"I have neither the means nor wish to help you with that. If you want an exemption, you should have gone to Professor McGonagall," Professor Snape said, refusing to turn from his cauldron.
Harry smiled at the fact that his ploy was working. "Thank you, sir. Is that Wolfsbane Potion?"
"Detention at six tomorrow for the cheek. And no, this is a personal variation of my own that has a more potent effect at the cost of a significantly more bitter taste. Out!"
"Thanks again, Professor," Harry replied and left in high spirits. The chance to watch the master at work was a reward in and of itself, and Professor Snape's pride when he talked about his craft even in the face of such a detriment was a show of passion Harry could only dream of. The next day, when most students were scurrying about preparing for a day that could be spent studying potions, Harry was walking over to the Headmistress's office.
Remembering the uselessness of passwords last time, he did a discreet 'Alohomora' charm and stepped inside. The room was uninhabited aside from a tabby cat resting on the desk. Having little else to do, he gave the cat a few gentle pets on the head, moving on to scratch the ears and then the chin. It purred and opened its eyes before recoiling in shock. In a flash she leaped back and transformed into his former Transfiguration professor. Like her Animagus form, McGonagall was surprisingly graceful in her landing on the chair, taking a moment to straighten out her robes, nearly licking her hand.
"Mr. Pott—"
"Professor Mc—" they both started to say at the same time. Harry yielded to her.
"Mr. Potter, my apologies for being inattentive about your arrival. That was not my intention," she said, any embarrassment from his intrusion hidden.
"I'd also like to apologise for petting you and interrupting your cat nap."
An iron glare he had seen directed at the trouble-makers of his house was a clear enough answer. "If you never say that again, yes, I'll accept it. Now what did you come here for?"
Harry pulled out his unsigned permission slip. "Since I haven't been able to contact my relatives, this hasn't been signed," he explained.
McGonagall gave the form a measured look, examining practically every inch. Harry in the meanwhile sat in uncomfortable silence. "I can't have this signed," she declared, much to Harry's relief. "Today that is," she added.
"Sorry?"
"Well your circumstances are unusual; your guardians have all but rejected you, and it it would be unfair to not account for that. To do so, I would need to first consult the Board of Governors for approval. Sirius Black being on the loose could make security a problem unless we take better measures, especially with you walking around."
Harry sighed in relief only at the fact that there was a bureaucracy between him and a signed form. "Thank you, Professor."
"You're welcome, but there is one other thing I should mention. Albus told me that you would be interested in furthering your skills in Transfiguration by studying to be an Animagus. You're welcome to stop by my office at two tomorrow."
"Very good," was the answer he gave; it was anything but that. Dumbledore had high standards, yet his kindly disposition could set someone about to get a T grade at ease. Professor McGonagall on the other hand was practically the Wizard equivalent of Margaret Thatcher. Any suggestion she gave was mandatory, meaning that Harry would be an Animagus whether he wanted to or not. At least potion-brewing was a good way to calm nerves.
Harry set up his cauldron in the dungeon to at long last brew the Polyjuice Potion. He frowned at the recipe, which in addition to being complex, had plenty of room for ambiguity. Worse yet, the knotgrass and bicorn would combine into a bitter flavour when put together. Once he was doing the finishing touches to the first step, some rushed footsteps turned his attention away.
"Clarence is missing!" Ginny said between pants.