Chapter 156: Owl Biscuits

Outside the Headmaster’s office at Hogwarts, Professor Snape vanished without a trace after obtaining the necessary document.

Meanwhile, in the garbage-strewn streets of Croydon, Minerva McGonagall clutched a yellowed letter, observing once again the Victorian semi-detached house nestled in the impoverished southern suburbs.

The people here acted as if they didn’t see her, letting her stare at the warped floorboards and drafty single-pane windows.

The letter in her hand revealed its words through the tight grip of her knuckles:

【Dear Madam:

When I truly learned this news, I knew that years of hardship were finally behind me. Madam, forgive my outburst—I wept all night.

May you see this, dear Madam. Forgive his foolishness. Be patient. Be even more patient.】

What she did not know was that more than one wizard walked this street.

……

As Christmas drew nearer, Wizard Sean created owl biscuits; the moment they appeared, everyone in Hope House gathered around to watch.

After all, Wizard Sean had produced many strange phenomena while baking—such as the biscuits suddenly turning into owls on their own.

This filled them with extraordinary wonder.

At first, they assumed it was merely some form of Transfiguration—until they overheard the Weasleys discussing a share agreement with Wizard Sean in the corridor, and realized something was off.

Everyone knew—the Weasleys were masters of bizarre inventions.

“Wizard Sean, what is this?”

Jia Jia Siting leaned in curiously.

“Owl biscuits,”

Wizard Sean replied. Seeing Jia Jia Siting’s confusion, he added softly,

“A biscuit that transforms a wizard into an owl.”

“Merlin—”

Jia Jia Siting stared at Wizard Sean. After Wizard Sean gave a slight nod, he picked up the biscuit and examined it thoroughly, still unable to detect any magic within.

Hermione also rushed over and picked up a biscuit to inspect it:

“Alchemy?”

Wizard Sean nodded.

Harry and Ron were already bewildered.

Alchemy?

Isn’t that taught only in sixth year?

“I bet Wizard Sean will become the next Percy—oh no, stronger than Percy by three, five, even ten times!”

Ron declared confidently.

“I…”

Harry sometimes felt that, aside from his fame, he was inferior to his friends in every way… he suddenly felt a faint pang of inferiority.

“Just passed the trial.”

Wizard Sean remembered how eagerly the Weasleys had volunteered to test it. The outcome was fine—except they ended up stuck in a pine tree, and Wizard Sean had to use a snowman to retrieve them.

Ignoring the shock of being grabbed by a giant snowman the moment they woke up, the entire process went smoothly.

“Hmm, be careful. One at a time. After transformation, you’ll briefly lose your reason.”

Wizard Sean guessed this loss of reason matched what was described in *Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them*:

【Later wizards transformed themselves into bats.

This was proven foolish: though they could fly freely,

their bat brains caused them to forget where they intended to go.

Floating aimlessly in the air became common.】

Indeed, the vastness of magic lay in this: when you mastered one mystery, you discovered it had long been recorded by others.

Owl biscuits could only be used safely—but Wizard Sean, guided by a strange intuition, speculated:

A wizard possesses a second self; when the wizard’s “self” aligns with a living creature’s second self, transformation becomes far simpler.

If Professor McGonagall ate an “owl biscuit,” would she retain her reason?

It was merely a simple hypothesis—but solving the problem of losing consciousness was actually straightforward: master the advanced Transfiguration of transforming the “self” into a “living creature.”

Krum was proof: he transformed into a shark’s head yet retained full reason, proving this path was viable.

In Hope House, everyone sat quietly together, waiting for the arrival of this miraculous product.

“Alright, let me try first.”

Jia Jia Siting, seeing the mixture of excitement and concern in their eyes, picked up an owl biscuit himself.

His expression twisted the moment he took the first bite, but he finished it without comment.

“How does it taste?”

Wizard Sean suddenly asked.

“It’s amazing!”

Jia Jia Siting didn’t blink.

“Be honest.”

“It’s disgusting.”

Jia Jia Siting’s face twisted in disgust; he had never eaten anything so vile.

As Jia Jia Siting transformed into an owl and flapped wildly, Wizard Sean encountered a strange problem—his biscuits tasted awful.

In the following days, Hope House saw wave after wave of young wizards grimacing as they swallowed the biscuits, then transforming into owls.

Before seeking Professor Tera, Wizard Sean knew he faced his greatest challenge yet—

None of the books he had studied taught him cooking.

As Wizard Sean searched his books, Jia Jia Siting wandered around beside him;

when Wizard Sean borrowed magical cookbooks from the library, Jia Jia Siting sighed beside him;

as Wizard Sean pored over *A Feast to Appear!*, Jia Jia Siting’s voice blended with the sound of falling snow:

“Mother said, half of a person’s life must be lived among friends…

Wizard Sean, can I help with something…?”

His eyes sparkled with sincerity and generosity.

Hours passed quickly. When the biscuits emerged fresh from the Hogwarts kitchen, Jia Jia Siting’s smile refused to fade.

“Flour, sugar, eggs, baking powder, butter, milk… their proportions are…”

Jia Jia Siting recited the recipe one final time. Wizard Sean recorded every word without omission. At that moment, the owl biscuit was truly complete.

Wizard Sean waved his wand, and all the biscuits floated into Jia Jia Siting’s hands.

“See you tonight.”

He bid Jia Jia Siting farewell and headed toward the Alchemy office with the samples.

The Howler and the owl biscuits were his first trials in Alchemy.

In the corridor, Wizard Sean walked swiftly.

Since receiving the letter from London, he had deliberately kept himself busy—so he wouldn’t have time to dwell on the thrilling, hopeful, anxious, sorrowful thoughts that haunted him.

His mind often returned to the professor’s gentle blue eyes—calm and soft as a clear Black Lake.

Whether in his past life or this one, Professor McGonagall was old enough to be his grandmother.

Yet he still didn’t know how to face any of this.

This winter.

The wind howled past his shoulders, brushing past him, blowing from the past toward the future,

above the wind,

stars glittered, deep and unfathomable.