Eric woke up to the firm teasing of Midget of Widget. It took him a few minutes to remember why his two burrow owls were diligently tormenting him. He had loaned them to Hagrid to wake him up for his morning duties. Sneaking out of the Ravenclaw dorms, he was met by Willy, who had a hearty breakfast of eggs, sausages, and boiled grutta waiting for him.
After he finished, cleaned up and dressed, Willy called quietly to him. "Master Eric, these have to be the most confusing items sir has ever asked Willy to prepare. Why did you ask for these items?"
Eric looked out to the garments Willy was holding, then replied with a smirk. "Because I have a sneaking hunch I'll be needing them."
Eric suited up and headed out to Hagrid's hut, pulling and twisting against the suit Willy had fashioned for him. It would take several days of work to get the joints to break in, but given the task at hand, a suit of armor seemed to be in order. Not having the ability to fashion metal plates or effectively disguise them, he was left with thick leather.
"Dere yeh are, boy! Didn' want you to miss this!" Hagrid was beaming as he started to toss huge slabs of meat about the field. "That's it, boy, we've got to feed the buggers, after all."
As Eric began to follow Hagrid's lead, he began to see what he was all excited about. Circling overhead were a dozen winged figures, shadowed in the pre-dawn haze. As they came downwards, Eric began to make out what they were: hippogriffs.
Each creature had it's own distinct appearance, though most gave away their European heritage through their dark brownish coloring. Mediterranean hippogriffs had much lighter coats and plumes. Eric knew that he'd have to be careful around this group. They were known for being easily startled or offended, and although appearing ungainly, they were in fact efficient predators capable of lightning fast reactions.
Hagrid shuffled over with towels and a bucket of water to where Eric stood waiting. "I see you dressed for work; good lad. Best to clean up, though. You wouldn't want them smelling blood on yeh – they'd think there'd be more to eat." Taking the hint, Eric quickly mopped off his hands and arms, making a point to soak the blood off his clothes. "Now, the first thing yeh have to remember is to be polite. Hippogriffs are proud beasties, an' they don' take well to rudeness. So, walk about an' introduce yerself, an' it's proper to bow."
Eric paused for a second, deciding whether or not he had lost his mind. On the one hand, he had been looking forward to becoming a teacher's aid, especially Hagrid's, for the better part of the last two weeks. On the other, his guardian was asking him to step into a field of clawed, beaked monsters to exchange courtesies. He could have fled, but that would be admitting that he wasn't up to the challenge. Mustering all the courage he had, he stepped boldly into the field dead in the midst of them. He then drew him through the most formal gesture he could, as if he was greeting the Queen.
The response astonished even Hagrid, as eight of the hippogriffs paused from their eating to turn to him, bowing in reply. Spotting the other four in a corner group, Eric moved to face them directly, then proceeded to kneel before them. Although previously aloof, this proved satisfactory, as the four then granted him a reasonable courtesy.
Hagrid's eyes welled with tears of pride. "Beautiful! I'm so proud of yeh, boy! I'd never had thought a first time handler could do so well." It was worth the risk to hear the joy in Hagrid's voice as he made his way around the field, giving attention to each one in turn while giving way when one or the other wished to move about. After a while, walking about in the middle of the flock seemed more than natural.
Hagrid worked his way over to Eric. "Now, all yeh have to do is to keep the others occupied while I harness each one to get them into the stables. Ye're doin' great. By the way, how did yeh know how to handle the ones in the corner?"
Eric turned back to them, puzzled for a moment. "I don't know; it just seemed the thing to do at the time."
"Well, it was indeed." Hagrid beamed about the flock. "How do you think my first class will go?"
Eric looked about at the flock as they lazily strutted up and down the field. His heart raced as one or the other reared up to shake out it's wings. It was the most majestic sight he had ever seen. "They're going to be awestruck, Hagrid. It'll be amazing!"
It took the better part of three hours to get the flock settled. They didn't take well to harnessing, though it was reassuring that the end of the shift found Eric removing his suit without a scratch on it. He chided himself for overreacting; Hagrid really knew what he was doing. For all their potential, the hippogriffs were quite peaceful and well behaved. As long as nobody did anything blindingly stupid, the afternoon class was sure to proceed without a hitch, and have the desired effect of impressing everyone with something far better than Professor Kettleburn's snapping snails.
