Chapter 94: Professor McGonagall's Worry

Dumbledore seemed to notice the students' exhaustion as well. As the last plate of treacle pudding vanished, he announced a few notices at the briefest speed, led everyone in a hurried run-through of the school song, and then declared the feast over.

Silven followed the crowd back to the familiar Gryffindor common room and arrived at the door of his old dormitory on the second floor. The door now had an extra sign that read "Second Year."

The dormitory hadn't changed, which made Silven quite happy. After all, he had disassembled and repaired the desks, chairs, and benches in this room so many times he had lost count, so he still had some attachment to it.

Walking into the familiar round room, he found his trunk had already been delivered and was sitting beside the table.

Silven had originally planned to write his grandfather a letter as usual, but after he took out the parchment and ink, he gave up on the idea.

He and Gregorovitch should already be somewhere in some forest by now. The distance was too far, and an owl might not actually be able to deliver it. Better to wait until he got back.

Silven lay down on the bed and fell asleep very quickly.

……

The next day, the entire school remained immersed in a cheerful atmosphere. Although Lockhart's behavior at the opening feast had made some students grind their teeth in anger, the majority were full of confidence in him.

Take Hermione, for example. On this matter, her view was completely opposite to her friend Ron's, and she firmly insisted that Lockhart was a truly capable wizard.

The two had argued nonstop in the common room that morning, and now neither was speaking to the other.

Silven was definitely on Hermione's side. Then, through Hermione, he got to know more of Lockhart's admirers, and finally managed to sell that signed, Lockhart-certified, first-official-sale copy of "Me, the Magical One" to a Ravenclaw seventh-year witch for fifty Galleons.

Originally Silven only wanted to show off a little, but the other party liked it too much, and on top of that was extremely generous, opening with ten times the price right off the bat — sincerity through and through. Silven simply couldn't find a reason to refuse.

The transaction took some time. To avoid being late, Silven could only skip breakfast and hurried off toward the greenhouses.

The first class of second year was Herbology. Professor Sprout was a plump witch with a patched hat perched on her floating hair. She had a very good temperament. Seeing that Silven had only run in after the bell ended, she said nothing, only told him to quickly find a spot and stand properly.

Watching Silven gasping for breath from running all the way over, Hermione couldn't hold back and said, "Couldn't you have waited until the lunch break to deliver the book to her?"

She liked that very commemorative book too, but unfortunately her pocket money wasn't as plentiful as that seventh-year witch's.

Besides, she wouldn't spend fifty Galleons on a book that originally cost five.

"The sooner the better with this sort of thing." After steadying his breathing, Silven muttered softly, "If we waited until after they'd sat through one Defense Against the Dark Arts class, that thing would be hard to move."

"What?"

"Nothing." Silven shook his head. "I was asking what Professor Sprout just said."

"She asked us what properties Mandrake has." Hermione said, raising her hand high at the same time.

Amazing, really — Silven tilted his head to dodge Hermione's elbow. She could actually keep track of the professor's questions while talking to him at the same time.

But Mandrakes — he was no stranger to those.

Silven touched the cuff of his sleeve. When he made the Shrunken Chameleon Skin Pouch, he had used Mandrake juice.

Bought at the apothecary in Diagon Alley — a tiny bottle cost five Galleons. Silven only used a few drops, and about a third of the juice in the bottle was gone. Calculated out, it was more expensive than dragon blood.

"Ten points to Gryffindor." Professor Sprout said.

Obviously, Hermione had answered her question correctly.

But she really was generous too — answering correctly in Transfiguration only added three points, Charms was five, and Potions didn't deduct points.

Only Professor Sprout gave ten points at a time.

"Mandrakes are very dangerous. Can anyone tell me why?"

Hermione's hand shot up again. "Hearing a Mandrake's cry is fatal."

"Completely correct. Another ten points."

That made twenty now!

Less than a single class period and already twenty points added. One had to know that Harry only got fifty points for killing Voldemort once.

Hufflepuff is really great — good students, and an even better Head of House.

Afterwards, Silven also added ten points to Gryffindor — he was the first to finish the task of repotting the Mandrakes.

Silven felt a bit embarrassed. When he was pulling the Mandrake out, he couldn't help calculating how much juice could be squeezed out of it, and then subconsciously gave it a pinch.

One of the roots was snapped off just like that.

Silven really didn't mean to, but the Mandrake clearly didn't see it that way. The ones in everyone else's hands were struggling desperately, not wanting to be put into the new pot, but this one didn't need Silven to do anything — it crawled in on its own.

And so Silven became the first student to finish.

After class, the little lions could hardly hide their good mood.

"Thirty points in one class! At this rate, the House Cup this year is definitely ours too!" Ron said excitedly, chuckling nonstop.

"Don't forget about Snape." Harry wasn't as optimistic as him and sighed helplessly. "Deducting points is much easier than adding them."

The smile froze on Ron's face instantly.

