As autumn leaves drifted down in the courtyards of Hogwarts, the third-year students finally welcomed their long-awaited trip to Hogsmeade. Harry, Ron, and Hermione, buzzing with excitement, grabbed the pocket money they'd scrimped and saved during the week, ready to make the most of this rare Saturday.
The reason Harry and Hermione suddenly had time for a Hogsmeade outing on a Saturday had a lot to do with recent reforms in the teaching schedule at the Research Institute. Unlike their first and second years, the beginner courses for ordinary young witches and wizards had been cut from two days a week to just one starting in third year. At the same time, though, the Institute had introduced more specific, in-depth advanced courses—equivalent to Muggle high school or university levels. Students could now choose one or more subjects based on their interests, including mathematics. Hermione, predictably, had signed up for physics, chemistry, and biology, alongside math.
So, on a warm Saturday noon, under a blanket of golden sunlight, the students lined up to leave Hogwarts Castle. They boarded carriages that rolled through layers of Dementor guards, heading toward Hogsmeade Village.
Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville shared a carriage, watching the scenery whip past as it receded behind them. They chattered happily about their plans for Hogsmeade. Ron and Neville, having grown up in the wizarding world, knew the village like the back of their hands. With their enthusiastic rundown, a vivid picture of Hogsmeade sprang to life in Harry's mind.
After stepping off the carriage, the four made their first stop at Hogsmeade's most famous watering hole—the Three Broomsticks. It was the village's most popular pub, warm and cozy inside, with a roaring fire crackling in the hearth.
At Ron's suggestion, Harry and Hermione each ordered a steaming mug of butterbeer. After adding some snacks to their order, the group settled at a table tucked into a corner.
Among peers with shared experiences, there's always an endless stream of things to talk about. Time slipped away unnoticed as Ron and the others griped about professors and classes.
Once they'd finished their butterbeers, Neville parted ways with the trio, heading off to Honeydukes sweet shop. Harry, Ron, and Hermione, sticking to their original plan, made their way to Zonko's Joke Shop. According to Ron, it was the go-to spot for Hogwarts' young witches and wizards. "You can find pretty much any prank gadget your mind can dream up here," he said.
No sooner had Ron finished speaking than he darted off into the crowd, eagerly inspecting the array of bizarre prank props, leaving Harry and Hermione to wander aimlessly on their own.
Now down two "guides," Harry and Hermione began meandering without purpose. Eventually, they stumbled upon a small tea shop at a street corner. Its sign, written in flamboyant script, read: Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop.
"Shall we take a look inside?" Hermione suggested.
"I'm in," Harry replied. "I'm actually a bit thirsty."
With that, the two stepped into the cramped little tea shop.
The interior was tiny and steamy, as if everything had been adorned with frills or bows. They sat at the last available round table, right by a misty window. Next to them, a blond boy and a pretty dark-haired girl leaned into each other, hands clasped tightly, the picture of young love.
Harry shifted uncomfortably. He glanced around and noticed the room was filled with couples, all holding hands. His unease grew. Across from him, Hermione, perched on her chair, didn't seem entirely at ease with the odd atmosphere either.
"What'll it be for you two?" A plump middle-aged witch with glossy black hair tied in a bun squeezed her way between tables to reach them.
"Two cups of tea," they said in unison.
"No, one cup of tea," they corrected, again in sync.
"Er…" they faltered, together.
The plump witch smiled at the pair, now visibly flustered. "One cup each, then, right?"
Hermione, staring down at her hands resting on her lap, gave a small nod.
Ten minutes later, they bolted out of Madam Puddifoot's as if their lives depended on it.
After that, too wary to wander further, they hopped a carriage straight back to Hogwarts.
The next day, amid the eager anticipation of Gryffindor students, Sunday afternoon at six o'clock rolled around. Following Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff's tryouts, it was finally time for the Gryffindor Quidditch team to hold their new member selections. Meanwhile, two figures hurried up the wooden stairs leading to the Quidditch stands.
"Harry, how could you forget Ron told you this morning to come watch him and Ginny try out for the team tonight?" Hermione grumbled as she climbed.
"You've got some nerve saying that," Harry shot back, rolling his eyes. "When we got back to the common room earlier, who was it that insisted on dragging their Potions homework to the library to look up references? If I hadn't glanced at the noticeboard, you'd probably be happily holed up in there right now."
Even after they found seats, the two kept bickering back and forth.
Overseeing the tryouts was Wood, a seventh-year Harry had met back in his first year. The tall, handsome senior hovered confidently on his broom, scrutinizing the hopefuls. They flew in pairs, passing a ball back and forth just a few feet off the ground. Even with something as simple as catch-and-throw, plenty of students struggled to control their brooms while tossing or catching the ball accurately—or at all.
After one round, the pool of candidates shrank from over a hundred to just twenty-nine. Wood then began testing each of them individually.
As Harry expected, Ron—who'd honed his skills playing Quidditch with his brothers at home—made the cut without a hitch. Judging by the final lineup, it seemed Wood had his eye on Ron as a potential Keeper for the Gryffindor team after he graduated. But Ginny's performance genuinely surprised Harry. The fiery redhead didn't just fly fast and well—she dominated the Snitch-chasing round, leaving the others in the dust. Watching them zip around on broomsticks, Harry suddenly felt an itch to give it a go himself.
