"You are going to do what!?" – Carsilion's silver fork clattered onto the plate before him.
"Shh, don't shout and mind your manners; there are bits of Chateaubriand on the tablecloth!" – Edward warned him and looked around cautiously.
The trendy restaurant was filled with Muggles from high society or people who didn't mind spending a lofty amount of money for a lunch at 'Mirabelle.' It was busy hour, and all the tables were packed, chatter and laughter buzzing in the premises, mixed with the rhythmic clanging of utensils and crystal glasses. Such surroundings were perfect for sharing sensitive information without being overly concerned about eavesdropping.
"Excuse my lack of refinement, Edward, but it's not every day that my best friend announces he's about to commit suicide!" – snapped the Marquis, taking a hefty sip from the wine glass, filled with his favourite Château Lafite Rothschild.
"Don't be overdramatic! We had discussed this as a possibility before." – said the Duke calmly.
"True, but we quickly dismissed it due to the extreme risk it posed for all of you." – Carsilion agreed, wiping his mouth with a napkin – "And now you're telling me that you would like to introduce Catherine to the Heads of the other six Houses as a surprise once she turns sixteen?! What kind of looney idea is that?"
"I know it may sound crazy to you, but it feels like I am finally doing something right for my daughter!" – Edward explained, his blue eyes dazzling with a mix of emotions – "She deserves her life back, and we have no right to rob her of it any further."
The Marquis sighed deeply, casting a helpless glance at his best friend.
"Look, brother, it's not like I don't understand your motivation, and I do agree this is what's fair. However, it doesn't make it smart or less of a complete disaster. You violated the Pact, and your whole family will be held responsible, including me for playing an active role into the whole ordeal."
"Don't tell me you're scared, Carsilion!" – Edward couldn't conceal his smile. It had been rare for the Duke to be the brave one between the two of them.
Carsilion's eyes flashed, casting a faint silver light for a brief moment—enough for a sudden gust of wind to ruffle his friend's honey-blond hair.
"You don't need to be so touchy!" – the Duke noted unimpressed. His smile appeared perfectly innocent, but the Marquis knew better than to trust Edward McMahon's angelic face. With a swift gesture, Carsilion knocked over his wine and water glasses on the floor, both shattering into pieces. However, instead of liquid, it was solid ice crystals, sharp as needles, that scattered on the parquet.
"Pretty low, Edd." – he commented while the staff cleaned the mess, speculating aloud about the randomly solidified wine – "Care to continue this discussion in the VIP lounge, or do you prefer going to a back alley and have a proper duel? It has been a while since our last skirmish."
"That's because, since I met Louisa, I didn't have to bother anymore. She could kick your ass just fine!" – chuckled the Duke, following his best friend towards the spacious room, behind a massive wooden door at the back of the hall.
The two men entered the empty, secluded premises reserved for the special guests of the restaurant. Edward ordered two glasses of Bowmore 1966 and settled into a comfortable armchair placed in front of an empty fireplace. Once the waiter discreetly left the room after serving the drinks, the Marquis joined his friend, casually drawing his wand and casting a Privacy spell.
"For your information, despite your wife being more than an adequate duellist, I could have disarmed her if I was really trying." – noted Carsilion.
"Merlin, are you still dwelling on this?" – exclaimed Edward, taking a sip from his glass.
"I don't want you to get the wrong impression." – said the Marquis, pursing his lips – "I just enjoy the sight of a beautiful and powerful witch being angry at me."
"Your kinks never cease to amaze me!" – chuckled the Duke, adding with a devilish twinkle in his blue eyes – "Is that the reason why you're so chummy with one Professor Minerva McGonagall?"
"We're just friends and colleagues, and not much of the former after the last term." – said Carsilion with regret.
"I suppose, one day, I should thank her for the honest and dedicated care for my daughter." – Edward mumbled, mostly to himself.
"How about thanking me, you ungrateful jerk!" – snapped the other wizard – "I am the one on the receiving end of everyone's hatred for being the 'unfair, snobbish professor Carter Thorne'. Your daughter thinks my sole purpose in life is tormenting her, but she is not nearly as bad as your son, who apparently has a lot of free time at hand, snitching to you about every breath I take."
