Storm-Tossed, Flames Rising

The Gryffindor Common Room fell silent.

Seamus, who was playing cards, stared in horror at the Exploding Snap in his hand. The young wizard beside him discreetly moved away from him.

Percy hurried over to greet her, "Professor McGonagall, is there anything I can help you with so late?"

"I have an urgent message for Wood about tomorrow's Quidditch Match ..." Professor McGonagall looked serious, glancing around the lounge with a slight frown. "Could you please call Lomberton for me? I can't find him."

"Yes, Professor." Percy nodded, beckoned to Wood, and while Wood was talking to Professor McGonagall, he quickly ran to the window and brought Neville was standing there in a daze, over.

Wood whispered a few words to Professor McGonagall, and his expression turned somewhat grim, as if he had learned some bad news.

As Neville hurriedly followed Professor McGonagall out of the Common Room, Seamus's Exploding Snap exploded, breaking the brief silence.

The Quidditch team members swarmed around them. "What happened?"

"Yes, Oliver, tell us quickly."

Wood opened his mouth, then spoke with some difficulty, "The school has restricted the brooms used in Quidditch Match; Firebolt are no longer allowed?"

The sudden change of brooms on the eve of the match startled Harry, who then became nervous. He asked, "In that case, what model of broom is the school's standard?"

"Nimbus 2000".

Upon hearing this, the team members relaxed and said with smiles, "It's okay, overall we're not at a disadvantage."

"And Hufflepuff certainly won't adapt to the new broom either; everyone's Qidian is the same."

"..."

Watching the team chattering away about tactics, Hermione, having finished her homework, turned slightly to look at Loren: "What do you think Professor McGonagall wanted with Neville?"

Loren glanced out the window; it was dark outside, and the wind howled through the closed glass, reaching his ears as a faint whistling sound.

He whispered, "For the coming lightning."

In the Wizarding World, it is a consensus among many wizards that some Pure-blood Families are constantly declining and dying out.

Countless years ago, the Peverell brothers defeated Death and became famous in the Wizarding World with the Deathly Hallows, etching the Peverell name into legends that have been passed down through the ages.

Sadly, while their bloodline may still remain, the Peverell family has perished.

In the last century, the Gaunt family, who claimed to be of Slytherin blood, saw their patriarch, Gaunt Marvolo, imprisoned for crimes including assaulting Ministry of Magic officials and making arrests. Tortured by Dementors, his health was ruined, and he died shortly after his release from Azkaban. His son, Morfin Gaunt, murdered Muggles and died while serving his sentence in Azkaban...

Some experienced old wizards had heard that the Gaunt family had a daughter, but they hadn't heard from her for many years and assumed she was probably dead.

The Gaunt family thus came to an end.

The most frequently mentioned person in the Leaky Cauldron is Mr. Crouch, the current Department of International Magical Cooperation at the Ministry of Magic. His son was a Death Eater who died while serving time in Azkaban. Old Mr. Crouch was a devoted man; after his wife's death, he had no intention of remarrying.

"The Crouch family is probably doomed..." the tavern patrons said.

Besides these, the Longbottom family has also been the subject of much discussion.

The once-famous Aurors couple were driven mad by their child's Muggle-born... Out of respect for Mrs. Longbottom, Headmaster Dumbledore allowed the child to attend Hogwarts.

Many well-informed people believe that the Longbottom family is declining and that the Lomberton may soon disappear as well.

This view has recently been overturned.

The two valiant Aurors, the legendary Lumbard couple, recovered and were discharged from the hospital. In less than six months, they captured more than a dozen wanted criminals and brought several Death Eater had escaped trial back to the Courtroom. Among the dark wizards, their reputation was almost on par with Mad-Eye —although this was partly due to his retirement.

Even more surprisingly, according to the students during Hogwarts summer vacation, the Longbottom family boy was not only not Muggle-born, but was also particularly skilled in dueling...

After graduation, he will most likely become a tough character like his parents.

In the howling wind of the night, Neville followed Professor McGonagall slowly and laboriously toward the Edge of the Forbidden Forest, preparing to drink the Secret Potion and begin the Animagus Transfiguration ritual when the first thunderclap resounded through the sky.

The wind was so strong that Neville was swaying and struggling to walk. Professor McGonagall waved her wand, and a light, shimmering shield enveloped the two of them, keeping the howling wind at bay.

Professor McGonagall took Neville's hand and led him slowly toward the Edge of the Forbidden Forest the Secret Potion was buried.

