Stay Away from Transfiguration, and You'll Be Unhappy

The once vibrant green leaves turned withered and shriveled in the blink of an eye, falling weakly from the branches and landing silently in the snowdrifts.

Voldemort's parasitic body became fuller, the short, stout middle-aged man's skin became plumper, his cheeks gained more color, and his skin was no longer the eerie, deathly white.

Bellatrix Lestrange, head bowed, caught a glimpse of a Snakewood leaf drifting into the snowdrift and couldn't help but think about the origins of this Snake Tree.

Salazar Slytherin's wand was made by him himself, Snakewood Material, with a core of Basilisk horn.

That legendary wand could enter a dormant state upon receiving a special command, a feature Slytherin had programmed into its creation. After Slytherin's death, the wand was passed down to his children. By the early 17th century, it had become a family heirloom of the Gaunt family.

In 1620, Isolt Thayer, the Gaunt family niece, stole the wand from her aunt Gomley Gaunt and arrived here aboard the Mayflower to establish the Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Soon after, Gomley discovered Isolt's whereabouts and came to United States to kill her... Although Gomley failed, the Snakewood Wand went into hibernation under Gomley's Parselmouth command.

Because Isolt couldn't speak Parselmouth, she couldn't restore the wand's power... so she and her husband James Stewart, buried the wand in the ground outside the school.

A year later, an unknown Snakewood grew at the site where the wand was buried, which could not be cut down or destroyed. Later still, people discovered that the leaves of this tree had powerful healing properties.

Centuries later, the Dark Lord, a descendant of Slytherin, came here and received the gift of the Snakewood... It's hard not to believe that all of this was the result of the great Slytherin's long ago.

Thinking of this, Bellatrix became even more fanatical and devout. She buried her head in the snow and confessed fervently, "Please punish me, great Dark Lord, for I have lost your Golden Cup."

Voldemort's expression turned grim, and he stopped clearing the snow from the Snakewood. Wormtail Peter's small eyes were replaced by cold, vertical pupils, radiating a terrifying gaze like those of a venomous snake.

"The Diary, the Diadem, the Golden Cup..." Voldemort murmured softly, his voice only audible to himself and the Snakewood, before quickly dissipating in the cold wind. He turned to look at his loyal servant and said softly, "It's not your fault. When I sent you to retrieve the Golden Cup, I already anticipated this outcome."

"Master..." Bellatrix was somewhat surprised.

"On the contrary, you have brought me good news..." Voldemort chuckled sinisterly, "You have assured me that in Hogwarts Castle, beside Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard in the Wizarding World today, there is an excellent Potions Master who is loyal to me."

"You mean Snape ..." Bellatrix, somewhat puzzled. "I thought the Hufflepuff's Goblet was more important..."

"The Golden Cup is important, of course, but our friend can play an even more unexpected role..." Voldemort's voice trailed off, as if he were pondering something. He then stopped there, ordering, "Go and fetch some Galleon, exchange them for food and clothing, and send them to the Werewolf community..."

He chuckled softly. "It's already quite cold. Those guys are probably huddled in their basement, shivering and trying to keep warm."

"As you command..." Bellatrix replied, but after standing up, she didn't leave immediately. After a few seconds of hesitation, she couldn't help but ask, "Why are we helping those guys? They've already eaten almost half of the Galleon that Malfoy offered..."

And their numbers are increasing rapidly; at this rate, we'll run out of Galleon by next summer.

Voldemort slowly raised his head and gazed into the distance, saying unhurriedly, "Do you know Inferi is?"

Bellatrix paused for a moment, "Inferi?"

The wind and snow continued to howl Mount Greylock, and the gloomy fog had been gradually thickening in recent days. However, the golden sun still pierced through the thick clouds and mist, painting the mountaintop with a brilliant golden hue.

Her long eyelashes trembled slightly.

Her bright eyes blinked and opened, her confused brown eyes gradually finding focus and becoming clear.