Edward smiled at the pure annoyance reflected on his best friend's face.
"Carter, you know I can never come even close to expressing my gratitude for everything you've done for me. If it wasn't for you, I'm not even sure if my daughter would be alive today. We've been best friends for how long? Twenty years?"
"More or less." – smiled the Marquis – "If you count from that time you persuaded me to sneak out of my house and go see a movie, giving me this stupid nickname, Carter, along the way."
"Well, I couldn't shout 'Carsilion' in the middle of the theatre, could I? It attracts way too much attention. Every single Muggle would have looked at us!" – the Duke smiled back, immersed in memories of the old days.
"Courtesy to my father and his sick ambitions for me." – murmured the auburn-haired wizard, staring gloomily at the empty fireplace – "Speaking of that, have you heard anything about him lately?"
Edward looked at his friend in surprise. He couldn't recall the last time Carsilion had spoken about his father - a topic they generally preferred to avoid.
"Not really. I believe last time I saw him was three years ago when I had a business meeting with North Redmond, and he had accompanied him."
"Did he say anything?" – asked Carsilion in a seemingly casual manner.
Edward's heart clenched. He didn't need any clarifications because it was painfully obvious what Carsilion wanted to know.
"No, he didn't say a word to me. It's not like I'm one of his favourite people to begin with." – he answered, anxiously observing his friend's stone face.
"I see." – the Marquis stood up and started pacing the room, lost in thought. After a minute or two, he stopped and looked at Edward, who appeared extremely worried.
"Relax, Edd. I'm just pondering how to approach your crazy idea. I've overcome my family's disdain towards me ages ago. I'm no longer the confused and vulnerable teenager I used to be."
"I know you are not, but it doesn't mean you can't still be hurt by them."
"True, that's why your stance against the aristocrats starts to look more and more appealing." – grinned the Marquis.
"Hold on!" – exclaimed the Duke – "It's not a stance against the aristocrats! I just want a little bit of fairness. Since it's unlikely that I can achieve this through the regular channels, I'm just going to exploit the weaknesses of the system."
"Weaknesses of the system?" – Carsilion laughed darkly – "Is that how you call their total disregard of their own adamant rules, as long as it benefits them?"
"In a way…" – confirmed the other wizard – "However, my friend, like it or not, you're also part of 'them' and that's why I am so desperate for your help."
"Only on paper." – disagreed the Marquis – "If I had the power, I would have completely destroyed this rotten, hypocritical order and its petrified pseudo-morals. It brought me nothing but pain and misery, and it did the same to you and your family."
"You're probably right, brother." – sighed Edward after a few moments – "I have no right to judge you after how they treated you, but we do not have the power to riot against the Council. I've accepted this a long time ago, and all I want is to salvage my family and preserve my daughter's life, even if I need to beg on my knees."
Carsilion looked at his friend and discerned the grim determination on his face.
'I got carried away. It's not really about me or my feelings. It's about saving an innocent life from a mindless brutality. It's all that matters now.' – he thought and took a seat across from the Duke.
"I'm sorry, brother. You're right, and we should focus on how to secure Catherine's rightful place. I trust you know that Borealis and Redmond are lost causes. Regardless of how powerful your daughter turns out to be, they would want to destroy her, with or without a demon involved. They would feel threatened by her and will see this as the House of McMahon seeking to expand its influence."
"I believe you're absolutely correct." – agreed Edward gloomily – "The House of Whiters is either not going to take a position or will join Redmond and Borealis. This means that we should develop a plan on how to sway Lovett and O'Dargan to our side."
"This would be much easier if we already had the House of Prince as our allies." – said Carsilion contemplatively.
"It's going to be complicated. The last time I saw Duke Prince was the previous year during our Christmas party. He just stood on the balcony alone and stared at the garden. The only interaction he had was with Louisa when he wandlessly conjured a single red rose for her then he left." – Edward uttered discouraged.
"Poor fellow! He's not been the same after his daughter ran away from home." – noted the Marquis – "Do you remember her? Eileen?"