With her extensive experience and profound knowledge, Minerva McGonagall herself is an Animagus. After organizing her research from last year and publishing several articles on Human Transfiguration, it is no exaggeration to say that she is one of the top Animagus experts in the Wizarding World today.

Professor McGonagall knew that tonight's ceremony would most likely fail, but she was still willing to try with her students, especially this boy named Neville.

Holding Mandrake Leaf in one's mouth, burying Secret Potion, chanting a spell towards one's heart morning and night, and waiting for the right weather... Animagus is indeed a very troublesome kind of magic. In this era, there are only 7 registered Animagus in the Ministry of Magic. If you include those scattered unofficial personnel, you can count them on two hands.

In short, this is a very difficult task. Since the opening of the Animagus class at Hogwarts, Granger, who was first in his year, Morgan, who was also first in his year, the proud Pure-blood of Slytherin, Ravenclaw have all failed.

Only Neville made it to this point.

In many people's eyes, Neville Lomberton is not a bright student, his magical talent is not top-notch, he is not good at Quidditch, he has little athletic talent, and he is introverted and dull... But in the eyes of several professors, Neville is a perfect student. He does not crave power, he works diligently on the task at hand, and tries his best to grasp what he can grasp.

In Professor McGonagall's view, although Neville usually spoke softly and even stuttered when nervous, appearing timid, he had shown true courage, the courage of Gryffindor.

Upon arriving at the place where the Secret Potion was buried, although it hadn't rained yet, the air was already filled with moisture, making it damp and giving Professor McGonagall the urge to wash her face.

Professor McGonagall looked up at the clouds in the sky, silently calculating the time in her mind. Noticing that Neville beside her was trembling slightly, she waved her wand, spitting out several bright blue flames that floated around the two of them.

A warm feeling came from the firelight. Neville wanted to tell the professor that he wasn't cold, but just too nervous, but he couldn't bring himself to say it.

"Neville, do you recite the incantation into your heart every day?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"Um."

"Did you hear a second heartbeat?"

"..."

Neville nodded, then shook his head, looking unsure.

The patient professor didn't mind and began to gently give some instructions on precautions during the Transfiguration process, including body shape, wildness and rationality...

Professor McGonagall sniffed the moisture in the air and suddenly warned, "Watch out, a storm is coming."

Neville pricked up his ears, waiting for the impending thunder, his eyes fixed on the marker where the Secret Potion was buried, mentally planning his next move.

The light flashed and disappeared in an instant, briefly illuminating the world shrouded in darkness, followed by a deafening roar that echoed through the sky.

Neville quickly dug a bottle of blood-red Potions from under the tree roots, gripped his wand in his right hand and pressed it against his heart, feeling his heart pounding like a drum. Neville took a deep breath and chanted, "Amador, Animor, Animador, Animagus."

Neville heard another sound in his anxious heartbeat, a heavy, drum-like thumping heartbeat mixed with small drumbeats, pounding incessantly.

Starting from the heart, a tearing pain gradually spread throughout the body. One second, every inch of skin was swelling and cracking; the next second, the cracked skin became taut and contracted continuously, as if it were going to crush the muscles and bones beneath the skin.

Neville felt a force squeezing his bones, as if trying to mold them into mud and then shape them into something else.

Dark brown fur grew from the cracks in its skin, dividing into two colors from the top of its head: dark brown in the front and grayish-white in the back, making it impossible to tell what kind of animal it was... Its teeth became thinner and longer, while its body gradually shrank.

Large raindrops fell, pattering against the leaves of the bushes and grass.

Professor McGonagall observed Neville silently, without uttering a word, her eyes revealing no joy. His robes remained unchanged, meaning the Transfiguration had failed.

Sure enough, just as Neville was enduring the pain while joyfully observing the changes in his body, the Transfiguration suddenly stopped. His hair retracted inch by inch, and his fangs gradually returned to their original shape...

A few minutes later, Neville, soaked to the bone, collapsed in the mud. His clothes clung to his skin, the cold raindrops easing the burning pain. Every bone ached, and his body instinctively wanted to lie down and not move a finger.

But Neville still struggled to get up, splashing a few drops of water in the mud.

Professor McGonagall knelt down, her thin but warm hand gently stroking his forehead, and said softly, "Neville, you've done very well."

Neville managed a weak smile, his consciousness gradually fading.

In the Gryffindor boys' dormitory, a faint candlelight still shone.

On the table sat a recently opened candy gift bag, its brightly colored wrapping paper torn to shreds, leaving a mess.

