Leaky Hagrid

Compared to the traditional Animagus, the Animagus that Wizet is currently performing is more explicit and profound in terms of the meaning and function of each step.

This is no longer Ritual Magic that follows past experience, but a structured magical experiment.

Both Filius Flitwick and McGonagall wanted to witness all of this, record the entire process, and make ample preparations for their subsequent papers.

Of course, the groundbreaking nature of this experiment also means that it is not only dangerous, but also has unpredictable uncertainties.

The arrival of Dumbledore and Snape was intended to minimize this uncertainty as much as possible.

Snape stepped forward, took out his wand, pointed it at the Mandrake leaf, and waved it gently.

Filius Flitwick craned his neck and stood on tiptoe, his face showing a hint of seriousness.

McGonagall had a similar solemn expression, adjusted her glasses, and rested her fingers on the frame.

Snape used his magic to detect the medicinal properties of the Mandrake leaf.

Emerald light shimmered across the leaves, verifying whether the desired effect had been achieved and whether any potential problems existed.

"Interesting, continue." Snape left those two words behind and departed the hunting grounds without lingering.

After hearing this, McGonagall's expression returned to normal, and she lowered her hand from her glasses.

Filius Flitwick landed on his feet, twisted his neck slightly, and his beard twitched merrily twice.

Watching Wizet bury the bottle in the ground, the professors left together.

"Albus, this is a good location," Professor McGonagall praised. "Hagrid can also help keep an eye on things, so it won't be so easily affected."

"Really? It's quite a large area, a really nice place!" Dumbledore stroked his beard.

"Now we just have to wait for the storm. I wonder... how well Wizet has mastered the Weather Charm?"

Filius Flitwick said calmly, "Wizet has great talent. He has already mastered the Sunny Skies Charm and the Drizzle Charm, but their range is not very large."

"It just means he needs to practice more to get used to the feeling of casting spells. I'm not worried about that at all. Wizet is so self-disciplined that sometimes I feel tired for him."

McGonagall and Dumbledore nodded, expressing their strong agreement with these words.

Hagrid watched Dumbledore and the others leave, then leaned close to Wizet and said, "So you're also planning to learn from the Animagus?"

Hearing this, Wizet asked curiously, "... someone else planted Potions here before? Was it also an Animagus technique?"

"Oh! The running Gorgons!" Hagrid shouted, shaking his head, and reached out to cover his mouth.

His eyes Winky like black beetles for a moment, then he lowered his hands with a hint of helplessness, stirring up a gentle breeze.

Hagrid crouched down next to Wizet and purred softly, "It's okay to tell you, but you can't tell Harry and the others."

"Of course!" Wizet nodded.

Actually, he was more worried about Hagrid letting something slip than about himself.

This kind of thing actually happened several times last school year.

Harry had spoken to Wizet about the Philosopher's Stone several times, at least.

Harry and his friends were so certain because their information came from Hagrid, and they trusted Hagrid completely.

Hagrid is indeed a trustworthy person, but he's not very discreet.

The key point is that he didn't intentionally reveal the secret; it just slipped out unintentionally.

This situation might be related to Hagrid's personality; he's outspoken and can't keep secrets...

As Wizet walked up the Moving Staircase, she said, "Hagrid, can you tell me the whole story? That way I can better avoid it."

"I wish I were as perceptive as you," Hagrid sighed. "It's nothing really... it's just that the place we're going to is actually James's secret warehouse."

"Oh! You probably don't know James, do you? He's Harry's father...a very good wizard, and a really nice guy... Lily too, she's Harry's mother."

Wizet was somewhat surprised. "Since it's Harry's father's secret, why can't we tell Harry?"

"The reason is a bit complicated, and I don't know how to explain it..." Hagrid scratched his head, looking somewhat troubled. "It might be because of James and the others... they..."

He racked his brains trying to figure out how to describe it. "Likes to do dangerous things? Harry suffered too much when he was a little kid. He can't be as reckless as James and the others."

"Is it going to be a hassle?" For some reason, Wizet muttered to himself, feeling a sense of déjà vu, which reminded him of Fred and George.

"Yes!" Hagrid chuckled, counting on his fingers, "James, Sirius Black, Lupin, and... oh! Peter!"

"Those four are very close! They sometimes come to the Forbidden Forest to see me, just like you guys do. But they're much more mischievous and like to sneak into the Forbidden Forest."

"That's right! Harry really does resemble James quite a bit, Hermione and Lupin are a bit alike, and Ron... they all look quite similar too. What a wonderful coincidence!"

He seemed to have been holding back his words for a long time, reminiscing about the past the whole way, lamenting just how oppressive the era of fighting Voldemort must have been.

"It feels so much better to have said it all!" Hagrid exhaled. "I haven't talked to anyone about my past in so long, let alone so much!"

"Wizet, wouldn't it be wonderful if there were a lock that could lock away my memories? You mean, how do you describe it?"

"It's that feeling... the memories are still in my head, but it prevents me from letting something slip, like a reminder... Yes! That's it!"

"Lock up the memories?" Wizet murmured, pondering Hagrid's idea.

"This is a very high-level Mental Magic, isn't it?" Hagrid chuckled, pointing to a painting in front of him. "This is it, we've arrived!"

The painting depicts a scene that Wizet is very familiar with—a drum set.

"Let me think... how should I knock?" Hagrid scratched his head, his thick beard covering his furrowed brows.

thump thump...

Wizet picked up her wand and began rhythmically striking the drums.

"Yes! That's the rhythm!" Hagrid slapped his forehead, his voice booming like thunder, echoing down the corridor.

"How did you know?" he asked in surprise. "You've been here before?"

Wizet nodded. "Someone brought me here before."

The drum kit was transformed into a narrow wooden door, which, with the help of magic, even Hagrid, whose size was enormous, could barely squeeze through.

It was just a short walkway behind the wooden door, Hagrid was having some difficulty walking through it.

He needed to take a deep breath to barely move his body sideways and slowly cross the aisle.

When he finally managed to enter the secret room, he gasped in disbelief, "Hiss! A charging Gorgon! Here... here... it's empty?"