"Vaguely." – answered the Duke, racking his brain in an attempt to recall a memory of Eileen Prince – "She hasn't been to the Academy, right? Was she home-schooled? She always looked a bit sicky."
"I don't know. I do remember talking to her once at a party." – shared Carsilion – "She was not much of a looker, but she was very sharp and a bit funny. I did enjoy our conversation and felt disappointed when I found out she disappeared just a few weeks after that."
"I'm sure Duke Prince had found her whereabouts by now, but she probably doesn't want to see him after leaving in such a manner." – noted Edward – "However, maybe this could be the key to winning the old man to our side? After all, he lost all reason to live after his daughter left him. He should be able to understand my motivation!"
"I don't know about that. He's the Head of the Council, after all." – the other man said hesitantly – "But he's always been fair, so we definitely have better chance with him compared to the rest of the Houses."
"I hope you're right! For our sake, we need Alexander Prince to realise how beneficial Catherine could be for the aristocrats. He was once a pillar of our community and truly cared about preserving the peace among us. Let's hope it's not too late to wake him up from this walking coma he sank into fifteen years ago." – determined Edward, finishing his drink – "I need to go. The kids are leaving for Hogwarts tomorrow, and I would like to spend our last evening together as a family. As usual, I entrust them to your care."
"I also need to leave. There are plenty of things to do before the beginning of the school year." – said Carsilion, standing up. He glanced at his best friend, and his face softened when he noticed the anxiety radiating from Edward – "We're going to figure it out, Edward! Until then, Catherine's going to be safe and sound at Hogwarts. After all, nobody is that stupid to cross Albus Dumbledore and he definitely keeps a close eye on her, I can assure you."
The rain cascaded onto the grand, timeworn castle, its interior bathed in a luminous glow emanating from a myriad of candles. Meanwhile, a long line of horseless carriages trudged past the main oak front doors, while students, their voices raised in excited urgency, attempted to dash into the Entrance Hall without succumbing to the downpour.
Sirius Black leapt from one carriage, his eyes fixed upon the majestic spectacle of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A heartfelt smile graced his face as he brushed a damp streak of dark hair from his eyes. With a graceful turn, he gallantly extended his hand to the young witch who emerged from the carriage alongside him.
Catherine McMahon cast a surprised and slightly confused glance at him. With prideful disregard for the drenched gentleman, she jumped and landed straight into the mud puddle in front of the carriage she hadn't noticed. Ignoring the giggles emanating from James, Peter, and Remus, the girl promptly marched towards the castle of her ancestors, swearing under her breath with each step that produced a distinct squishy sound. Desperate to salvage her robes from the splattering mud, she attempted to lift them with a futile grace.
The young witch heaved a sigh of relief upon crossing the threshold into Hogwarts, only to have her joy cut short. Peeves, the mischievous poltergeist, hovered around the chandelier, gleefully lobbing balloons filled with ice-cold water at the already soaked students. His wicked laughter echoed through the halls each time he struck someone. As the person in front of Catherine swiftly ducked, she found herself on the receiving end of Peeves's prank, taking a direct hit from one of his balloons square in the face.
"Thanks a lot, chap!" – said Catherine, spitting water and rubbing her eyes.
"You're most welcome, Little Bird!" – the velvety voice of Lucius Malfoy reached the black-haired Gryffindor's ears. After regaining her sight, she felt her face flush with warmth while standing in the midst of the Entrance Hall. Her eyes locked onto the cold stare of the seventh-year Slytherin, adorned with a green and silver Head Boy badge and a nonchalant smile.
"Move it, Malfoy!" – shouted Sirius, who had finally managed to catch up with Catherine – "You're blocking the way!"
"I would sincerely advice you to watch your mouth, Black." – hissed the other wizard – "You don't want Gryffindor to start the term with negative house points, do you? It would be such a shame if you fail to win the House Cup, yet again."
A small crowd had gathered in the Entrance Hall, everyone trying to discern the cause of the traffic disruption.
"What's going on here?" – Carter Thorne's voice cut through the murmurs. The teacher swiftly surveyed the scene, and Catherine thought she detected a slight twitch on his face when his eyes fixed on her and Malfoy.