In the Library of the Fantasy Book, Loren, whose wand tip spewed flames, swung his arm in an attempt to stop the incessant Fiendfyre, but to no avail; instead, he only fueled the flames.

A torrent of flames sprayed onto the bookshelf, instantly spreading across the entire shelf and bursting forth with intense heat and light. A huge ball of fire surged and churned, and a Ashwinder as thick as a bucket emerged from the fireball and crawled along the adjacent bookshelf...

This scene repeated itself, and soon the Fiendfyre enveloped the entire Library. Countless Ashwinder and pythons merged together, intertwined and coiled, and merged into a hydra that spewed flames, roaring and howling as it charged straight at Loren.

Loren trembled in fright, casually tossing his wand into the fire. With a wave of his hand, the raging inferno vanished, and the Library returned to normal.

Flamel, who was standing to the side, twitched his eye and said quietly, "If this were Hogwarts Castle, you would have burned the entire school to death."

Loren chuckled twice and scratched his head, "Why do I feel like I'm getting better and better at setting fires, but I haven't made any progress in extinguishing and controlling flames?"

"Because the magic of Fiendfyre itself cannot be controlled or extinguished," Flamel said calmly. "Your talent can only make Fiendfyre more powerful. To stop Fiendfyre from spreading, you can only stop the magic and use a counterspell or a finishing spell."

"You sound very experienced," Loren said.

Flamel's expression froze for a moment, then he turned around, waved, and disappeared from the spot, seemingly too lazy to pay him any attention.

"Uncontrollable..."

Loren recalled the giant Ashwinder, the fiery hydra, and the earth-shattering waves of fire he had just witnessed, his eyes blazing with fury.

In the dormitory, Harry, Ron, and Seamus leaned against the headboard, half-lying on the bed, covered with soft, warm blankets, munching on snacks and glancing at the door every now and then.

Seeing that the room was too quiet, Seamus asked in a low voice, "Do you think Neville can succeed?"

"Didn't you say you didn't want to learn Animagus? Why are you concerned about this?"

Ron, who was playing chess under the covers, ate another of his pieces, threw a Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans into his mouth, and then his face contorted in disgust. He rolled around on the bed because of the sour taste and eventually tumbled off the bed.

His nose and eyebrows were sore and crooked, but no one paid any attention to him.

"I still want to learn, but it's too much trouble..." Seamus muttered softly, "Besides, I'm concerned about Neville."

"That's really troublesome." Harry smacked his lips against the Mandrake Leaf and sighed. "There's a good chance I'll damage the leaf during tomorrow's match."

Loren, who had been resting with his eyes closed, suddenly raised his head and whispered a reminder: "You're back."

As soon as he finished speaking, the dormitory door was pushed open, and Neville, soaked to the bone and utterly exhausted, dragged his way in, bringing with him a chilling aura.

Seeing his appearance, Loren and the others guessed the outcome.

The words of congratulations that had been prepared for so long could not be uttered, and words of comfort lingered on the tip of her tongue, but she was worried that they would upset Neville, who had just experienced failure. The dormitory fell silent for a moment.

"Ah--"

Loren stretched lazily and said in a languid tone, "The Teaching Class is about to recruit new students. Neville, you'll have to go up on stage and share your experience as a pioneer."

After changing into his yukata, Neville subconsciously imagined that scene and nervously shook his head.

"Tsk." Loren shook his head. "You're the one among us who's closest to success. Even if Professor McGonagall doesn't let you go on stage, the others will keep pestering you for answers, Mr. Longbottom."

"I... I'm going to take a shower first," Neville said somewhat flusteredly, and ran into the bathroom as if he were escaping.

Harry, Neville, and the others tilted their heads, somewhat puzzled, unable to understand how Loren had managed to pull Neville out of his dejection with just a few simple words.

After rehearsing his remarks about sharing his experience while taking a shower, Neville slowly emerged from the shower.

However, his roommates didn't ask about his Animagus experience; instead, they smiled and waved to him, saying, "Come and try the new Bertie Bott's Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, Ron loves them."

Ron's expression twisted with disgust, but he still nodded. "Yes, yes, yes, you should also bring some for Hannah to eat while watching the game tomorrow. She happens to be from Hufflepuff, so it would be best if the team members could try some."

"Poisoning before the match, huh?"

"Ha ha ha ha..."

Amidst cheerful laughter, Neville walked over to sample the candy with his roommates, not caring that he had already brushed his teeth.