The absolute top priority was staying at Hogwarts over the summer.
Just think about it—Hogwarts Castle has so many books that a wizard couldn't read even a fraction of them in a lifetime.
Once the little wizards board the Hogwarts Express and head home, the professors are basically free all day, every day, ready for one-on-one tutoring whenever you need it.
The very idea made Sean's blood race.
Like before, applying to stay required three recommendation letters and some kind of standout contribution.
Sean figured he'd already checked both boxes.
Next up: the grand opening of Weasleys' & Green's Wizard Wheezes.
The shop was set to launch the second week of summer, packed to the rafters with products ready for wizards to snap up.
Every wizard in Britain had heard of this skyrocketing joke shop. Tons of their items were already bestsellers.
If the name doesn't ring a bell, no worries—they only recently went public with it. Before that, wizards just called it "Shop 93." But you've definitely heard of the products:
The wizarding world's top entertainment—Weird Wizards Chess, the Magical Menagerie Party Biscuit series, Anti-Curse Helmets, Skiving Snackboxes…
Any one of those could carry a shop on its own. Now they're all under one roof.
Lately, British wizards' excitement has nearly bowled over Manager Gett. She's complained to Sean more than once that she needs extra staff.
Sean had no intention of missing the Weasleys' & Green's grand opening, and he wasn't about to turn down Mrs. Weasley's invitation either.
Truth be told, he was dying to see the Burrow—a house built entirely by magic.
No alchemist could resist checking that out.
Finally, he'd spend two weeks at the McGonagall villa.
Sean laid out his summer study schedule without breaking a sweat: research alchemy at the Burrow, practice Transfiguration at the McGonagall villa, then wrap up back at good old Hogwarts, where he felt right at home.
But first, he had to track down Professor Snape.
The dungeon was its usual dark, damp self. Professor Snape gave Sean a frosty glance.
"Weasleys… bunch of idiots…"
He didn't finish the sentence. Instead, he fixed Sean with a sinister stare.
"If I say… no…"
Sean nodded—he got the message.
Looked like he'd be grinding out the final 10,000 proficiency points in Transfiguration right here at Hogwarts.
"Not… no…"
Snape muttered darkly.
Time flew by.
The final Quidditch match arrived.
In the chilly Gryffindor changing room beside the slowly brightening pitch, Oliver Wood paced in front of his six teammates, his voice low and fierce with determination.
"Winning the Quidditch Cup—this is our best shot. We have to ask ourselves: is this the only chance we'll ever get in our lives?"
He strode back and forth, hammering the point home.
"We're only 140 points behind Ravenclaw and a measly 100 behind Slytherin. Win the Cup, and we take the House Cup too!
Gryffindor hasn't won in five years… There'll never be another chance this good."
Wood swallowed hard, like the memories still choked him up.
"But we all know we're the best—the absolute best—team in the school!
Let's do this, lads and lasses!"
The Gryffindors marched out burning with resolve.
On the other side…
"Fight them to the finish, everyone!"
Roger, acting captain, fired up his team.
"Ravenclaw's lead is untouchable. We'll end Slytherin's streak and crush Gryffindor's dreams!
With skills honed to perfection and tactics written in blood, sweat, and tears!
We've prepped ten thousand counters—and ten thousand ways to win!
We are—hands down—the greatest Ravenclaw team in history!"
The Ravenclaws stormed out, unstoppable.
Cheers and chants filled the air.
Members of the Hope Cottage club were stuck in an awkward spot—who were they supposed to root for?
On the pitch, Harry's nerves hit peak levels. His palms were slick with sweat when a familiar paper airplane fluttered over:
[Give it everything—that's the ultimate respect]
Sean gave him a quick nod from across the field.
The stands were packed. Lee Jordan's commentary crackled with excitement:
"Ravenclaw and Gryffindor take the pitch! Both these rebuilt squads are stacked—here we go!
Harry Potter—he's right on the Snitch's tail—oh no, Sean Green's caught up! It's neck-and-neck. In just three minutes, both Seekers have shown they could end this game in a flash—good heavens—"
Half the crowd stared in disbelief; the other half roared.
Harry Potter finished half a body-length behind Sean Green and missed the Snitch. Gryffindor lost.
"Well done—"
Professor McGonagall beamed, standing to clap.
"Professor—what are you saying?"
Lee Jordan's eyes bugged out as he double-checked the scoreboard. Hadn't they lost?
McGonagall froze for a second, her feelings a tangled mess.
"Heh heh—"
Snape, meanwhile, clapped with elegant poise, deliberately loud enough to make Professor McGonagall whip her head around.
Snape quietly stopped clapping.
Still, he suddenly thought letting Green play in a Quidditch match like this wasn't half bad.
The blockbuster showdown ended amid stunned stares.
Pretty much everyone replayed that heart-pounding moment in their heads.
In the festive mood, the Leaving Feast rolled around.
Before the feast, a mysterious group—the Castle Spirit Cat Club—went absolutely berserk, turning Hogwarts upside down. Between the end of exams and the start of holiday, they poured every ounce of energy into the hunt.
Somebody came up with the genius idea of night-time prowling, and the caretaker's office saw four or five little wizards lined up for detention at a time.
Mr. Filch was livid. Those rotten kids—he'd already cut them so much slack, and they still kept pushing!
Their antics seemed to tick off the messenger of the night; the black cat that symbolized good luck hasn't shown up since.
The frustrated Minister claimed they started searching too late; the Vice-Minister insisted it was the exact opposite.
Lately, the Weasleys were practically Sean's shadow. They'd pop up from everywhere around him.
Sometimes from a flowerpot, dirt in their hair; sometimes from behind a window on broomsticks; they even tapped on Sean's Ravenclaw tower window.