The next morning, Loren woke up shortly before dawn. Seeing several of his dormmates still asleep, he quietly dressed and slipped out.
The pudding he'd hidden last night had been replaced by a fresh one—this time strawberry-flavored, courtesy of the house elves. The lemon one he'd saved was gone.
After a quick breakfast, Loren took a stroll around the castle's first and second floors.
He glanced at the girls' bathroom, curiosity piqued, but hesitated. He didn't know Parseltongue, and Myrtle was rumored to haunt it. On his first day, he didn't want to risk being branded a pervert, so he let it go.
The castle breathed ancient history, every corner neat yet heavy with age. Portraits lined the corridors, many of their subjects alive and greeting Loren as he passed.
He spent quite some time navigating the tricky staircases—he didn't yet know their peculiar rules, and more than once he was suddenly transported between floors, which slowed him down considerably.
As the corridors filled with arriving students, Loren returned to the dormitory to wake Harry and the others still sleeping. Without delay, he grabbed his textbook and rushed to Transfiguration class.
When he entered the classroom, Professor McGonagall was already perched on the desk in her cat form—front paws straight, tail curled neatly around them.
Suddenly, Loren's eyes deepened as his innate vision activated; the cat glowed softly with a red light.
McGonagall, even as a cat, locked eyes with Loren and noticed the obscure shadows in his blue pupils. She didn't react—showing her Animagus form to first-years was a clever way to spark interest in Transfiguration.
Loren's vision returned to normal, and he quickly sat down, pretending nothing had happened.
Hermione was already there, seated mid-row, flipping through her Transfiguration textbook.
"Did you see the cat on the podium?" Loren leaned over.
Without looking up, Hermione replied, "It was here before I arrived. If I were you, I'd focus on class instead of chatting."
"It's still early. You've almost memorized the textbook—why not play with the cat a bit?" Loren grinned mischievously, like a devil tempting someone into a soul contract.
Hermione glanced at the cat, a little moved despite herself. She'd indeed nearly memorized the book but kept rereading it to ease her nerves.
"That tabby's fur is so shiny and clean. Must be nice to pet it a few times while the room's still quiet." Loren's grin deepened, wicked.
Encouraged by Loren's teasing, Hermione cautiously approached and stroked the cat's head—a small but brave step in this unfamiliar place—then quickly withdrew.
Loren sat up straight. "Well? Not bad, huh?"
Hermione smiled, visibly more relaxed. "What do you think Professor McGonagall will teach us today? The principles of magic? Maybe a simple Transfiguration spell?"
The schemer in Loren wanted to prank, but he held back and answered seriously, "I don't know… but I haven't memorized the book yet, so I should…" He coughed twice to cover a suppressed laugh.
Opening his book with mock solemnity, Loren said, "I want to learn."
"Okay, no more joking," Hermione warned.
Harry and Ron were late, having wasted time chatting at dinner and then getting stuck on the stairs.
Hermione watched them arrive with a pout, then looked at the podium, where the tabby cat transformed back into Professor McGonagall, her expression stern.
The girl paled, stunned and speechless.
Loren shrugged beside her, chuckling quietly but restraining himself.
After scolding the tardy boys, McGonagall began the lesson.
"What you saw was Animagus, a high-level Transfiguration allowing a wizard to transform into a suitable animal and perform tasks humans cannot."
Excitement bubbled through the classroom, growing loud.
"I want to be a lion! Gryffindor's Animagus should be a lion!"
"An eagle would be better—then you could fly!"
"Maybe Slytherin's Animagus would be a snake?"
The conversation drifted wildly off-topic.
"Quiet!" McGonagall snapped. She pointed her wand at a desk, which twisted and expanded. One end sprouted a tail, the other a pig's head. As the corner became a pig's hoof, the desk transformed into a fat squealing pig.
Students widened their eyes, captivated by the magic, and fell silent.
McGonagall then pointed her wand at the pig, shooting a stern glance at the class as if warning any misbehaving student they might share the same fate.
Under her explanation, the class slowly grasped that Transfiguration was advanced magic requiring deep theory and long practice.