He barely had time to get a late morning snack down before heading for Professor Trelawney's room. Unlike most of the other classrooms, the Divinations room had no shortcuts and no back entrances. It was the highest room of the tallest tower, and no path taken was any easier than another. As a result, by the time he had reached the room, he was exhausted, and the room's darkened mood made it dreadfully hard to stay awake.
Eric always sought to have the utmost respect for all the Hogwarts instructors. Sybill Trelawney, however, had traditionally had a problem defending her integrity. Her predictions tended to follow easy paths, and were just vague enough to be interpreted a number of ways. Eric knew that a number of her students had bluffed their way to exceptional grades through a simple charting of what she presented.
Trying desperately to stay awake, Eric found himself gazing into the various crystals and baubles that littered the room. There was no doubt that the layout and surroundings were moderately hypnotic, which would explain the professor's tendency towards being, well, slightly goofy. It was, therefore, only a matter of time before he lost his grip on consciousness and began dreaming of Hogsmeade and the fall trip. He saw himself going through the village, stopping at one place or the next, but moving past the main street into the back alleys, searching for one special place, a place where he could find answers.
The dismissal of class woke him out of his stupor. Looking about, he was grateful to see that Dorian was the only person that noticed his nodding off, and his friend had covered for him successfully. As he left, however, the professor stopped him. "So, how did you like your first glimpses into the unknown?"
Not wishing to give himself away, he chose the safe road. "To be honest, professor, if today was any indication, I doubt I have much insight to offer."
"That is the case with most. I would, however, appreciate it if you could stop by this evening. Something came up when I tested you that I wish to pursue, if that's all right?" Staring at him through her spectacles, he was sure she caught him napping.
"Um, sure, would that be right after dinner?"
"You will face several complications this afternoon. Eight o'clock will be suitable."
Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration class was far more engaging. Although Eric wasn't required to pay attention, he found himself hanging on the professor's every word as she began to explain the principles that govern the transformations of Animagi. Once he had the basics down, he began to work on more complicated patterns, examining the options until the path became clear. As the class finished, he began to lay out several sheets that, in his mind, suggested the proper course of actions.
"Well, Mister Sable, I see that I've managed to secure your interest at last." Although her tone seemed brisk, there was an underlying amusement to it that suggested that capturing his attention was a personal goal of hers, and that success suited her mood well. "So, what have your contemplations developed this time?"
Eric suddenly felt the need to back away. The last time he presented a work in progress to her, his paradigm of the Philosopher's Stone. Professor McGonagall had chosen to confiscate it, and in the end it was destroyed. While he agreed that it was for the best, Eric never forgot how much work he lost in a single stroke.
However, the professor also gave him permission to work on advanced projects, and there was no way that he was going to improve if he didn't share his discoveries. "Well, here's the basic transformations, and here's the link that makes it a permanent enchantment." Eric went on for several minutes before finally reaching the finish of his work.
"Well, I can see that we've been working on a proper assumption. Independent study suits you." She then moved next to Eric and startled him by lightly laying her hand on his shoulder. "I should warn you: becoming an Animagus should not be taken lightly. On the one hand it can be rewarding, entertaining and enjoyable. On the other, many have been known to abuse it, and having the ability means registering with the Ministry – which leaves your privacy in question for the rest of your life. Furthermore, although an Animagus can transform into the animal of their choice, they must select one form. Once that form is selected, it can never be changed. That is why students are forbidden to pursue this line of magic until their sixth year."
As the professor turned back to her desk, Eric began to pack his papers, then a question hit him. "Has anyone ever taken the form of a magical creature?"
McGonagall turned about slowly. "There have been many who have tried. None have succeeded, and the level of failure ranges from complete failure to spontaneous combustion. Most often, the caster simply doesn't achieve the results they were looking for, and are stuck with an optional form they despise so much, they never use it. Those, however, are the lucky ones."
Eric finished gathering his papers in silence. He suddenly found himself with something new to think about.