Time slipped away unnoticed, and March arrived.
Maurise's life had been peaceful lately.
A while back, he had received another task from Snape: brewing the Wolfsbane Potion for Lupin.
All signs pointed to the fact that Snape harbored an extraordinary loathing for the man. He wouldn't deliver the potion himself, delegating the trivial chore to Maurise instead. The sheer disgust in the Potions Master's eyes was impossible to hide.
However, while brewing such a complex potion was mentally taxing, Maurise found it enjoyable. The higher the difficulty, the more thrilled he became.
More importantly, Snape had been generous with the ingredients, factoring in a wide margin for error. After all, even the most distinguished Potions Masters could not guarantee success on every attempt. Therefore, Maurise pocketed the leftover materials without a shred of guilt. Snape had not said a word about it, which was as good as tacit approval.
Aside from his brewing endeavors, the Firebolt that Frick had helped him order finally arrived.
The problem was that on his second day of owning it, Maurise dismantled the broom. He wanted to observe its internal structure and the enchantments woven into it, but unfortunately, he couldn't put it back together.
It wasn't hard to figure out why. The Firebolt utilized goblin magic and craftsmanship, and the goblin magical system was fundamentally different from that of human wizards. Researching and understanding it would require a tremendous amount of energy, and Maurise had no desire to waste his time on a tedious endeavor.
If he couldn't copy it, he would invent his own. It was a flying broomstick. How hard could it be?
The pity was the small fortune he had wasted on it. He wondered if he could return it as a pile of loose spare parts.
According to his schedule, Maurise planned to complete the preliminary preparations for his Animagus transformation by the Easter holidays. Before officially starting, he felt it was necessary to gather practical information to deepen his understanding of the spell.
On a quiet Saturday afternoon, Maurise knocked on the door of Professor McGonagall's office once again.
"Come in."
Pushing the door open, he was met with Professor McGonagall's resigned expression.
"You again, Maurise." She set down her quill and sighed heavily. "Out with it. What do you want this time?"
Maurise rubbed his nose, looking a little sheepish. Truth be told, his visits had been a bit too frequent lately. But then again, Professor McGonagall was the only known, registered Animagus in the school. If there were anyone else to consult, he wouldn't be bothering her like this.
"Professor McGonagall," Maurise began, smoothly taking a seat opposite her with an earnest expression. "Could you perform that one more time?"
"Perform what?" Professor McGonagall asked, eyeing him cautiously.
"Your Animagus transformation."
Just as she suspected. Professor McGonagall sighed once more. "Maurise, I am not an exhibit at a Muggle zoo."
"Just one last time, Professor. I'm so close to grasping the feeling of it," Maurise pleaded with sincerity.
She gave him a long, measuring look. "Very well. For the last time."
Maurise Black was, without a doubt, a persistent and troublesome student. While she did not dislike his zealous attitude toward learning, going to such extremes was not always a good thing.
Professor McGonagall stood up, and in an instant, her figure shrank rapidly. A second later, she had morphed into the familiar tabby cat, landing gracefully on the desk.
Maurise stared intently, analyzing every detail.
Thinking back, the first time he had seen Professor McGonagall's Animagus form was right after he first enrolled. Back then, failing to realize she was a wizard, he had conjured a ball of yarn to tease her. It was a memory filled with awkwardness.
Now, even with his magical capabilities far surpassing what they were back then, he still couldn't spot a flaw in the transfiguration. The tabby cat before him was indistinguishable from a real feline: from its fur and eyes to its posture and movements.
What was more bizarre was that he couldn't feel any magical fluctuations during the casting of the spell. This was unnatural. Every spell he had encountered before, whether from this world or from his Book of the Magi, produced magical resonance.
But the Animagus transformation did not.
'Wait, no.'
Maurise narrowed his eyes, detecting a subtle anomaly. He extended his mental perception toward the tabby cat on the desk, and a moment of realization washed over him.
It wasn't that the Animagus transformation lacked magical fluctuations; they were just internalized. Only when he probed with his mental senses could he capture that faint, almost imperceptible trace of magic.
'So that was the trick.'
Professor McGonagall shifted back into her human form, taking her seat again. She raised an eyebrow. "Is your curiosity satisfied now?"
Maurise nodded thoughtfully. "Very helpful, Professor. I have a solid idea of how it works now."
"A solid idea?" Her expression grew stern. "Are you planning to attempt the Animagus transformation?"
"Oh, not just yet," Maurise replied. "I need to be prepared first. I've recently found a lot of relevant materials in the library, and I plan to finish reading them before doing anything else."
"It is always wise to be prepared," she agreed slowly.
After leaving Professor McGonagall's office, Maurise stood in the corridor and pulled a tiny, bright green leaf from his pocket, slipping it into his mouth.
It was a Mandrake leaf.
Indeed, he was practicing the first step of the Animagus process: keeping a Mandrake leaf under his tongue for a month, from one full moon to the next. Today wasn't a full moon, so this was a simulation run.
Up until this moment, he had chewed one leaf to pieces and swallowed three others. His longest successful streak had barely lasted two days. He couldn't help it; the sensation of keeping something tucked in his mouth drove him crazy.
'He would have to take it slowly. He'd find the right trick eventually.'
"Maurise?" someone called out.
Maurise turned around to see Hermione standing a short distance away, clutching a book larger than her head. Being in this corridor at this hour, she was most likely here to see Professor McGonagall as well.
"What are you doing standing out here?" Hermione asked as she approached, looking exhausted.
"Just asking a ques... tion."
Mid-sentence, he frowned. He had swallowed the leaf again.
"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, confused.
"Nothing, don't worry about it," Maurise said, waving it off. "What about you? What brings you here?"
Hermione paused, her face morphing into a mask of distress. "I suppose it's fine to tell you, since you already know," she sighed. "It's a problem with the Time-Turner."
Maurise raised an eyebrow.
'The Time-Turner? Honestly, he had almost forgotten that Hermione was using one to attend all her classes. Just thinking about it sounded like torture.'
"What's wrong with the Time-Turner?" he asked.
Hermione rubbed the corners of her eyes. "It's draining my energy. I'm considering dropping a few elective subjects."
Maurise looked at her, pondering for a moment before replying, "Perhaps you could do what I do. Just show up for the exams and skip the classes."
Hermione considered this for a second before shaking her head.
"Impossible." She looked at him with a hint of envy in her eyes. "Maurise, not everyone is like you. There's no way I could get top marks without attending the lessons."
To this day, she couldn't comprehend how Maurise managed to place first in every exam.
"Alright, suit yourself. It was just a suggestion." Maurise shrugged. "I'm heading off. See you around."
"See you."
Hermione watched him walk toward the end of the corridor, turning the corner. Then, he vanished.
She blinked, thinking her tired eyes were playing tricks on her. Quickening her pace, she hurried over and rounded the same corner. The adjoining hallway was empty. There wasn't a soul in sight.
'Where on earth did Maurise go?'