Chapter 93: Alchemy
"Brilliant! Sean!"
Two figures darted past the assembled Gryffindors, reaching Sean before Madam Hooch could even react. Sean still had the Quaffle clutched in his hand; Madam Hooch hadn't even had a chance to present him with the flying permit yet.
"Oh—Sean! Something to drink? Honey-lemon tea? Pumpkin juice? Hot chocolate?" Justin appeared beside him, somehow juggling three steaming mugs. Sean still had no idea how he conjured refreshments on demand, but strongly suspected a house-elf accomplice lurking nearby via Disillusionment Charm.
"Quick, dry off," Hermione urged, pressing a towel into his hand, her brow furrowed with concern at the sweat plastering his hair to his forehead.
"Thanks," Sean said, taking the towel just as Madam Hooch approached, beaming.
"Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw?" she mused, tucking the official permit, stamped with a bright red seal, into Sean's hand. "Enjoy your flying time, Green. But… be careful."
Sean nodded.
Justin and Hermione immediately crowded around, peering at the parchment. "Merlin's beard! Is that the flying permit? The one nobody's managed to get in seven years?" Justin looked ready to bury his face in the document, completely forgetting the "interrogation" he and Hermione had apparently planned. Sean watched him reverently lift the permit, then took a sip of the hot chocolate Justin offered. The warmth spread through him, chasing away the chill, the sweetness making him close his eyes in pleasure. Delicious…
"Wicked—" Justin breathed, having read every word. Hermione rolled her eyes beside him. "Sean hasn't even seen it yet."
"Huh?!"
While Madam Hooch regarded the trio with amusement, the Gryffindor Quidditch team nearby looked less pleased.
"A flying permit, Fred. Remember? Even Wood didn't get one in his first year," George murmured.
"Of course, I remember. Heard he sulked about it for a month," Fred replied with mock sympathy.
"Shut it, you two!" Wood roared, looking ready to spontaneously combust.
Harry watched Sean for a long moment. Before coming to Hogwarts, everyone had told him he was a hero. While he tried not to let it go to his head, it was hard not to feel a little… dizzy with the attention. But lately, the buzz seemed increasingly focused on Sean Green – the quiet Ravenclaw who was, by all accounts, a true magical prodigy, acknowledged even by the professors. He moved through Hogwarts like a ghost, rarely seen outside of classes or the library, not participating in parties or games. Harry only ever heard snippets about him from Flitwick or McGonagall's conversations overheard in the Great Hall:
"Mr. Green? Yes, Minerva, he's already mastered non-verbal casting."
Non-verbal casting? Harry vaguely recalled that was sixth-year material. Yet, it was impossible to truly resent him. Everyone saw him in class, pale with exhaustion but relentlessly practicing, or in the Great Hall, ice pack strapped to his head, ears steaming from Pepperup Potion, yet still buried in a book. Anyone who did try to give him trouble faced the wrath of students reliant on his "cheap" History of Magic notes: "If you bother Mr. Green and he can't finish the notes, Merlin help you… you'll see!"
In short, he was a hardworking genius, operating on a level that felt almost discouraging to compete with. Even the Slytherins reportedly left him alone; the last one who'd tried to hex him was still serving detention.
"Harry!" Wood's voice snapped him back to the present. "Right – you have an important mission." Wood had assigned several "important missions" already, so Harry expected more tactical drills. He was wrong. "Go find out if—if Green has joined the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. If he has, we'll need to adjust our strategy…" Wood frowned, his voice heavy. "Of course, you're still the core of our plan, Harry. Teamwork will win us the Cup!"
The request was so unexpected that Harry just nodded numbly before his brain caught up. What?!
Sean smoothed out the flying permit. It seemed to possess a faint enchantment. Following Madam Hooch's instructions, he pressed it briefly against his Nimbus 2000. He felt a subtle connection form between himself and the broom, stronger than before – likely a Bonding Charm, but something more complex too. Hogwarts, he reflected, truly is, in its own way, the 'safest' place.
Changing Room.
Sean quickly changed out of his practice gear. As he turned to leave, he found his exit blocked.
"You could feel the charms on the permit?" a red-haired figure asked, popping out from behind a row of lockers.
Sean nodded slowly. Another voice spoke from behind him.
"Then you'll truly appreciate the mysteries of Alchemy!" Another red-haired figure materialized, boxing him in.
"It's the best subject at Hogwarts."
"—Shame you can't take it until sixth year."
"Unless you went to Beauxbatons—"
"They teach proper Alchemy even to the youngsters there!"
"Nicolas Flamel himself was a Beauxbatons alumnus—"
"I'm sure you've heard of him."
"But you definitely don't know the whole story."
The two figures spoke in perfect, unnerving unison: "After all, he lived for over six hundred years!"
Sean recognized Fred and George Weasley instantly. Their rapid-fire banter sparked a genuine interest in the subject he hadn't felt before.
"So… Weasley seniors," Sean asked, "how does one get started in Alchemy?"
"First," Fred said, dropping his own broomstick, which hovered obediently in mid-air, "you tell us exactly what you sensed from the broom."
"We've never met anyone else who could do that," George added, raising an eyebrow. "Alchemy doesn't tolerate mediocrity."
Sean thought for a moment, then retrieved a specific notebook from his bag. Ever since his first flight, he had been meticulously recording his perceptions of the broom's magic. The night before the test, he had practically disassembled the Nimbus 2000 in his mind. Though he didn't understand the underlying principles, he knew how it worked, well enough to sketch a rough diagram of its internal charm structure, annotated with descriptions of observed effects and hypothesized charm combinations.
He handed the notebook over. Fred's initial casual interest sharpened into focused intensity. He glanced from the notes to Sean, then back again. "George, you have got to see this—"
"You're an Alchemy genius!" George declared loudly after reading a few lines.
"Just like us!" Fred added proudly.
(End of Chapter)
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