Inside the carriage, it looked like there was only a single small room—yet in truth, it had been divided by an Undetectable Extension Charm into several rooms so huge they were almost absurd.
Sometimes Sean couldn't help thinking: the Undetectable Extension Charm—so tightly regulated by the Ministry, mainly overseen by the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office—seemed like nothing more than a toy in the eyes of truly powerful witches and wizards.
Rules, it seemed, weren't written for people like them.
And when he remembered that the old Hufflepuff alumnus had once lugged around a suitcase containing a Thunderbird, a Swooping Evil, a Nundu, and an Obscurus… MACUSA handing down a death sentence suddenly didn't feel so unreasonable.
Because that was basically the magical equivalent of carrying a nuclear bomb.
Without strict oversight, an Obscurus really could wipe out a city.
Under the warm glow of sunset, they set off.
Sean could feel the seats vibrating. He could hear the dragons roaring in exhilaration. He could feel his Wizard's Book gently rocking with the motion.
Whitey hopped excitedly on his shoulder, while Tira clung to his robe and refused to let go.
"We're taking off—"
Newt Scamander's voice sounded from ahead.
The ground and the mist-wreathed buildings sank away on both sides, vanishing from sight within moments.
The carriage climbed higher and higher. A few seconds later, all of Ilvermorny Castle spread out beneath them—hazy in smoke and mist, faintly gleaming.
"We'll need to fly for a full day," Scamander explained softly.
"I understand!"
Sean raised his voice a little, worried Scamander wouldn't hear him over the wind.
"Hold tight!"
Scamander shouted back just as quietly, and then they shot straight into low, cottony cloud. Everything turned dim and blurred.
"Isn't this fascinating!"
Professor Tayra's voice suddenly popped up. Sean looked left and right, and finally—following a strange instinct—found "Professor" inside a small mirror.
"So sharp, my dear little Green."
A miniature Tayra beamed from within the mirror. "A modified two-way mirror design—my latest project. It isn't finished yet, and it's extremely expensive."
Sean studied the mirror curiously. Tiny Tayra simply watched him, smiling.
"Can I learn—"
Sean was about to ask.
"Of course, my dear little Green. The inspiration for this creation came from the 'telephone' concept you described to me."
Tiny Tayra's smile softened the sternness of her face into something gentle and lovely. "I'll teach you everything I know."
Night fell, deep and heavy.
A dragon-drawn carriage carved across an ink-black sky.
After Sean meticulously wrote down every bit of what the professor had taught that day, he began solemnly reorganizing and reviewing it all.
By the time he finished, even Scamander had fallen asleep.
Sean's head swarmed with ideas: the "mirror" currently supported only a single line of connection, and the cost was outrageous. If he could find more suitable materials to lower the cost and increase the number of connections… maybe he really could build the wizarding world's version of a telephone.
As for why not just use a phone—because Muggle devices always malfunctioned at Hogwarts.
Once he'd moved the "mirror retrofit plan" onto the top of his planning notebook, Sean's eyes naturally landed on the very center, the very top:
[The Ravenclaw Diadem Mystery]
Sean paused.
The light in his eyes grew deeper, darker.
Mist rose.
Half-dreaming, the black cat leapt down from the "Children's Home" sign.
His borderland had gained many more mist-clusters. Since each of those clusters was connected to the black cat by a thread so faint it was nearly invisible, he'd started calling them balls of yarn.
That way, they could be distinguished from the "desire" and "temptation" mist-clusters.
And among the new ones, the largest by far was the yarn-ball labeled: Newt Scamander.
Now, as the black cat watched that yarn-ball drift toward him, he thought for a moment—and raised a paw.
In the next instant, Newt opened his eyes in the borderland.
"I'm so pleased to see you in a dream, dear Bastet."
The black cat could tell Newt truly was pleased. His whiskers trembled. "Good evening, Mr. Scamander."
"You look troubled?"
Newt smiled shyly and edged a bit closer.
How could he tell?—the black cat was impressed.
Until he noticed his own tail swishing busily. He immediately slapped a paw down on it, pinning it in place.
"I forgot something important," the black cat said, pressing his tail down.
"Some magic might help a little—Occlumency, for instance," Newt suggested, drawing even closer.
The black cat's bright green eyes lit up… but his next sentence dimmed them again.
"Sorry. I'm not an expert in that area."
Newt said it—and by now he was practically close enough to reach the cat's tail.
"Mr. Scamander… you look troubled too," the black cat said suddenly.
Newt paused.
"Dear Bastet, you have eyes that see through everything," Newt admitted.
"I may ask—?"
The black cat leaned in, intrigued. From the moment Scamander began riding in the carriage, Sean had noticed the worry between his brows.
It wasn't hard to see—after all, those orphanage years had trained him well in reading faces.
A few minutes later, when Newt spoke of his worry the way one old friend chats with another, the black cat's whiskers shook violently—and his tail slipped free, swaying lightly.
Scamander was worried about his allocation of Fairy Tale Cookies.
"That's easy to solve," the black cat said, just before the thick fog rose.
Now it was Newt who looked surprised, his shy, cautious curiosity turning into a steady stare.
All he saw was the black cat spring up—and vanish into the rising mist.
"Don't worry,"
Newt heard at last.
And when he woke fully, he could only stare into the distance in a daze.
He'd underestimated the weight of that "great being," after all.
When Newt woke, it was already morning.
The carriage was plunging through cloud. Minutes later, it burst into blinding sunlight—
into another world.
The wheels skimmed a soft sea of clouds. Under the dazzling daylight, the sky was bright, endless blue.
"Dear… Bastet,"
Newt murmured, still dazed.
And when Sean woke and opened the window, it felt like he'd stepped into a mythic dream.
What a fantastical way to travel: sitting inside a sunlit dragon carriage, weaving through spiral-shaped and pillar-shaped towers of white cloud, while the compartment behind him was filled with a lavish breakfast Will had prepared.
And he could already picture how, before long, they would descend slowly and land smoothly on the wide lawn in front of Hogwarts Castle.
So, amid the clouds, Sean began recording the duration of this dream.
Below, New York quickly fell away into the distance. In its place came flat green fields, then a vast purple marshland, then villages whose churches looked like children's toys. After that came a bustling city—countless vehicles crawling like densely packed, colorful ants.
Sean watched through the window and slowly wrote:
[Ten minutes. Progress is too fast—why?]