Chapter 254: Storms Rising

“The report exaggerated a lot.”

Wizard Sean answered.

“Admitted it…”

Ron’s pupils dilated instantly; he froze like he’d been hit with a Full Body-Bind Curse, holding his previous pose without moving.

“You just entered the Wizarding World, and now you’re Nicolas Flamel? Merlin’s joke…”

He held the newspaper, comparing Wizard Sean over and over, then calmly accepted it.

Anything Wizard Sean does is unsurprising.

“What is it? Wizard Sean, oh, can I know what it is?”

Ron asked cautiously, feeling he might not even live in the same Wizarding World as Wizard Sean.

“Just some Transfiguration cookies.”

Wizard Sean replied, flicking his wand naturally; a cookie appeared in Ron’s hand.

Ron stared wide-eyed, glancing left and right, seeing nothing unusual, then opened his mouth to bite.

“That will transfigure you into a Hippogriff.”

Wizard Sean said.

“Ah—!”

Ron quickly dropped the cookie. The baked treat indeed bore the shape of a Hippogriff, but no one could have predicted it possessed such potent effects.

In the garden, Ron examined the cookie from every angle; at the dining table, everyone was in heated discussion.

“The Wizarding Weekly calls him the most talented Alchemist of the century—and a handsome little fellow!”

Mrs. Weasley examined the newspaper tucked inside the Daily Prophet, its color and layout meticulously arranged.

This was the publication beloved by witches of all ages—the Wizarding Weekly.

It primarily featured celebrity news, including Quidditch stars, along with personality tests, advice columns, and recipes.

By the way, the Most Enchanting Smile Award was also presented by the Wizarding Weekly.

At this moment, Mrs. Weasley pointed to a photo taken from behind; it was easy to discern the young wizard’s upright figure and transcendent aura.

Of course, this might also be due to the photographer’s skill, but regardless, a mere back-view image had already set wizards’ imaginations ablaze.

“The Daily Transfiguration claims they’ve been waiting for this Alchemist’s arrival—I’ve never seen them show such humility before…”

Percy’s focus differed from Mrs. Weasley’s; his eyes brimmed with longing for fame.

Only Mr. Weasley, unusually silent today, occasionally cast his gaze toward the garden.

After the latest editions of the Daily Prophet, the Wizarding Weekly, and the Daily Transfiguration were released, the entire Wizarding World erupted in uproar.

“Cookies that can transfigure into magical creatures?! Merlin—can this even be done?!”

“The shop operates on an invitation-only system, with a minimum price of seven hundred Jin Jin Jialong per piece? That actually seems reasonable… goodness, I can’t believe I just said that…”

“Where is this Mr. Hermes?! Is he really a Hogwarts student, as Rita claimed? That’s terrifying.”

Wizards everywhere were discussing it—especially in Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley, places where wizards shopped and chatted after meals.

Meanwhile, the Ministry’s tests were already underway in full swing. When Mr. Weasley arrived at work, he found the entire second floor in chaos: walls bore several holes, still radiating intense heat.

“Arthur, you’re here!”

Mr. Weasley’s friend greeted him,

“You really should’ve seen it—those idiots in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes turned themselves into fire dragons! Ugh, look at these walls—all from ‘Mini Fire Dragon Cookies.’ Apparently, real Fire Dragon Cookies are coming next.

I bet the entire second floor of the Ministry won’t survive.

But I have to say, those cookies really work—it’s just fascinating to wonder who this Mr. Hermes really is…

…

Far away at Hogwarts, Dumbledore was chatting with Professor McGonagall.

Summer had quietly arrived around the castle grounds; the sky and Black Lake alike had turned a pale, violet-tinged blue, and even in the Headmaster’s office, honey-colored tower spires could be seen.

“Minerva, I hope I can grow accustomed to the days without you.”

Dumbledore smiled warmly, taking a newspaper from the owl’s claw as it flew through the window, speaking as if lost in thought,

“A clever reference… Minerva, what a fine young man, isn’t he? We all know—fame is tempting. For some wizards, it symbolizes power. Few can refuse it, and today’s outcome? I often think it’s your doing…”

Minerva McGonagall took the article from Dumbledore’s hands; even from the back view, she instantly recognized which young wizard it was.

Her lips pressed tightly, as if suppressing surging emotions, and every unspoken word overflowed from her gaze.

“Albus, I must go.”

She walked swiftly away, glancing back at the old wizard who seemed forever imprisoned within the Headmaster’s office, and whispered,

“I thought change would never come—but now I see, memories are the only path without return.”

Hogwarts Castle had endured countless winters and summers over a thousand years; every stone wall held secrets buried beneath snow and wind.

Once, two people who had lost their beloved shared secrets—and today, one of them left the castle.

Albus Dumbledore stared blankly at the newspaper; only a faint sigh echoed through the Headmaster’s office.

Outside the Burrow.

Fields and clumps of trees formed dark patterns; near the gate lay a pair of high leather boots and a rusted cauldron. Several plump brown chickens pecked at the ground in the yard.

Ron, as if hiding a monumental secret, trembled with excitement, standing beside Wizard Sean and endlessly speculating whether Wizard Sean would become Head Boy or Prefect.

But then he smacked his forehead—he’d been far too narrow-minded.

Wizard Sean would at least become an Alchemy Professor someday!

Soon, Professor McGonagall’s figure appeared not far from the Burrow; she had arrived a full hour before the agreed eight o’clock.

This caught Mrs. Weasley off guard while she was busy in the kitchen; she abandoned her pots and pans to clean themselves, then stepped out and placed a hand-knitted scarf into Wizard Sean’s hands.

“You’ll need it, little Green.”

Wizard Sean looked at the scarf: a delicate eagle motif, embroidered with the letters “Green.”

“Thank you.”

He turned again—the front of the Burrow was now crowded with wizards. Ron wondered why Professor McGonagall had come to pick him up, but dared not ask;

Percy kept insisting Wizard Sean could ask him for anything at Hogwarts, while the twins shouted loudly:

“Percy only says that to people he thinks are useful—he never talks like this to us.”

This made Percy’s face flush red.

At the very back, a group of goblins clustered around the garden gate, shrugging their shoulders and sniffling.