Hermione didn't get up immediately upon waking. Instead, she sorted through the jumbled thoughts that had swirled in her mind before bed the night before: about the House-elf Hokey, about Voldemort's Horcrux...

There were scattered footsteps outside the bedroom, along with the sounds of Mom and Dad talking; they seemed to be discussing in hushed tones what movie they were going to see that day.

Hermione sniffed lightly, and could smell the aroma of bread and milk.

She slowly got up, washed up, went downstairs, and came to the dining table. In a lazy voice, she greeted them, "Good morning, Mom and Dad..."

"Good morning, my dear!" Wendell called out loudly, his voice loud enough to shake the girl from her lingering sleepiness. "Miss Granger Hermione Granger, I have something very important to tell you!"

Hermione sat down on the stool, took the bread Monica handed her, and looked at her father with a helpless expression. "What is it?"

"Your mother and I have decided to go to the movies... and have a day off for just the two of you. You stay home."

"Haven't you two spent enough time dating?" Hermione glanced at Monica, mimicking Loren's pitiful expression, "Mom, are you going to abandon me too?"

Monica rolled her eyes at her and ignored her.

My daughter is cheerful, but she tends to be a little too cheerful.

After breakfast, and seeing her parents, who were dressed rather extravagantly, off, Hermione returned to her bedroom, picked up her wand, and waved it.

Bang--

With a loud popping sound, the girl's figure disappeared from the spot.

The layout of the Loren family's house is the same as that of the Granger house. Loren's bedroom is also very similar to Hermione's bedroom. There are several handmade drawings that Hermione made when she was a child hanging on the wall. The desk is by the window, and there is a movable wooden board in the window for the Hānhan to come and go.

But the Hānhan owl hasn't returned from its night roaming yet, and there's no sign of the owl in the bedroom.

Crooked up beside the pillow, Crookshanks looked like a turmeric-colored cushion. His turmeric-colored Hairball twitched, blinked a few times until it narrowed its eyes to slits, and then tilted its head slightly to meow at Hermione: "Meow..."

Then it stretched out its front paw and pointed behind it. Hermione followed the paw and saw a pure white long-haired lion cat lying on its back like a human, with one paw sticking out from the top of its head, revealing fluffy and soft neck fur. It was very beautiful, and its pink nose trembled slightly, as if it was fast asleep.

Seeing that familiar sleeping posture, Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. "This is... Loren?"

Crookshanks nodded and then let out a soft "meow".

Hermione paused for a moment, her mind a jumble of thoughts churning. Aside from unimportant ideas like Animagus and Fairy Morgan, a strange sense of smugness inexplicably rose within her.

She tried to purse her lips and suppress the smile at the corners of her mouth, but the curve of her lips still grew wider and wider.

Hermione didn't make a sound. Instead, she knelt down by the bedside, carefully lifted Crookshanks off the bed, gently patted its little head to signal it to be quiet, and carefully examined the long-haired lion cat with a smile in her eyes.

It was already bright outside, and the curtains blocked out the glare. Grandpa Bates called out something from outside, Hermione didn't hear it. Later, Mr. Bates drove off, his bright eyes gazing at her for what seemed like an eternity.

Crookshanks lay curled up on the carpet under the bed, motionless.

After an unknown amount of time, Hermione's smile grew wider and wider. With an eager look in her eyes, she reached out and gently tapped the cat Loren's pink nose with her finger.

It's moist and a little cool, but very soft.

The long-haired lion cat smacked its lips, subconsciously stuck out its pink little tongue to lick its nose, and then fell back into a sweet sleep.

Hermione grinned, then pursed her lips.

Around noon, the long-haired lion cat showed signs of waking up.

He lay on his back, his four little paws stretched out, his pink paw pads blooming like plum blossoms, his tiny nails peeking out from between his fingers, and the lion cat's lips parted slightly, making a purring sound.

