"Mr. Marcus McGonagall—"
The attendant let out another low cry.
"You know my name? Did you work in the Auror Office?"
Marcus lifted his chin, suddenly looking full of life.
"No, no, no—"
The attendant shook his head quickly.
Now it was Marcus's turn to look puzzled.
"Please come with me to the VIP room, honored Mr. McGonagall."
The attendant was visibly excited. He respectfully escorted Marcus and Sean into a quiet room.
It seemed to be under some kind of silencing charm—the noise outside was muted all at once.
"Sir, what exactly is this about?"
Marcus had always been the sort to ask directly.
"Ah, honored Mr. McGonagall, you're a friend of Mr. Hermes.
Please understand, Fairytale Shop is permanently open to you and Professor Minerva McGonagall free of charge."
The attendant looked surprised by Marcus's confusion, as if this should have been obvious.
"A friend?"
Marcus frowned. He had no idea when he'd ever met such a great alchemy master.
It had to be one of Minerva's colleagues, surely.
At that moment, Sean tugged at his sleeve.
"We'll be leaving soon, my dear little Green."
Marcus answered as if humoring a child.
"Please forgive me, Mr. McGonagall. Here—your magic hand mirror…"
The attendant quickly placed a slim version of the magic hand mirror into Marcus's hands.
"Would you be interested in a multi-face model? We have three-face, four-face, all the way up to seven-face versions, all personally crafted by Mr. Hermes.
You don't need to worry about stock. You have the highest priority."
"Multi-face means? Sir, please explain quickly. My young gentleman has been waiting here too long."
Marcus's interest flared up again at once.
"Of course—multi-face mirrors support face-to-face communication among multiple people at once. They're among Fairytale Shop's rarest products. There are fewer than thirty in total, and the top-tier seven-face mirror exists in only three copies."
The attendant ran through the explanation quickly.
"I see, I see—oh—I need to ask Minerva—"
Marcus seemed to think of something and suddenly looked troubled.
Without knowing who this mysterious alchemist really was, he didn't dare spend recklessly here.
He had always understood one thing: free gifts were often the most expensive of all.
"Grandpa Marcus, here."
A special mirror appeared at his side. When he lowered his head, Minerva McGonagall's gentle face appeared on its surface.
"My dear Minerva—"
Marcus said in surprise.
A moment later he realized what he was looking at, widened his eyes at the mirror, then at Sean.
"Do you know an alchemy master named Hermes?"
In the end, he swallowed his other questions and asked Professor McGonagall instead.
"Marcus, your eyesight really is failing…"
Minerva shook her head, the corner of her mouth lifting helplessly.
"Ask Mr. Green."
The VIP room was completely silent. The attendant, who had clearly been listening in, tactfully withdrew the moment he heard that. Now only Sean and Marcus remained.
"This is our shop, Grandpa Marcus."
Without all the noise around them, Sean could finally make the overexcited Marcus hear what he was saying.
At that moment, Sean found himself thinking again about whether the magical world had any kind of voice-amplifying magic.
"This?"
Marcus's brows twisted into a question mark.
"When did dear Minerva become an alchemy master…"
he muttered.
"It's not Professor McGonagall."
Sean said.
That left Marcus completely at a loss. He racked his brain, trying to think of which of his less accomplished children could possibly bear such a title. In the end, his blank stare slowly landed on Sean.
Sean nodded.
"The thrice-great Hermes?"
Marcus asked, mouth open, voice rising.
"That's just rumor."
Sean shook his head.
"The future greatest wizard?"
Marcus's smile shot upward, pure delight on his face.
"The magical world has always loved exaggeration and grand claims, Grandpa Marcus."
Sean shook his head so hard he looked like a wind-up fan.
"By Green's beard—"
Marcus finally burst out joyfully.
A few seconds later, Sean realized he was rising into the air. The cabinets beyond the glass seemed to be sinking lower and lower.
Marcus had picked him up.
Three seconds later, a black cat slipped down from the air and landed, turning back into a little wizard.
"What beard?"
Sean asked in confusion.
"Heaven's gift to the McGonagall family—Green's beard—"
Marcus was still floating in happiness.
This time Sean heard him clearly.
He couldn't help touching his own chin—there was no beard there, though his Animagus form did have one.
Hard to say whether that really counted.
…
This was the happiest day Marcus had had in decades.
He looked over the bustling Fairytale Shop, magic hand mirror in one hand, the little wizard's hand in the other, and let himself sink into the joy flooding through him.
The bright blue sky looked polished. The leaves, newly come through the end of winter, seemed glazed over with color.
The whole world suddenly looked brighter.
Happiness moved inside him like a furry little cat.
Was he the happiest wizard under this blue sky?
Yes. Of course he was.
At a moment like this, it was hard to feel troubled by anything—not even Voldemort could spoil his joy.
War would certainly destroy many things, but there was one kind of wizard who would never be deeply shaken by it.
Yes—those at the very top. The true masters. And among them, the most important were potion masters and alchemy masters.
Rulers rose and fell, reshaping the magical world according to what mattered to them.
But the truly exceptional wizards still managed to live well.
His thinking could be backed up by facts: Nicolas Flamel in Grindelwald's era, Professor McGonagall teaching at Hogwarts even under Voldemort's rule—restricted, pressured to submit, but still there.
And looking now at all the witches and wizards scrambling to buy magic hand mirrors, Marcus couldn't stop humming a happy tune.
"Minerva's child… my dear child… the McGonagall family's child…"
He muttered it over and over as they walked, sometimes laughing to himself midway through.
Sean watched Marcus with some concern, quietly using the magic hand mirror to observe the old wizard's irrepressible, spring-bright smile.
When it came time to part at the fireplace, the old wizard didn't even blink. He was already thinking about how to tell Naï this wonderful news, and consoled himself as he did:
"It's only a simple goodbye. Spring's already here—how far away can summer vacation really be?
Waiting is such a painful thing, but it has to be endured…"
Sean opened his mouth, but didn't know what to say.
Then he heard Marcus again:
"You can do it, Marcus—"
And the green flames swallowed Sean's figure.
By the time the familiar castle came back into view, Sean had already figured out how to solve the curse on the Resurrection Stone.
~~~
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