriting, each formula precisely detailed.
"These represent the most suitable preparations I've compiled for various scenarios you might encounter. After mastering the techniques, brew the necessary potions before supervisors prior to the first task. However, tournament regulations limit champions to carrying twelve potions maximum. Choose wisely."
"Thank you, Professor." Sean's mind immediately began calculating possibilities. "But I need to understand the first task's general nature before making final selections. Until then, I can have supervisors observe me brewing every formula on this list. The carrying limit is twelve, but there's no restriction on total production under supervision."
Snape regarded his student with something approaching approval. He'd nearly forgotten Sean's inhuman stamina and troll-like endurance. Brewing dozens of potions would pose no significant challenge.
"There's a second matter." Snape's voice dropped to its characteristic silky whisper. "I'll attempt to discover the first task's content as quickly as possible. As a professor, they'll find it difficult to maintain complete secrecy from me. Once I understand the general parameters, I'll notify you immediately and provide preparation time."
His obsidian eyes fixed on Sean with laser intensity. "However, there's a crucial prerequisite. You must maintain absolute secrecy from that Beauxbatons girl. She's no longer your friend but your opponent. I hope you comprehend this reality. You're facing the Triwizard Tournament, where a single careless mistake isn't merely about victory or defeat. It concerns your very survival. Don't sabotage yourself through misplaced loyalty."
The gravity in Snape's expression left no room for misinterpretation. Sean nodded with complete seriousness. "I understand perfectly, Professor. You needn't worry."
November 10th arrived with crisp autumn air and the promise of revelation.
Sean entered the familiar interview classroom to find Bagman and Crouch already positioned alongside Ministry supervisors. The three headmasters—Dumbledore, Karkaroff, and Maxime—observed from the sidelines like judges at an ancient trial.
The preparation order followed previous precedent. Fleur had essentially completed her work by Sean's arrival, her collection of potions glinting like liquid jewels in their crystal vials. Common preparations dominated her selection: Pepperup Potions, various Healing Draughts, and several specialised brews that Sean couldn't immediately identify by appearance alone.
Following their unspoken agreement, Sean and Fleur maintained professional distance regarding tournament matters. Neither would share intelligence or strategies, ensuring both competitive fairness and the preservation of their friendship beyond this contest.
Krum's turn revealed his limitations in potion brewing. The famous Quidditch player laboured extensively to complete a mere five preparations, though his satisfied expression suggested personal triumph over the challenging craft.
Finally, Sean's moment arrived.
He methodically withdrew extensive supplies from his legitimate Undetectable Extension Bag—a prize from Castelobruxo—along with ten separate cauldrons of varying sizes. Under the stunned gaze of every observer, Sean began simultaneously brewing five different potion types, some in single batches, others in double or triple quantities.
Only then did the assembled dignitaries truly comprehend what they were witnessing. This wasn't merely a fourth-year student attempting to prove himself. Before them stood a genuine Potions master, holder of the prestigious Golden Cauldron Award, demonstrating expertise that rivalled seasoned professionals.
Three hours of intensive brewing followed, and that duration was only possible due to Sean's pre-processed ingredients. Without such preparation, the work would have consumed an entire day.
Thirty-two distinct potion varieties, totalling over sixty individual preparations, underwent rigorous supervisor inspection. After confirming perfect quality and composition, magical seals adorned each bottle's mouth and cork, preventing any possibility of substitution or tampering.
The supervisors prepared to conclude their lengthy session with closing remarks, already mentally transitioning toward well-deserved rest.
Sean, having carefully packed his impressive potion collection, suddenly produced vast quantities of alchemical materials from his seemingly bottomless bag. Under every observer's bewildered stare, he began inscribing an intricate transmutation circle directly onto the classroom floor.
"Wait, wait! Bulstrode, what exactly are you doing?"
Sean paused in his precise geometric work, looking up at the confused supervisor with mild surprise. "I'm sorry, does the Triwizard Tournament prohibit alchemical items crafted by the champions themselves?"
"Of course not. Alchemy represents a fundamental magical discipline, but what are you attempting to..."
"I intend to create alchemical constructs."
"You also practise alchemy?"
Sean's expression remained modestly understated, though his eyes held depths of knowledge that belied his youth. "A little, a little."
"Well then, please continue."
With official permission granted, Sean returned to his circle's completion. The assembled crowd watched in fascination as he raised his wand with practised authority. Brilliant flames immediately erupted from the geometric pattern, transforming the classroom into an alchemical forge that would have impressed even the legendary Nicolas Flamel himself.
The true scope of Sean's abilities was only beginning to unfold, and those present realised they were witnessing something far beyond ordinary student preparation. This was mastery in action, power wielded with precision and purpose that spoke of training under the greatest minds in magical arts.