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The Great Hall buzzed with conversation that refused to die down. Hermione kept leaning toward Sean, her voice low and urgent as she laid out Sirius Black's twisted plan.
"If he knows Harry's here, he'll come. No question about it. He's after Harry—poor kid, someone's always trying to kill him."
She chewed her lip, eyes flicking between the shredded portrait and Harry's worried face.
"It'll be fine, Hermione," Sean said quietly.
Her anxious expression hardened into something determined.
"We have to find him, Sean—" she whispered. "Get Justin. Just like we did before. We'll root out every last one of Voldemort's followers at Hogwarts—"
"No need to call me," Justin said, slipping out from behind a nearby portrait.
"You promised you wouldn't use those secret passages," Hermione scolded, though she kept her voice down.
"Emergencies call for exceptions, my dear Miss Granger." Justin gave a small, gentlemanly bow, grinning.
"Come on—" Hermione didn't argue. She glanced quickly at the staff table to make sure no one had spotted Justin, then relaxed.
"This…" She turned back to Sean, who looked mildly curious. "You know how many times the club has mapped the castle? We never found the lucky charm we were after, but we did manage to locate almost every secret passage in the place."
Justin finished the thought and handed Sean a folded map.
Sean glanced at it. The biggest club at Hogwarts had been busy. He spotted a passage not far away that led straight to the fifth floor—right where Sir Cadogan had taken his tumble.
"He won't make a scene," Hermione said. "We just need to track him down. What do you think, Sean?"
Sean's mind went to Sir Cadogan. He'd made a bet with the knight so the Fat Lady wouldn't be startled by Black's visit—something about the knight not drinking thirty bottles of beer in front of her tonight. Looked like the knight had won. Sean owed him a compliment.
"Got a plan?" Justin asked Hermione while Sean stayed quiet.
"Obviously. After tonight we track down that portrait. He chased Black for ages—he has to know something. I bet whatever knocked him over was some nasty spell…"
"I agree," Justin said.
"So, Sean, what do you—" Hermione looked around. "Sean?"
"Oh, I don't know," Justin said, surprised, but his eyes stayed fixed on the portrait that had just slid shut.
The passage inside was pitch black. Sean flicked his finger and a soft light glowed at his fingertip.
Sir Cadogan's fall—was it really some terrible magic?
Sean doubted it. The knight had probably just gotten drunk. Still, he needed to check on him and make sure Black hadn't been spotted. If the Animagus form had been seen, Dumbledore would have him in custody fast. Getting out of Azkaban a second time would be nearly impossible.
"Sir?" Sean called, stepping into the passage.
He found the knight sprawled on the ground, face covered in dirt, snoring loudly. Violet was trying to help him up but couldn't budge the armored figure.
"Little Green?!" Violet cried, delighted.
Sean nodded to the lady in the long dress, then tapped the frame. The grimy knight floated upright. Magic worked on portraits too—you just needed the right touch. Luckily, Sean had learned from one of the most knowledgeable historical figures around.
"Sir?" he called again.
"You cowardly cur—I'll duel you for three days and three nights!" Sir Cadogan roared, armor clanking.
"Sir?" Sean tried once more.
"Little Green? Is that you? Did you see him? That scoundrel—he slipped right past…" The knight turned to Violet, still half-dazed.
Both Sean and Violet figured he was drunk. But the knight's rambling told Sean what he needed: Black hadn't been exposed yet.
Still, Sean knew Black would be back. The man lived for watching Harry's Quidditch matches. He was Harry's godfather, after all.
They needed to move faster. The trip to Hogsmeade had just become even more important. With luck, Sean would pick up those ancient goblin contracts at Gringotts.
When he returned, Dumbledore was already ordering every Gryffindor back into the Great Hall. Ten minutes later the Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and Slytherins filed in too, all looking confused.
"I and the other teachers will conduct a full search of the castle," Dumbledore told them. McGonagall and Flitwick sealed every door.
"For your own safety, you'll be spending the night here. Prefects, guard the entrances. I'm placing the Head Boy and Head Girl in charge. Report anything unusual to me at once."
He turned to Percy, who looked pompous and important.
"Send a ghost with the message if needed."
Dumbledore paused, about to leave, then added, "Oh, and you'll need these."
With a casual wave of his wand the long tables flew to the walls and stacked themselves neatly. Another wave and hundreds of soft purple sleeping bags appeared on the floor.
He gave the students a kind look, his eyes lingering on Sean's bright green ones.
Sean watched the Headmaster's movements carefully. Master-level Transfiguration let him see exactly what was happening: the tables had been turned from objects into self-moving magic, and the sleeping bags had been transfigured from items that had just vanished from the tabletops. Creating hundreds in a single instant was far beyond Master level.
"Sleep well. And our dear assistant, Mr. Green—come with me, please."
