Chapter 180: Eyes in the Mirror

Marcus McGonagall is Professor McGonagall’s brother, and their entire family welcomed Wizard Sean warmly from the heart.

But the animals on the farm suffered greatly.

Soon Wizard Sean had a private room, located in the very best spot of the entire villa.

Life here was leisurely and comfortable; the farm was especially large, and the Marcus McGonagall family was quite well-off.

Dinners were always absurdly lavish, Marcus McGonagall’s enthusiasm never waned day after day, as if in the blink of an eye, Millicent McGonagall would be left utterly alone.

“Hey! My dear little one! Want to try horseback riding?”

Marcus McGonagall had a naturally outgoing personality; though forty years older than Wizard Sean, he had not a trace of arrogance.

Oh, by the way, he was a wizard, but his grandchildren were not.

When mentioning this, the wizard’s eyes grew unusually deep and complex.

Also, several other middle-aged wizards (Wizard Sean guessed they were in their thirties) had arrived at the villa today; they were wildly excited upon seeing the professor. Yet Wizard Sean did not see Robert McGonagall Jr., the father in the photograph in the living room.

At night.

A warm and bright room.

Wizard Sean waved his wand, and a shelled fire lizard emerged from the fireplace, bit onto a branch, then turned the branch to ash.

【You practiced Advanced Transfiguration to an expert standard. Proficiency +1000】

Wizard Sean had never ceased practicing Transfiguration; now his 【Expert】-level Transfiguration had reached:

【Title: Master of Transfiguration】

【Transfiguration: Expert Level (212000/300000)】

At this rate, by the end of his first year, he would at least reach the threshold of Master level.

Outside the door, several heads huddled together.

The young McGonagalls watched the fire lizard emerge, then all chimed in unison: “Wow—”

“Is he a wizard?”

The speaker was Sarah McGonagall, who was pressed against the top of the door crack, with her brother and sister below her: Bard McGonagall and Zoe McGonagall.

“I think so. His eyes are so beautiful.”

Zoe McGonagall replied.

A loud meow came from afar; a pure white cat slipped through the door crack and landed before Wizard Sean’s desk, rubbing its head against his hand.

Wizard Sean stroked the white cat, and it began to purr.

“He’s just like the wizard in fairy tales—I bet he can turn you into a cat, Sarah.”

Bard seemed eager.

“Can we come in? We want to give you a Christmas gift, Mr. Green.”

He knocked politely.

The door opened by itself.

The three tumbled in in a bundle, still leaning against the door.

Several soft cushions caught them; Wizard Sean saw they still held their exquisitely wrapped gifts high even as they rolled.

And so the gift boxes floated upward.

“Wow—oh, I mean, can you turn Sarah into a cat? She’s been looking forward to this forever.”

Bard asked shyly.

Wizard Sean nodded and exchanged gifts with them.

Soon they were outside, munching on biscuits, and before leaving, they politely closed the door.

Soon their voices echoed down the hallway:

“Good heavens! He really is a wizard—a kind, helpful wizard from fairy tales! Just like the stories I’ve read!”

“You turned into a cat, Sarah—wait, can you still talk? Don’t run, Sarah!”

Then came the sound of thudding footsteps as the McGonagall children Chaonaozhe ran downstairs.

Night had truly arrived. Wizard Sean set down the gift boxes and noticed the night outside the window.

Stars always shine brighter in the countryside; the beech trees rise and fall, forming a profound and silent night scene.

Wizard Sean tapped his wand above his head, and his figure dissolved like a shadow merging into darkness—the Disillusionment Charm. He was preparing to practice Transfiguration outside the villa. Then, he seemed to hear something unintentionally.

“Millicenta, he… is he with you at Hogwarts? You know what I mean—the Hogwarts with Dumbledore.”

It was Marcus McGonagall’s voice; his usually cheerful tone had turned suddenly somber.

“Mm.”

Professor McGonagall’s voice was soft.

“Then good. Will you come with me tomorrow to visit Robert’s grave…?”

“…As you wish, Marcus.”

“Millicenta, the magical world is unstable. I have a house in Canary Wharf protected by the Fidelius Charm. If anything happens, bring him there. He’s a good boy—even Persia, my cat, adores him.”

“Hogwarts is the safest place in the world, Marcus.”

“I trust only myself. I know the Ministry’s people are already dead—you know, Robert already paid the price for us.”

“I respect your choice, but please respect mine. Don’t dive too deep. That boy still needs you.”

“Many children need me.”

“I knew you’d say that, Millicenta.”

Then came a long silence. Wizard Sean slowly remembered.

Professor McGonagall had two brothers; one died in a terrorist attack during Voldemort’s reign.

Time slipped away in silence.

Wizard Sean stood by the tranquil Black Lake, watching its still surface, when suddenly a water snake shot out.

【You practiced Advanced Transfiguration to an expert standard. Proficiency +1000】

He tucked away his wand. His gaze was as calm and deep as the Black Lake’s surface.

Voldemort killed many, committed countless atrocities in the magical world.

These atrocities seemed distant, but to those who died in the terrorist attacks and their grieving families, they were wounds that would never heal.

A single grain of sand from an era, when it falls on one person’s head, becomes a mountain.

The calm Black Lake surface resembled the enchanted mirror inside Hogwarts Castle.

Professor Dumbledore naturally omitted the Hogwarts Castle scene, but only Wizard Sean knew it was a distant prayer.

Professor Snape, Headmaster Dumbledore…

They knew what they faced, yet they did not.

The Black Lake’s surface churned again; flames erupted in its center, then hardened into the armored shell of a fire crab.

Wizard Sean gazed at the crab, and the firelight illuminated him as well.

【You practiced Advanced Transfiguration to a master standard. Proficiency +3000】

Wizard Sean wearily tucked away his wand again, but his gaze was no longer as calm as before.

He gazed across at his reflection on the Black Lake, as if staring at himself before the mirror that day.

“Only one person knows the ending of the story. So even if only one person must hold on to the end, it will be me.”

Stars glittered in the night sky; those who gaze upward know their own smallness—but sometimes, the small can forge greatness.