Harold ate lunch alone in the Gryffindor common room. After all, he was the only student in the castle right now, so there was no need to go all the way to the Great Hall.
The house-elves brought the meal directly to him.
A sizzling roasted beef shank glistened with golden fat, its rich aroma laced with black pepper spreading into the air.
Beside it, hot and crispy pork chops steamed gently, perfectly paired with a special lingonberry sauce. Taking a bite while they were still warm—this was Harold's absolute favorite.
The tray also held chocolate cake, caramel pancakes, and Yorkshire pudding. A piece of buttered toast and a jug of pumpkin fizz were set off to the side.
Entrées, desserts, drinks—nothing was missing. Harold started to suspect the house-elves had just brought out the evening feast ahead of schedule just for him.
…
After lunch, the sky steadily darkened.
Thick gray clouds pressed low against the castle's towers, the air turning heavy and damp—stifling and uncomfortable.
Harold opened a window. A wind tinged with the scent of damp earth blew in, sending the curtains flapping wildly.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, and a few droplets splattered loudly against the glass.
The storm was coming.
Harold, barely containing his excitement, dashed out of the common room—just in time to run into Professor McGonagall hurrying through the corridor.
She didn't say a word—just grabbed Harold's arm.
With a loud crack, they both vanished.
Now he understood what McGonagall had discussed with Dumbledore.
Normally, Apparition was prohibited inside Hogwarts—but that restriction had clearly been lifted.
When Harold opened his eyes again, they were deep in a forest surrounded by towering oaks.
One of the trees had a hollow at its base, and inside sat a small bottle—the one containing the mandrake leaf and the Moth-of-the-Grave cocoon.
Rain began pouring down. The sky turned a watery gray, and the light dimmed quickly. A pale bolt of lightning split the clouds, followed by a deep, booming crack of thunder.
The downpour intensified, pelting the leaves in sheets. Within minutes, it was as if the entire forest had been swallowed by rain and mist.
Everything around him blurred—except the tree hollow, which now radiated a dazzling light.
First silver, then gold, and finally a ruby red that shimmered like a gemstone.
"It's time!" McGonagall shouted. "Take it now!"
His nerves on edge, Harold reached out without hesitation and grabbed the bottle from the hollow.
At once, he felt McGonagall seize his arm again. In a dizzying whirl, they Apparated back into Hogwarts.
They reappeared atop the Astronomy Tower—the highest point in the castle.
"Ready, Harold?" McGonagall's voice trembled slightly, very unlike her usual composure.
She stood three paces away, her eyes bright with anticipation.
Harold clutched the bottle tightly, heart pounding in his chest.
"I think so, Professor…" he said, trying to steady his voice. "But—what happens if I fail?"
"That's why I brought you to the castle and not the Forbidden Forest," McGonagall said, her lips tight. "Every stone and wall of Hogwarts is laced with ancient protective magic—spells designed to minimize the risk of magical backlash, allowing young witches and wizards to learn safely."
"Even Animagus transformations?" Harold's eyes lit up.
"Yes. But only for underage witches and wizards," McGonagall replied, glancing at the bottle. Her tone quickened.
"But you must concentrate, Harold. This isn't ordinary Transfiguration—it touches the essence of your soul. Even with protection, it's not without danger."
"I understand." Harold nodded. He closed his eyes, drew his wand, and pressed it to his heart.
"Amato, Animo, Animato, Animagus."
Then he uncorked the bottle and drank the potion in a single gulp.
Immediately, a strange sensation surged from his heart—pulsing out through his limbs.
Thump. Thump-thump…
Thump-thump…
His heartbeat quickened—sounding at once like one beat, and then two.
Then came the pain.
It was indescribable—like his skin was tearing, and every bone in his body was being twisted and rebuilt.
He nearly blacked out from the agony.
"Drink this—quick!"
Through the haze, he heard a voice, and something warm trickled into his mouth.
His fading awareness snapped back into clarity. The pain was still there—but so was something new. Something strange, even wondrous.
His vision shifted—the Astronomy Tower stretched tall around him, and Professor McGonagall's robes billowed like sails at the floor.
He was shrinking!
"You did it!" McGonagall's voice rang from above, elated. "Oh, Merlin…"
Harold looked down—if it could be called that anymore—and saw not his own hands, but snow-white, furry paws.
He tried lifting them. Beneath were soft, rounded pads.
It looked… familiar.
Wait—Tom's paws looked just like that.
"My Animagus is a cat?" Harold tried to ask, but what came out was a meow.
Still, McGonagall understood.
"Yes. Your Animagus is also a cat," she said, smiling broadly.
And for a moment—even the normally composed, no-nonsense Professor McGonagall—actually raised her arms in joy.
Her own Animagus form was a tabby cat.
As for Harold… she wasn't sure what kind of cat he was.
His whole body was pitch-black—but his paws were pure white, as if he had stepped in fresh snow.
And his eyes… he had heterochromia. One eye blue, one eye yellow.
But then, McGonagall frowned slightly.
Cats with different-colored eyes were common. But Harold's were… different.
You see, Animagi always retain one unique feature of their human form.
For her, it was the markings around her eyes that mimicked her glasses.
It was subtle—most wouldn't notice.
But Harold's feature wasn't subtle at all. His yellow eye was a slit pupil—exactly like the ring on his finger.
And it didn't look like a cat's eye. It looked like a snake's.
That eerie feeling… it would make Harold's Animagus form useless for stealth.
And Animagus forms couldn't be changed. Once transformed—it was set for life.
But not all hope was lost. If Harold really wanted to stay hidden… he could just shut one eye.
McGonagall's frown faded, replaced by joy again.
Her student had become a cat—just like her.
What could be more delightful?
The Hogwarts Express wouldn't arrive for some time yet, and McGonagall was already planning to find Filius and Pomona and drag them to the Three Broomsticks to celebrate.
She turned and left.
And in her excitement, she completely forgot to remind Harold—that he now had to register with the Ministry as an Animagus.
…
(End of Chapter)