Hogwarts: What bad intentions could a little Hufflepuff have?

A huge fiery-red bird was right beside him.

Perched on his bed...

"You... Fawkes?!"

Black instantly snapped awake.

Last night, he had drawn Ancient Magic.

Black had been so excited that it took him ages to fall asleep.

He had never expected to open his eyes in the morning and see Fawkes the phoenix.

Had Dumbledore come?

Black looked around his tiny room.

He did not find Dumbledore sitting in his chair.

Fawkes, however, cried out excitedly at him a few times.

Then he pulled a letter out from under the pillow with his beak.

Then he nudged it over to Black with his claws.

"Uh... are you delivering a letter to me?"

Only then did Black understand.

Fawkes had come to deliver a letter.

Fortunately, he had shut the doors and windows properly last night.

A phoenix could get in.

But other people could not.

Otherwise, it would be troublesome if someone saw Fawkes.

It was not as if he could tell Mrs. Marian outright.

That this was a Scottish Round-Faced Fat Chicken that just happened to be a tiny bit red, right?

Seeing Fawkes urging him on, Black had no choice but to open the letter.

And read it.

The signature handwriting in the letter, all loops within loops, was indeed Dumbledore's.

There was not much in the letter either.

He was only borrowing one thing from Black.

After reading it, Black took the tag from around his neck.

The nameplate, already completely repaired, gleamed with a metallic sheen

in the early-morning sunlight.

Fawkes patted Black's shoulder with his wing.

Then gave two affectionate cries.

Only then did he pick up Black's nameplate in his beak.

And vanish into the flames...

Black looked at the phoenix disappearing into the firelight.

He understood that Dumbledore must have found out something.

That was why he needed his nameplate as proof.

Still, it had only been one night.

Black was not in any hurry either.

After Fawkes left, the temperature in the room seemed to drop by several degrees.

Black opened the door and windows.

Seeing that it was still early, he then excitedly dashed toward the kitchen!

Dumbledore took the nameplate from Fawkes's beak.

At that moment.

On his desk.

All kinds of strange tools had already been laid out.

Most of them were related to alchemy.

After he set the nameplate on the desk.

A busy round of testing officially began.

"Hoot! Hoot!"

Mrs. Granger looked rather helplessly at the birdcage in her daughter's hands.

Inside the cage was an energetic owl.

Its noisy cries, along with its strange stench.

Were really a little...

Who knew what was going on?

Her precious daughter Hermione had started clamoring early in the morning to go to Diagon Alley again.

She said she wanted to buy an owl that could deliver letters.

When asked whom she wanted to write to.

Hermione only said there were some questions she did not understand.

And that she wanted to send a letter to ask a professor for guidance.

Mr. Granger, who doted on his daughter, had no choice but to go with her early in the morning.

They made another trip to Diagon Alley.

Then bought an owl and brought it back.

After Hermione returned home.

She did not even have time to change her shoes.

She rushed straight into her room barefoot.

She took the two letters she had already written.

And handed them directly to the newly bought owl.

The owl had not even been given a name yet.

"Deliver this letter to Professor McGonagall first! Then deliver this one to Black!"

Hermione had thought the order through very carefully.

Professor McGonagall would naturally have the school's owls to bring back a reply.

But Black did not have an owl.

She needed the owl to wait there while Black wrote his reply.

Then bring the reply back on the way.

"Hoot! Hoot!"

The owl had not expected that it would have to work the moment it was bought.

Still.

It had been shut in a cage for a long time too.

Delivering a letter.

Was just the thing to let it stretch its wings.

Watching the owl turn into a black dot in the sky.

Hermione recalled what had happened last night.

Right after she said goodbye to Black and Professor Dumbledore.

She had tried Transfiguration in her own room...

When she saw Black use Transfiguration to defeat that Niffler.

She had already been thinking of trying it herself.

Black had not known what magic was before.

He had only thought his magic power was some kind of superpower.

And yet he had been able to practice Transfiguration so well.

Then... she should be able to do it too!

But reality once again gave Hermione a heavy uppercut.

A boulder of that size.

In Black's hands.

Could instantly become a living, roaring lion.

And Black was casting without a wand.

While she...

Even with a wand.

She couldn't make even the slightest change to a tiny piece of stone...

In fact, yesterday, while Dumbledore and the others were taking her home.

She had asked about Transfiguration.

Black had said it as if it were nothing.

As long as you pictured what you wanted the thing to become in your mind.

Then the thing would become exactly that.

Dumbledore had agreed with Black's explanation.

But he was still the same as Professor McGonagall.

He told Hermione that Transfiguration was an advanced subject.

It required systematic training...

"Damn it! Then why doesn't Black need systematic training?!"

"He... figured it all out himself! And... and he doesn't even use a wand!"

Every time she thought of that.