Not that he planned to try out for the team. For some reason, though, Harry found himself craving the rush of flight.
So, once the tryouts wrapped up—after Wood and the team celebrated Ginny and Ron's addition, and after Ginny, Fred, and George had left the pitch—Harry couldn't hold back any longer. With only Ron still lingering to practice, Harry cast a Feather Fall spell and leapt from the stands.
Under Ron Weasley's stunned gaze, Harry mounted the broom he'd borrowed from him and took off like a bird, soaring freely through the air. He pulled off a death spiral, then gripped the broom with both hands for an upside-down stunt, followed by a cobra maneuver. In his hands, the broom felt like an extension of himself. He made a bog-standard Cleansweep Five fly with the flair of a Nimbus 2001.
Finally sated, Harry dove toward the ground at a near-vertical angle, pulling up gracefully an inch from the turf.
"Here's your broom, Ron," Harry said, handing it back to a still-gobsmacked Ron with a satisfied grin. "Oh, and keep this under wraps, yeah? Otherwise, Wood'll nag me to death."
"Harry, you fly that well and you love it so much—why not join Quidditch?" Ron asked as the three walked back to the castle, clutching his new broom and eyeing Harry with confusion.
"Liking flying doesn't mean I'd automatically love Quidditch," Harry replied with a laugh.
"Recent studies suggest that after wizards transform into their Animagus form, their thought patterns begin to align with those of the animal. Entities that rely on thoughts and emotions to distinguish wizards from animals—like Dementors, who feed on human happiness and souls—could potentially be deceived by an Animagus transformation…"
Up at the podium, Professor McGonagall was summing up last lesson's material before diving into a recent academic paper on Animagi. Below, Harry's eyes lit up.
Dumbledore had barely been at school since term started, and ever since the Ministry stationed Dementors around Hogwarts, Harry hadn't had a chance to slip past their watch and visit the lovable Acromantulas in the Forbidden Forest. Invisibility spells or Disillusionment Charms didn't matter—one step toward the forest, and the Dementors would swarm, drawn by the scent of a human.
Killing them all off wasn't an option—the Ministry's warning letter was still sitting in his bedside drawer. But letting them linger was getting really annoying.
What if he could become an Animagus, though?
No sooner had the thought struck than Harry dashed off a letter to Sirius, asking how one becomes an Animagus.
A day later, Hedwig returned with Sirius's reply.
Step one: To become an Animagus, you must hold a single mandrake leaf in your mouth for an entire month (from full moon to full moon). You can't swallow it or take it out at any point. If the leaf leaves your mouth, you have to start over.
Step two: At the next full moon, remove the leaf and place it in a crystal phial filled with your saliva. Let it soak in pure moonlight (if it's cloudy that night, you'll need a new leaf and have to begin again). Add one of your hairs and a silver teaspoon of dew—dew collected from a place untouched by sunlight or humans for seven full days. Then add the chrysalis of a Death's-head Hawk Moth. Store the mixture in a quiet, dark place, and don't touch or disturb it until the next thunderstorm rolls in.
While waiting for that storm, at every sunrise and sunset, point your wand at your heart and recite: "Amato, Animo, Animato, Animagus."
Next, you wait for the storm. This could take weeks, months, even years. During that time, the phial must remain undisturbed and unexposed to sunlight. If sunlight taints it, the result could be a catastrophic mutation.
As you repeat the incantation at dawn and dusk, there'll come a moment when you feel a second heartbeat as your wand touches your chest. Sometimes it's stronger than your own, sometimes fainter. Whatever happens, stick to the routine—say the spell exactly as required, no skipping.
Finally, the instant lightning splits the sky, rush to where you hid the phial. If you've done everything right, you'll find a single dose of blood-red potion inside.
Once that's ready, head immediately to a wide, safe space where your transformation won't draw attention or put you in danger. Point your wand at your heart, say "Amato, Animo, Animato, Animagus," and drink the potion.
If all goes well, you'll feel intense pain and two racing heartbeats. The creature you're about to become will flash in your mind. You must show no fear—by then, it's too late to back out.
The first transformation is usually deeply uncomfortable and alarming. Clothes, glasses, or jewelry meld into your skin, turning into fur, scales, or claws. Don't resist or panic, or the animal's mind might take over, driving you to do something daft like leap out a window or charge a wall.
Once transformed, you should adjust to your new body. It's strongly advised to pick up your wand right away and stash it somewhere safe for when you change back.
To return to human form, picture yourself as clearly as possible. That's usually enough, but if it doesn't work immediately, don't freak out. With practice, you'll be able to switch between animal and human forms just by imagining the creature.
After reading Sirius's letter several times over, Harry set to work on becoming an Animagus.
Everything went smoothly—smoother than he'd expected. The second heartbeat even showed up ahead of schedule.
Finally, on November 15th, Harry stood in a clearing in the Forbidden Forest, a small vial of blood-red potion in hand.
He pointed his wand at his heart and intoned, "Amato, Animo, Animato, Animagus."
Then he drank the potion.
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