"Mister Malfoy, if you wish to impart your wisdom to our younger students, kindly do so elsewhere and clear the Entrance Hall. We are all eagerly awaiting the start of the Sorting Ceremony." – the DADA teacher said with a polite smile, though the young witch couldn't help but notice his eyes were ice-cold.
Lucius shrugged and promptly departed, trailed by a group of Slytherins. The Gryffindor third-years followed suit, but just before entering the Great Hall, Catherine felt a sudden gust of wind swirl around her. She gasped in surprise, turning around to find Professor Thorne still standing in the Entrance Hall, smirking in response to her questioning glare.
'What the fuck is he doing? Does he realise I know he's an Air Mage? But how? Was this a threat? Displaying his powers out of the blue?' – Catherine wondered while automatically following the boys into the Great Hall, eventually taking a seat at the Gryffindor table, next to James.
"Hey! How did you get dry so quickly?" – asked the astonished James, lifting one of his friend's braids which was dripping water just a few moments ago.
The commencement of the Sorting Ceremony interrupted their conversation, and the young witch tried to focus on the Sorting Hat's song. Nevertheless, she couldn't resist constantly glancing at the High Table where Professor Thorne sat next to Flitwick, deeply engrossed in a conversation with the Charms teacher.
Once every new student took their place around the table of their respective house, the Headmaster stood up, and the chatter ceased immediately. Albus Dumbledore smiled wholeheartedly and extended his arms as if he wanted to embrace the entire student body.
"Welcome, everyone! I am thrilled for yet another school year filled with wonder, discovery, and the potential for countless magical moments on your quest for knowledge! I encourage you to excel not only academically but also in building friendships that will endure beyond your time at Hogwarts! Before we indulge in the eagerly anticipated feast, I have a few announcements. First, entering the Forbidden Forest is naturally forbidden for everyone." – the Headmaster's blue eyes twinkled with amusement – "In addition, Mr Filch asked me to inform you that ever-shifting stepstools and sneezing powder puff are now prohibited on the school's grounds. The complete list of outlawed artefacts is available upon request at our Caretaker's office."
"Finally, there is a slight change in the Hogsmeade visiting schedule. I believe those in their fifth year and above would appreciate that, starting this year, they are allowed to visit the village every month. For those in their third and fourth years, visits are permitted every two months. That's all! Dig in!"
"Not fair!" – protested James, piling lamb chops onto his plate – "I was dying to visit Hogsmeade! Why are we only allowed a visit once every two months?"
"We can still go there! I think it's more of a reward for the older students, rather than a punishment for us." – Remus wisely determined, passing the baked potatoes to Peter.
"True! Plus, we can always use the passage below the Honeydukes." – Sirius winked at his friend.
"I didn't mean that!" – Remus cried desperately, noticing James' enthusiastic face.
"Cheer up, Mooney!" – James laughed – "We're allowed to be in Hogsmeade! The 'when' is more of an administrative detail. And we also have my invisibility cloak if you're that scared."
"Flame, back me up here!" – Remus pleaded, looking at Catherine, who was contemplating on whether or not to write to her dad and once again insist on him paying closer attention to Carter Thorne and his possible connections to one of the main Houses.
"What?" – the young witch asked, confused when she realised the boys were staring at her.
"Where are you, Flame?" – asked Sirius, annoyed – "It's not like you to be so quiet. You didn't utter a word in the train, except for snapping at me for 'invading your personal space.' You didn't touch your food, and now you're staring at the High Table like you expect a Quintaped to spawn out of Thorne. You'll feel better if you share with us!"
"It's nothing!" – Catherine muttered, stood up and left the Great Hall.
"What about dessert?" – Sirius shouted after her – "What's the matter with her?"
"I don't know. She seems stressed. Maybe her vacation was not nice. She never really shares what she's up to during the summer." – remarked James.
"Maybe it's a girl's thing." – Peter suggested with a mouth full of blueberry pie.
"What's that supposed to mean?" – asked Sirius, irritated.
"You know, changes in their bodies and such." – clarified his classmate.
"Nonsense, the only one whose body's changing is you, Peter! You have so many pimples now that I don't need a Moon map anymore!" – Sirius snapped and stared at his empty plate, suddenly losing his appetite.