Dumbledore led a slightly dazed Sean out and closed the door behind them.
Inside, the Hall erupted with chatter as the Gryffindors filled everyone else in on what had happened.
"Everyone into your sleeping bags!" Percy shouted. "No more talking! Lights out in ten minutes!"
"Come on," Ron told Harry, Hermione, Justin, and Neville. They grabbed five bags and dragged them into a corner.
"Why'd they call Sean out?" Hermione whispered, worried. "Dumbledore thinks Black's still here. That's dangerous."
"Dangerous?" Ron gave a low chuckle—until Hermione's wand jabbed him.
"Ow—you lot really think Sean's the one in danger?" Ron rubbed his side, suddenly serious. "I'd say Sean's a hell of a lot more dangerous than Black. You ever seen anyone take down a basilisk with a sword? That was ages ago!"
Harry blinked, then remembered something Hagrid had once told him.
"Ask Green, Harry? Blimey, I'd trust that kid with the whole Forbidden Forest. The creatures behave like puppies around him… Just wish he wouldn't go shouting those earth-shaking spells in there… You ever seen a wizard with more talent? He's gonna surpass Dumbledore one day, mark my words. Never seen anyone his age cast like a professor…"
Hagrid's casual comments finally clicked. Harry stared at the closing doors and the small shadow still visible in the doorway. It suddenly carried a weight that left him speechless.
"Hagrid said…" Harry's throat felt tight. "Sean's magic is already at professor level."
The others stared at him, stunned into silence. The vague impression they'd always had of Sean suddenly sharpened into something real.
Outside in the corridor, Sean spoke quietly. "Headmaster Dumbledore."
"My dear assistant Green, professors are different from students, aren't they?" Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled with amusement.
"Maybe," Sean answered.
"Maybe we should start by finding Sir Cadogan. Though I suspect more than one portrait in this castle knows something."
Dumbledore smiled.
Sean stayed silent. Dumbledore studied him with interest.
"Come along, my dear assistant. Looks like we'll have to ask the knight ourselves…"
Dumbledore didn't get much out of Sir Cadogan. Halfway through the search Snape intercepted them.
"Headmaster?" Snape's voice was icy. "We've swept the entire fourth floor. He's not there. Filch checked the dungeons—nothing."
"Astronomy Tower? Professor Trelawney's room? Owlery?"
"All searched."
"Good, Severus. I didn't expect Black to linger."
"Have you considered how he got in, Headmaster?"
"Many theories, Severus, none of them hold water."
"Remember our conversation before term started?"
Snape's lips barely moved.
"I remember, Severus." Dumbledore's tone carried a quiet warning.
"Black breaking into the castle without inside help seems… impossible. I voiced my concerns when you chose—"
"I do not believe anyone in this castle would help Black enter," Dumbledore said firmly.
"I—" Snape's face stayed cold.
"What do you think, Assistant Green?" Dumbledore suddenly asked, eyes narrowing.
Thin mist had risen over Hogwarts. Students heading back to the Hall widened their eyes.
Sean looked from Dumbledore's smiling face to Snape's dark scowl, then chose silence.
"Ah, our most far-sighted wizard has chosen silence, Severus. That tells me things aren't as bad as they seem." Dumbledore stroked his long white beard, clearly ending the discussion.
Snape stared at Sean a moment longer, then said nothing.
"I must speak with the Dementors," Dumbledore continued. "I told them we'd notify them once the search was finished."
"They wanted to help, didn't they, Dumbledore?" Snape sneered.
"Yes," Dumbledore replied coldly, "but as long as I am Headmaster, no Dementor will cross the threshold of this castle."
Dumbledore strode off down the corridor, moving quickly and silently. Snape stood watching his back, his expression a complicated mix of cold resentment.
"Go back, Green," Snape said, turning.
Once Sean was inside the Hall, Snape left too.
Back among the sleeping bags, Sean could still hear students debating the same questions.
"How did he get in?"
"Maybe he can Apparate," a Ravenclaw suggested. "Just pop in out of nowhere."
"Or he disguised himself," a Hufflepuff fifth-year offered.
"Maybe he flew," Dean Thomas said.
"Everyone into your sleeping bags and no more talking!" Percy snapped. "Oh—not you, Mr. Green. You're fine."
The candles winked out. Only the silver ghosts drifted about, casting faint light while they spoke seriously with the prefects.
The enchanted ceiling showed the night sky, stars glittering overhead. Lying there with the low murmur of voices around him, Sean felt like he was sleeping under the open sky.
He could see the faint mist rising, though the other students seemed unaware of it.
His thoughts drifted—to Professor Trelawney's words about his Inner Eye opening, to the trace Rita had given him of a certain witch.
If the Inner Eye was truly about to open, Sean suspected it would happen tonight.
After all, he was about to look up at the stars from the border between life and death.