Right — how could he have forgotten that biased bastard Snape? The points added in Herbology today might very well be deducted clean after the next Potions class.

That really is a sad story.

Fortunately, they didn't have that damned Potions class today.

The little lions, covered in dirt, trudged back to the castle exhausted. Some grabbed time to wash up, some simply cast a Cleaning Charm on themselves, and then hurried off again to Transfiguration class.

Silven was especially attentive in this class. He held his quill and carefully noted down every single word Professor McGonagall said — an appearance that left both Harry and Ron staring in astonishment.

"Is that still Silven?" Ron nudged Harry with his elbow. "Why do I feel like I'm seeing two Hermiones?"

"What a coincidence — me too." Harry took off his glasses and gave them a vigorous rub.

How to put it — when Silven was in class, you could only say he behaved himself and didn't cause trouble, but he absolutely couldn't be called attentive. Most of the time he would sit in a corner, taking advantage of moments when the professor wasn't looking to draw symbols no one could understand on a piece of parchment.

But what was with this Silven now — sitting ramrod straight, eyes determined, wanting to take notes on every sentence… Even Hermione, first in the whole year, was no more than this.

Even after class ended, Silven took the initiative to find Professor McGonagall to ask questions.

The sky had fallen — this guy couldn't actually be trying to become a good student, could he?

Ron's heart was pounding. If Hermione came first he didn't care — he was used to it. But if it were Silven, he really couldn't accept it.

Equally unable to accept it was Professor McGonagall.

"Mr. Ollivander, I admire your courage, but I would still suggest you might proceed step by step." She glanced at a button in Silven's hand.

Although there were no beetle legs, the patterns on it were still exactly the same as a beetle's.

"I think I need to seriously warn you — Animagus transformation is no child's play."

Professor McGonagall said earnestly, "It is an extremely dangerous form of transmutation. Many wizards have failed the transformation and retained animal features permanently — for instance, growing a long tail, or keeping the pupils of an animal. There are even wizards who could never return to human form."

"I fully understand how dangerous Animagus transformation is, Professor McGonagall," Silven said. "And I never expected to learn such a difficult transformation in just a few days. I only wanted to prepare in advance… What I mean is, perhaps you could recommend some relevant books."

Professor McGonagall stared at Silven, and after a moment said, "Can you tell me why? What made you think of learning Animagus transformation? This magic isn't really used much in everyday life."

"Because I want to become an excellent wandmaker," Silven explained. "In the future I'll probably be visiting all sorts of different forests quite often, so being able to transform into an animal at any time would be very necessary."

Professor McGonagall said nothing; she suddenly thought of Silven's grandfather.

In the entire twentieth century, only seven wizards registered as Animagi with the Ministry of Magic — Garrick Ollivander was one of them, and his name even came before hers on the list.

She recalled that Garrick's animal form seemed to be a white-forehead long-tailed monkey — also the most suitable animal form for traveling through forests.

Thinking of this, Professor McGonagall gradually came to believe Silven's explanation.

In her impression, wandmakers not only had to deal with forests but also had to move among all kinds of magical creatures, so Animagus transformation was indeed a great help to them.

But understanding was one thing — she still felt Silven was far too young.

Garrick Ollivander had registered in 1930, which meant he didn't learn Animagus transformation until he was nearly thirty.

Silven was only twelve right now; a boy who had just started second year didn't need to think about these things at all.

"Very well, I can recommend some useful books for you," Professor McGonagall said after thinking for a moment. "But you must promise me that you will absolutely not attempt Animagus transformation on your own."

"Of course, no problem." Silven nodded and agreed on the spot.

"I'll give you the book list this afternoon," Professor McGonagall said, then added, "Absolutely do not try it yourself. When the time is right, I will help you complete the transformation."

Professor McGonagall left the classroom with a heart full of mixed feelings, and two sneaky figures flashed past the doorway.

"Weasley, Potter?" Professor McGonagall said, looking at their retreating backs, but she didn't pay them much mind.

She had originally intended to head straight back to her office, but halfway there she suddenly changed her mind and left the castle directly from the first floor.

Professor McGonagall found Professor Sprout, who was turning soil in the greenhouse, and reminded her to keep a close eye on the Mandrakes lately — especially to stop certain students from sneaking off with the leaves.

Because there was one necessary prerequisite for learning Animagus transformation: keeping a fresh Mandrake leaf in one's mouth for an entire month.

Although Silven had promised her he wouldn't try it on his own, Professor McGonagall still felt uneasy — no one knew better than she did how fragile a Gryffindor student's promise was.

That was why she had specifically gone to find Professor Sprout.

Fresh Mandrake leaves were not easy to preserve, so most of what was on the market was either air-dried or ground into powder.

If Silven really had any dangerous ideas, the school greenhouse would be his only way to get Mandrake leaves.

After doing all this, Professor McGonagall finally felt a little more at ease. For the first time she thought that a student being too diligent wasn't necessarily a good thing — actually, being like Granger was pretty good.

……

(End of chapter)