Catherine halted in front of the Fat Lady's portrait, guarding the entrance to the Gryffindor Common Room. A sense of dread enveloped her. She had eagerly anticipated her return to Hogwarts. The boys were justified in complaining about her behaviour, yet she found herself unable to escape the turmoil of her thoughts. Additionally, with the awareness that she was a Fire Mage, and her abilities could manifest at random, a chilling fear gripped her— the terrifying reality that she might unintentionally harm those around her, especially Sirius, who was almost always in close physical proximity.
'It's better for everyone if I keep my distance.' – thought the young witch, bitterness creeping in at the very idea of being away from her friends.
She wiped away the tears brimming in her eyes and gazed at the portrait. The Fat Lady, all dressed in pink, looked at her expectedly with a hint of annoyance on her face. It was then that Catherine realised she didn't know the password. In her haste to leave the Great Hall, she had completely forgotten to ask one of the Prefects.
"I don't know the password." – the third-year admitted – "Would you still please let me in?"
The Fat Lady opened her mouth, ready to say 'No.' However, her expression suddenly changed, as if she was momentarily stunned, and the portrait swung backward, revealing the entrance to the Gryffindor Tower.
'That's what I call sheer luck!' – thought the girl, climbing the stairs towards the girls' dormitory – 'She shouldn't do that in principle, but who cares…I just want to go to bed.'
When Catherine entered the Great Hall the next morning, her mood hadn't improved significantly. She disregarded James' inquiring gaze and settled next to Mary McDonald. The amiable Gryffindor, with brown, docile eyes, smiled cheerfully at her classmate.
"Good morning, Catherine! I'm so glad to see you! You were asleep when we came back from the feast last night, so we couldn't catch up. Did you leave earlier?"
"Morning. Yeah, I didn't feel quite well, so I skipped the last part of the feast." – explained the black-haired girl as she poured herself a glass of orange juice.
"She must have felt very sick to miss desserts." – chuckled Lily, who was busy perusing a magazine with Gwyneth Jones.
Catherine smiled at her friend, who went back to discussing some kind of evening gown with Gwyneth.
'She truly grew up during the summer.' – thought the young witch, admiring how pretty Lily had become in just a few short months.
The mail arrived amid a storm of feathers and shrikes as hundreds of owls flew into the Great Hall. Catherine didn't expect anything, so she didn't bother to look for Orion. Nevertheless, a big grey Town Owl landed in front of the third-year, carrying a package.
"Freyja! You should bring my mail straight to me!" – cried Lily, seizing the bird along with the package – "Thank God, my mom sent me my Intermediate Transfiguration. I would have been in so much trouble with McGonagall if I didn't have a textbook."
"You got an owl?" – asked Catherine, trying not to burst into laughter while watching how Freyja was just hanging in Lily's arms like a ragdoll.
"Yeah! I finally managed to persuade my parents I needed a reliable source of communication, but now I think I shouldn't have bought a discounted owl." – answered the red-headed witch with concern.
"I'm sure she's going to be just fine once you get acquainted to one another." – Catherine remarked mercifully, still fighting the urge to laugh.
"Oh, well, at least buying her with discount allowed me to save some money for our first visit to Hogsmeade!" – chirped Lily before returning to her seat.
"Planning a trip to the Honeydukes?" – teased Catherine.
"Yeah, for sure, but I also hoped I could have a look at this new boutique we were just reading about. It's called Charmé Chic, and it's going to offer a range of beautiful dresses, robes, shoes, accessories and so on!" – explained Lily enthusiastically, snatching the magazine from Gwyneth and holding it up for Catherine to see – "And look here! They will even sell items by Sorcerié! It's one of the most famous and expensive brands in the Wizarding World! It's like Channel or Dior, you know? I would really love to just see some of the gowns. Obviously, I can't afford them, but it's still nice to look at them!"
Catherine listened to Lily with a smile. She had no doubt her friend would look beautiful in a gown by Sorcerié.