McGonagall handed each student a match and asked them to try turning it into a needle.
Hermione didn't speak to Loren, silently waving her wand and making small but visible changes.
Loren approached, trying to help. "Before waving your wand, think carefully about the needle's shape—how long, how thin, which end is the point."
Hermione didn't respond, swinging her wand with more vigor.
Hearing the faint whistle of her wand movement, Loren felt like she might hit him if he said more.
Soon, Hermione transformed her match into something needle-like—still match-thick but unmistakably needle-shaped.
"Hermione Granger has made rapid progress—five extra points!" McGonagall smiled, rare and genuine. She was clearly pleased with such talent.
The professor ignored Hermione's earlier rudeness, putting her at ease.
After several demonstrations and key explanations, McGonagall ended class with a note:
"Loren Morgan, come to my office tonight."
Loren's heart skipped. He was caught—the real culprit of the mischief revealed. No blind Dora here.
That afternoon was Herbology with Professor Pomona Sprout, a cheerful teacher whose class flew by.
Although Hermione was in Loren's group, she remained silent toward him.
…
In the evening, Loren knocked on the door of the small study next to the second-floor corridor—McGonagall's office.
"Come in," came her voice.
Inside, McGonagall was marking papers—possibly homework from older students.
Loren took a stool and sat quietly, waiting.
After a while, she looked up, stood, and said, "Come, let's go see Headmaster Dumbledore."
"Professor, it was just a prank—there's no need to see the headmaster!" Loren panicked.
Without reply, she strode out. Loren hurried after her, explaining, "I really didn't mean to tease you or Hermione maliciously…"
McGonagall kept her stern expression, silent.
They walked to the third floor, stopping before a huge stone gargoyle.
"Licorice wand!" McGonagall commanded. The statue leapt aside, revealing a wall that split open.
Behind it was a spiral staircase moving upward like an escalator.
As they stepped on, the wall slammed shut behind them.
They ascended until they reached a gleaming oak door with a brass griffin knocker.
Loren followed McGonagall inside.
Dumbledore, white-bearded and calm, was waiting.
"Well, Mr. Morgan, nice to meet you," he said seriously.
No matter the situation, Loren never felt overwhelmed. He sat down comfortably.
"Oh! Headmaster Dumbledore, I've heard of you for a long time."
Both men laughed heartily at that.
Dumbledore produced a box of cockroach sweets from beneath the table and handed it to Loren.
"Being around young people seems to keep me young."
Loren took one, placing it neatly in his mouth.
"You should come to the lounge more often and tell us stories," he said.
Dumbledore's smile deepened, clearly pleased by Loren's boldness.
"Professor McGonagall told me about you. Hogwarts always attracts students with unusual talents."
Loren blinked. Was teasing people a talent?
McGonagall, standing nearby, finally spoke: "Loren's eyes are a little different. He sees things others can't."
"Yes. You told me before term started about a student who could see Apparition landings," Dumbledore said.
McGonagall added, "This morning, Loren seemed to see through my Animagus form, so I brought him here."
Loren realized this was about his mysterious ability.
"Can you share your perspective, Loren?" Dumbledore smiled warmly.
"Of course!" Loren said eagerly.
He recalled the scene carefully. "Regarding Apparition, before Professor McGonagall appeared, I saw blurry distortions in space."
He paused. "This morning, I noticed a red glow on the cat on the podium, which felt familiar, so I guessed what it was."
McGonagall added, "Then he used it to prank poor Miss Granger, frightening her all class."
Dumbledore laughed heartily. "What an enviable age."
They talked more, and the professors told Loren many in the world had magical talents—some inherited, like Veela charm in half-bloods, some awakened, like Metamorphmagi or seers.
Neither knew the full nature of Loren's eyes. Dumbledore promised to research and consult old friends, promising Loren news when available.
Their conversation lasted a long while. Loren and Dumbledore polished off the entire box of cockroach sweets.
When McGonagall suggested it was time to leave, Loren made a decision.
"By the way, Headmaster, I saw some strange things recently. I think I should tell you…"