read my new story:
Naruto: Uchiha Shiroge Rebellion
read more inpatreon ilham20
Steam began to rise from its entire body, followed by patterns gradually emerging on the shell.
By the time Sean picked it up, it had transformed into a qualified teapot.
Sean examined the teapot carefully, then tapped it once. The teapot began to shift unhurriedly until it completely transformed back into a tortoise.
Having finished all this, Sean silently checked his own mental state. He was somewhat fatigued, but not excessively so.
Wandless casting required far stricter control than using a wand, and the majority of Sean's energy was spent on this aspect.
As soon as he looked up, he met Professor McGonagall's stern face.
"Wandless casting... a dangerous technique... you need more practice."
Professor McGonagall spoke slowly. A few seconds later, her brow unfurrowed.
"But undoubtedly, you achieved full marks. Good work, child."
With the Transfiguration exam concluded, everyone rushed through lunch and immediately returned upstairs for Charms.
"How did it go?"
Hermione asked Sean in the corridor, looking up at him.
"Not bad," Sean said.
"That means full marks, but I'll get full marks too. If everyone gets full marks, and it comes down to future mistakes—I think I'll have a chance to surpass you this time, Sean."
Hermione said, clutching her book, then turned to look at Justin. "And you."
"I suppose so."
Justin simply admitted defeat.
Harry and the others couldn't get a word in, but they didn't mind.
Harry was single-minded about achieving "Outstanding" or "Exceeds Expectations" in Charms, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Potions, so that he would meet the requirements for an Auror listed in History of Magical Careers.
Ron harbored the same vague idea as Harry. He had placed History of Magical Careers at the bottom of his stack of books and left a subtle mark on the page regarding Aurors.
Neville was nervous as always, constantly reviewing his notes.
"I think Professor Flitwick might test a specific spell, the Cheering Charm. You'd best review it beforehand."
Before entering the exam room, Hermione offered advice, racing against the clock.
Harry and the others took this to heart; after all, everyone knew Hermione was Professor Flitwick's second favorite wizard.
Sure enough, Hermione was right. Professor Flitwick indeed tested the Cheering Charm.
Harry was a bit too forceful due to nerves, causing his partner Ron to burst into fits of hysterical laughter. In the end, Ron had to be taken to a quiet room for an hour before he could complete his own spell.
When Sean cast the spell, Justin started laughing before the incantation was even finished, making Sean momentarily doubt if he had already cast it.
After dinner, the students rushed back to the common room, not to rest, but to begin reviewing for Potions and Astronomy.
And so the day ended.
In the evening, Sean was reading by the stained-glass window in Ravenclaw Tower.
He read The Tale of the Three Brothers once more, as the mist slowly rose under the deep blue, tranquil sky.
Far away in Dorset.
Newt had just lulled three noisy Kneazles to sleep. At that moment, he unconsciously recalled those days last Christmas.
Seeing the mist gradually rise, he drifted slowly into sleep with a relaxed smile.
After an unknown amount of time, Newt opened his eyes and slowly turned around. The surrounding scenery seemed to materialize before his eyes.
It was a vast, expansive space—bright, clean—and a dilapidated building stood right before his eyes.
It was an old Victorian residence, with a wooden sign hanging on the door that read "Children's Home."
A black cat—no, a Kneazle—was lying right on top of the sign, looking at him with emerald green eyes.
"Mr. Scamander," the black cat said.
"Respected Bastet," Newt said with a smile.
He occasionally came to this dreamscape. When he saw the black cat before him earnestly studying weather magic and spatial magic, he felt that perhaps the ancient legends were all true.
"What would you like to understand today?" Newt asked.
As he asked this, he also recalled his long-lost creative passion; the manuscript for Dreams and Gods was mostly complete.
Perhaps soon, Bastet would be able to see this book in the dreams of others.
"Today, I seek nothing," the black cat said. It sat on the wooden sign, its fur glowing under the streetlamp, presenting a fantastical sense of holiness.
"That is—Leta, I—when will I be able to see her?"
Newt was slightly distracted.
"I require some memories, Mr. Scamander," the black cat stated softly.
It subtly glanced at its chest. There was not only a stone slab-like alchemical creation but also a profound stone.
The Resurrection Stone.
Its function was to pull back departed souls, but it naturally had limitations.
The user must have a certain impression of the departed soul.
And the black cat couldn't find a single image of Leta in its mind.
"Naturally, naturally, the trade must be fair," Newt said after a moment of distraction.
Dear Bastet possessed the magic to govern dreams, but for a mortal to exchange with it, a price must be paid.
He didn't think some trivial magical knowledge would be enough to make this powerful magical creature cross the boundary between life and death for him.
"I will give you my memories, I voluntarily give them up, I just want to see her—" Newt said incessantly.
"What did you say?"
After Newt agreed, the black cat rummaged through the mist for a few seconds. Then, it threw out a Pensieve with its tail.
The Pensieve landed in Newt's hands. His face flushed slightly. "Can a Pensieve be used in the world behind the veil?"
He muttered to himself.
"This place is my dream."
The black cat raised a paw and elegantly drew a circle, indicating the size of the space.
"Ah—"
Newt smiled. With shock at such powerful magic and heartfelt joy, he began to use the Pensieve.
"I need to go with you."
The black cat jumped over, looking curiously at Newt's silver strands of memory.
Its paws stepped onto Newt's shoulder, and its fur brushed against Newt's face. Newt thought this might be the most marvelous dream he had had this year.
"I need to see her, Mr. Newt," the black cat repeated one last time.
"I understand—"
Newt, as if shy, didn't look directly at the black cat but buried his head into the Pensieve with it.
In the memory, it was a gloomy, rainy day.
A young Newt Scamander sat alone in the dim waiting area, staring blankly with wide eyes.
Moments later, he felt something tugging at his wrist. He looked down to see Pickett the Bowtruckle swinging from a loose thread on his cuff.
The thread broke, and Pickett fell. Newt's button rolled down the corridor into the distance.
Newt and Pickett watched it go, then ran to chase it at the same time.
Newt got there a step ahead. As he bent down to pick up the button, he found a pair of female feet in front of him.