"She's not really into dresses, Lily." – Gwyneth interrupted her fellow Gryffindor and reclaimed the magazine, which turned out to be Witch Weekly – "You're not offended, right, darling? I just meant you have more of a tomboy style, but it suits you!"
"Flame looks great in whatever she wears, and she doesn't need any famous brands to show off!" – Sirius suddenly interjected, appearing behind his classmates. His face was red, and for some reason, he looked extremely agitated.
Catherine noticed Gwyneth jumped a little, and suddenly, she smiled charmingly, playing with her locks that were much more prominent than usual, showing the effect of a Curling Spell.
"But, of course, she looks great! It's just a different style. A bit dishevelled, but I do admire your self-confidence, darling!"
'Interesting how you can pretend to compliment someone and offend them simultaneously.' – thought the other girl but she didn't have the chance to defend herself because Sirius erupted.
"What you call dishevelled, normal people call natural! Better that than looking like a clown at eight in the morning!"
Gwyneth rose her eyebrows, apparently not taking offence at the boy's comment on her makeup.
"To each their own! It's pointless to argue about nonsense. I can't imagine Catherine wearing Sorcerié any time soon."
"Me neither!' – agreed Catherine with a twinkle in her green eyes – ''Let's go, or we're going to be late for Charms!'
While walking towards the third floor with Sirius, who was still furious and hurling every mean thing he could think of at poor Gwyneth, the young witch pondered the complicated life of a teenager. Although she had much more significant problems to worry about than her appearance, it still stung a little to know how the other girls perceived her. If it were Slytherins, she wouldn't have cared, but Gwyneth was not really a bad person, just a tad shallow.
'Maybe I should really wear something by Sorcerié for the next occasion I need to dress up. Mom would be thrilled. It's her own brand after all!' – the girl thought with a smug smile.
The two weeks that followed passed swiftly, compelling the third-years to hastily review the knowledge acquired during the last year and forgotten over the summer. Lessons progressively intensified, leading numerous students to spend the precious few sunny autumn days within the confines of Hogwarts' library.
Catherine didn't find the school curriculum particularly challenging, having become more or less accustomed to using only her wand for magic. However, her mind was otherwise occupied. On top of her ongoing frustration with their Animagi project, she was anxiously awaiting any news from Dumbledore. The young witch felt the overbearing need to talk to another Fire Mage and learn how to control her power, thereby preventing any unintentional harm to her friends.
She tried to maintain distance from the boys, yet they proved exceptionally persistent. Sirius insisted on sitting next to her during most of their lessons, and when he was not near her it was James or Remus who were filling in for him. Faced with this unyielding opposition to her plans, Catherine eventually relented, choosing to spend time with her friends as usual. Nevertheless, the young witch remained cautious and couldn't wholeheartedly relish their moments together.
Another concern weighing on the Gryffindor girl was the peculiar behaviour of Slytherins. In the aftermath of the tumultuous events of the previous year, Catherine remained vigilant, anticipating hexes or curses aimed in her direction at any given moment. In fact, the overall atmosphere at the school was tense. In just two weeks, two separate students experienced mysterious accidents, and both of them happened to be Muggle-borns.
"There are some dangerous things brewing in the Wizarding society." – Sirius shared during one of their first evenings at Hogwarts – "From what I managed to overhear by my older relatives, there is this guy who preaches for Pure-blood supremacy and Wizarding domination."
"What a load of rubbish!" – snapped James – "How does your family even know about him? Nobody had mentioned anything on my side."
"I'm trying not to think about it." – Sirius admitted gloomily – "The bottom line's that things can get heated. After what happened last year, I insist that you don't go anywhere alone, Flame!"
"Why?" – asked Catherine, confused.
"Because you're Muggle-born, of course!" – Sirius said, incredulous at his friend's cluelessness – "Not to mention that many Slytherins hate you for various reasons ranging from mockery to curses you sent their way. You should watch your back!"
Despite Sirius' fears, no one had attempted to attack the black-haired Gryffindor thus far. Slytherins, in fact, seemed to deliberately avoid her, with two major exceptions—Snape, who remained as hostile as ever, and, unnervingly enough, Lucius Malfoy, whose new role as a Head Boy appeared to lead him very often to the same places as Catherine. While he didn't interact with her in any way, the young witch couldn't get rid of the nasty feeling of being chased.
