Lupin stared at the parchment as the names Moony, Padfoot, Prongs and Wormtail shimmered on the surface.
A strange, wry expression flashed across his face, then was quickly swallowed by something deeper and far more complicated.
He had gone through too much in a single day. At times he felt that these young wizards had entered his life like some bewildering, miraculous accident.
Green Bookshop… perhaps being its manager for the rest of his life wouldn't be such a bad thing.
"Interesting map. What does it do?"
Lupin asked with a small smile.
Now it was Sean's turn to look a bit odd. He understood why the man would ask—but hearing that question from Mr. Moony himself was still… a lot.
"Mm. It helps us find secret passages. It also shows the names and locations of everyone in Hogwarts…"
As the boy explained, Lupin listened, nodding and chuckling softly.
At last, Sean tucked the parchment away, his figure gradually fading from sight.
Lupin looked outside. Through the snow, another figure was coming into focus.
"Mr. Lupin."
It was Justin.
"Mr. Finch-Fletchley."
Lupin was slightly surprised.
The returning blond boy's robes were dusted in snowflakes.
"Sean is the cleverest of us. He trusts you… he's always been the kind to trust easily."
Justin's tone remained gentle, but his gaze was steady.
"But I hope you understand—trust is a choice, a kind of courage… and a resource that doesn't grow back."
With that, Justin turned and left.
He didn't know much about werewolves—almost everything he knew had come from frantic cramming that very day.
But he understood clearly just how easy it would be for a creature as pitiful and dangerous as a werewolf to slip into darkness.
Perhaps only Sean would, for no reason at all, believe that this man called Lupin was a bright moon rising over the night.
…
At the Three Broomsticks.
Sean waited quietly for Justin. Justin had said he was going to buy sweets, but he'd not gone anywhere near Honeydukes.
On the greasy table sat two tankards of butterbeer, foam spilling over the rims. One of the things students loved most about the Three Broomsticks was that they could buy butterbeer here at all—even if it tasted more like history than drinkable water.
A legacy of Britain's famously awful water.
The pub was lively even now. Sean curled up in a corner, doing his best to become the sort of presence people's eyes slid past.
He had a good reason. His dear Professor Flitwick was snoring loudly in a dark nook nearby.
Sean finished his butterbeer in silence. Warmth spread through his limbs, and his thoughts turned to Lupin—
Peter Pettigrew was still hiding by Ron's side, and Sirius Black, who had locked himself away for twelve long years, was still wasting away like a dead tree…
Sean quietly refined his plans. They were getting clearer and clearer.
But before all that, maybe he could persuade Mr. Lupin to teach him a few spells—like the Patronus Charm.
After a while, the bell over the door jingled. Justin came in, cheeks flushed red from the cold. He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped when he saw Sean give a small shake of his head.
Justin swept a glance over the room and his eyes went wide.
…Professor Flitwick?
They were sitting there, breaking school rules right under their professor's nose…
The two of them slipped away in a hurry. Before they left, Sean quietly Transfigured a thick blanket and draped it over the tiny man.
Once they were gone, the drunken Flitwick blinked awake, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Whoever founded Green Bookshop was going to be very, very hard to pin down.
…
Hogwarts Castle seemed to have fallen wholly asleep.
Only one window still glowed with lamplight.
Minerva McGonagall, wrapped in snow and wind, stepped inside. As she crossed the line where the firelight reached, the white, burr-like clumps of snow in her hair melted away.
Ever since the Chamber incident, she'd fully realized that a certain young wizard was not half as obedient as he looked. Once he decided to do something, the rules he'd so dutifully followed simply ceased to exist.
It was maddening… and left her strangely helpless.
Maybe Marcus was right—this child was like her… in her youth.
On her desk lay a registration form for Animagi.
McGonagall slid the form into the drawer. Her brows tightened and eased, tightened and eased, before she finally let out a long sigh.
This all had been dragging on since the summer…
Late November.
The grounds outside were still blanketed in deep snow. Beads of condensation clung to the greenhouse windows. When Sean attended Herbology, he couldn't see a thing through the fogged glass.
Ravenclaw's timetable wasn't too bad that day—one Herbology, one Transfiguration, and another Herbology lesson.
Gryffindor's was brutal: two back-to-back Potions and one Defence Against the Dark Arts.
Harry and Ron spent the whole day half-dead. After Potions, they looked as pale and worn as Lupin had when Sean first saw him, faces drained and sickly.
"Is this really going to work, Harry?"
Ron dragged his feet along the fourth floor, forcing himself to stay upright.
"That's the problem, Ron. At this rate, we'll keel over before Lockhart does."
Harry had lost thirty points in one day. He'd never even heard of anyone managing to lose that much just from attending class.
The points they'd earned by facing Riddle in the Chamber had been wiped out in a blink.
The two of them stumbled along the corridor and finally collapsed in front of a black cat statue.
"Help me, please, Mr. Black Cat… Snape's gone mad with point deductions…"
Harry begged, wearing the most devout look he could muster.
"Yeah—five points for leaving a stir rod in the cauldron, another five for not pre-warming a glass…"
Ron shuddered at the memory. His head still felt like it was spinning.
"You see? That's the secret to meeting the Castle's Black Cat in your dreams!"
Hannah was telling a ring of younger students excitedly.
Harry and Ron's dramatic arrival and heartfelt prayers had stunned the onlookers. It didn't take long before Ginny, watching Harry's profile, quietly joined the line.
When Sean passed by with a stack of Potions, all he saw was a circle of students kneeling around the statue like they were worshipping it in some strange ritual.
He walked away rather quickly. Even the quiet joy of finally reaching proficient in Soul Transfiguration dimmed a little.
The Castle Black Cat Club was now the biggest club in Hogwarts.
There used to be a limit on club membership, but every time Dumbledore saw an expansion request from them, he signed it with hardly a thought. He'd practically fanned the flames of the students' enthusiasm himself.
If that didn't prove the importance of the Castle Black Cat, what would?
Sean simply felt he understood a bit more of Dumbledore's fondness for stirring the pot. He turned down a side corridor, and only then did his Plan Map float into view.
The map's lines vanished all at once, replaced by a fog-filled silhouette chart. Harry's section was marked with a bright red exclamation mark.
Sean knew then that the plan was moving steadily forward—and that tonight was the night he would finally confront Voldemort's… fragile soul.