Another source of unease was Carter Thorne, who also somehow managed to materialise wherever Catherine happened to be. She couldn't help but notice Malfoy's evident displeasure with their teacher's constant presence. Meanwhile, Defence Against the Dark Arts classes remained surprisingly normal. The third-years delved into the study of dark creatures, and it seemed Thorne had yet to figure out how to combine tormenting Catherine with teaching students how to protect themselves from Grindylows.
Amidst all the troubles, one event successfully diverted the young witch from her turmoil.
"Animagi!" – Professor McGonagall announced the topic of the Monday's lesson during their third week of school. While the subject had always excited the students, this specific lesson was met with exceptional enthusiasm by the Gryffindor third-years, who, for the most part, were absorbing every word from the Transfiguration teacher.
When she demonstrated the transformation by turning into a silver tabby cat, Sirius even stood up from his place to get a better view. Once the teacher covered the basics, she asked if the class had any questions.
"Is there a way to choose the form of the animal you would transform into?" – asked James.
"What are the dangers of the process you mentioned, Professor?" – Peter chimed in.
"Do you still remember what you've done in your animal form?" – Sirius inquired.
"Does your scent change to mimic the animal's smell?" – Catherine also piled up.
"Oh, well, I see that this topic certainly piqued your interest." – exclaimed McGonagall – "The form of the animal is not chosen by the wizard or witch; it's meant to reflect your inner nature. For many Animagi, it aligns with the shape of their Patronus, but this is not a rule. The dangers are quite significant, Mr Pettigrew. Besides the severe legal consequences for unregistered Animagi, there are risks such as partial transformation, poisoning by the potion you are required to take as part of the process, which of course, we won't discuss today. Additionally, there are potential physical and mental injuries and pain from an incomplete transformation. That's why I stress once again that this is a lesson purely for informative purposes. If any of you have the desire to become an Animagus, I would be happy to help you once you are part of my NEWT level class."
"As for your questions Mr Black, you do remember everything you do in your animal form, and you're responsible for your actions. The only difference, which I can describe, is probably that your feelings become less complicated, serving as a sort of stress relief for some people. Miss Plantier, I honestly do not know if the scent of the Animagus changes to that of the respective animal. I doubt that anyone had ever studied such a peculiar topic. Why would you want to know?"
"Oh, just trying to understand if the transformation is complete on every level." – Catherine quickly responded.
"Good save! I'm not sure I would have been able to come up with such a good lie so quickly." – James complemented his friend after the class as they headed to lunch.
"I had thought of it beforehand." – the girl frowned – "The question was odd enough to arouse suspicion. I couldn't just hope she wouldn't ask."
"It's not like you got an answer anyway." – said Remus with a mocking smile. He was in a bad mood during the whole class, since unlike McGonagall, he was well aware of the reason behind his classmates' exquisite interest in the Transfiguration lesson.
"Yeah, but it wasn't a negative answer." – Sirius chimed in – "You were sitting close to her desk, Moony. Couldn't you smell her when she transformed into a cat?"
"I'm not a Bloodhound! It doesn't work like that! Sometimes, I can indeed sense the scents of certain people, but it needs to be really close to full moon." – the other boy responded sulkily.
"I wonder what my inner animal would be." – Peter said out of the blue, oblivious to the previous conversation.
"If there's any correlation, you're all going to turn into mules." – snapped Remus as he took a seat at the end of the Gryffindor table, busying himself with filling a plate with steaming goulash.
"I'm not convinced about the mules, but I wouldn't mind being a horse." – James contemplated.
"Oh yeah?" – laughed Sirius, grinning at his best friend – "And why's that, James?"
"I don't know; horses are cool, fast, and also strong." – said the other boy, pouring himself some pumpkin juice.
"Not to mention the huge attributes!" – laughed Sirius which caused Remus to choke on the goulash.
While the flushed Catherine was trying to help Moony, James, who hadn't found Sirius' remark offensive in the slightest, was engrossed in speculating on what kind of animals everyone would turn into.
"I would say that Sirius should be a lion, because of Gryffindor, obviously; Peter, probably a rabbit; and Flame… you would look great as a kitty-cat, just like McGonagall!"
"This could be handy!" – agreed Sirius – "This way, Flame could just curl and sleep in my lap whenever she likes."
Catherine's green eyes flashed dangerously, glancing at Sirius and his smug smile.
"The only way for me to turn into a cat is if you turn into a mouse first! I seriously doubt the House you are sorted into has anything to do with your animal form. Imagine if every Animagus who studied in Slytherin turned into a snake! It's ridiculous!"
"Except for Snivellus, who would turn into a bat!" – laughed James, joined by the rest of his friends.
"Joke aside, I just hope our forms would be strong enough to handle…well, Moony." – said Catherine, casting a quick glance around, but nobody was paying them any attention.
"I'd worry about that after we actually get to this point." – James concluded soberly – "For now, my main concern is the Quidditch tryouts this weekend. We just must make it back onto the team and finally get this damn Cup back where it belongs!"
Greg McMahon walked down the corridor on the third floor, heading towards his afternoon Charms class. He had to depart from lunch a little earlier to steer clear of the enthusiastic well-wishers eager to extend birthday greetings and engage in a conversation with him for a few minutes each.
He tried not to complain, but sometimes he envied his sister. The popularity the young wizard enjoyed at Hogwarts was nothing but an illusion, created by people who sought his future influence, wealth, and connections. His status as an aristocrat and heir to one of the main Houses, in addition to being related to the Four Founders, made every accomplishment he achieved seem insignificant or expected by default.
Such was the case with his reselection for the Gryffindor's Quidditch team during the weekend. He wished he could be as enthusiastic about it as Potter and Black, who also got back to the team. Instead, he was preoccupied with concerns about whether people anticipated him to lead Gryffindor to victory and if his perceived lack of initiative was the cause of their loss in the previous season.
The fourth-year sighed, acknowledging how tired he was. The continuous training he did with his father, who visited every week to teach him elemental magic, was draining his strength significantly. Thankfully, the worst part was over, and the young wizard was able to open himself to his element almost every time he tried, without fainting or vomiting like in the beginning. However, the fatigue remained, which was the reason why Greg snapped at Frank this morning when the latter woke him up at six with a modified rock version of the 'Happy Birthday' song, played on the boy's guitar. Naturally, this improvised serenade woke up half of the Gryffindor Tower who quickly become determined to also participate in the birthday festivities. The day had already seen a flurry of cards, petite presents, and a few more substantial ones. The young lord was dumbfounded by the expensive cufflinks, a tie, and a quill he received from some Slytherins who casually invited him and his family to some functions their relatives were hosting.
'I need to think of reasons for declining those invitations.' – Greg thought when someone grabbed his hand and pulled him into the girls' bathroom of all the places.
"What do you think you're doing?" – shouted the boy, and then he finally noticed the person who dragged him inside – "Flame!? What the heck?"
"I intended to give you this, but it seemed like you were constantly surrounded by fans without any free moments, so I had to take matters into my own hands." – the girl explained, a little embarrassed – "Here! Happy Birthday!"
The girl tossed Greg a small package, wrapped in silver paper, and dashed out of the bathroom before her brother could overcome his surprise and say anything. He unwrapped the gift and gasped, gazing at the miniature globe which appeared to contain a live underwater world, including a small Siren who was singing, seated on a moss-covered rock. For a second, Greg thought he was actually able to hear the song, but he quickly shook his head and carefully put the present into his robes' internal pocket.
Leaving the girls' bathroom with a huge grin and peppy step, he almost bumped into Severus Snape who was just passing by and stared at him with disapproval.
"Don't you know this is the girls' bathroom?" – he said to the blond boy, attempting to sound civil but without much success.
"Yeah, I know." – Greg answered casually and continued his way towards the Charms' classroom but then he couldn't help but add smiling broadly at the complete confusion on the other wizard's face – "However, I just can't resist using it!"
'Catherine's completely right.' – the fourth-year thought when he was already in class, waiting for Professor Flitwick's arrival – 'Unleashing your inner Slytherin is quite fun!'