Finally, Loren opened his eyes.

It was a pair of beautiful heterochromatic eyes; the left eye was a deep black, and the right was a pure sapphire blue, so clear it seemed to drip with water. The lion cat's eyes revealed a human-like bewilderment. Cats' static vision is somewhat worse than humans', and their colors are also more muted. It took him a while to recognize the giant before him as Hermione.

Loren was somewhat startled and asked, "Meow? (What's going on?)"

He was even more frightened and suddenly jumped out of bed, but because he was not used to his new body, he fell onto the pillow.

Although she couldn't understand cat language, Hermione had already guessed his question. She smiled and reached out to hug Loren, then sat up on the edge of the bed, laid the lion cat back on her lap, and gently scratched his chin with her fingers, patiently comforting him, "Don't worry, little kitty, think about what happened last night..."

His heightened sense of smell allowed Loren to smell the girl's fragrance.

Slender, fair fingers brushed across my chin, a tingling, ticklish sensation that felt even better than a massage.

Driven by the cat's instincts, Loren subconsciously rubbed against it, then realized what was happening and awkwardly turned his chin away.

But Hermione's fingers followed relentlessly, even freeing one hand to knead his stomach and abdomen.

Humans have a lower body temperature than cats, and fingers, being the distal end of the body, are even colder. When something icy cold brushed against the cat's belly, Loren felt hot all over, as if his head was about to explode.

"Meow!"

Struggling, he rolled over, pounced onto the blanket, and arched his back in a wary stance.

Hermione's eyes sparkled as she asked, feigning distress, "Do you want to scratch me?"

"..."

Realizing he couldn't hurt Hermione, the lion cat relaxed his guard and curled up into a ball, the poor cat Loren trying to protect himself from being harmed.

Hermione watched as Loren curled up into a white cat ball, her smile growing even brighter. However, she wasn't completely lost in petting the cat and lost her senses. She coughed lightly and composed herself, saying, "Don't rush, Loren. Think carefully about what happened last night."

Loren thought carefully, and memories of last night gradually surfaced in his mind: the Transfiguration exploration before falling asleep, the strange dreams after falling asleep...

"Meow!" The lion cat's meow was tinged with grief and indignation.

That wretched Mrs. Dursley, that wretched Fairy Morgan, only telling half the story, and making such a strange way of unlocking her talent, causing him to suffer this humiliation today!

Hermione didn't understand what he was trying to say, but that didn't stop her from responding. She slowly lowered her head and leaned closer to the fluffy little head, gently asking, "Can you turn back? Should I take you back to school to ask a professor for help?"

Loren focused his mind and sensed that there was a strange Magic Power in his body maintaining the Transfiguration, but the Magic Power was dissipating very quickly, and it should be able to turn back in half a day.

Hermione saw the lion cat tilt its head back, nod, and then shake its head, and she understood the meaning of those two gestures.

"You mean, I can turn back and don't need to go see the professor?"

The lion cat nodded.

Hermione pursed her lips, unable to suppress the smile on her face.

"Meow (Are you laughing at me?)!"

"I wasn't laughing..." Hermione explained with a grin.

"Meow!"

"Alright, alright, you just got up and haven't had breakfast yet..." Hermione scooped up the lion cat and hugged him tightly, walking towards the bedroom door with one arm around him and the other pushing it open. "Let's see what kind of breakfast we can prepare for the lion cat?"

Loren struggled unsteadily for a while, but was easily subdued because he was afraid of scratching Hermione with his claws.

A few minutes later, when Loren watched as Hermione poured warm milk into a shallow dish, trying to get him to lick the milk with his cat body, Loren finally couldn't hold back and slapped Hermione's hateful face several times.

But what power could a cat's little paw pads possibly have? Hermione only felt a tickle on her face. She chuckled and pressed down on the lion cat's front paws, pulling it into her arms and stroking its fur from its back to the tip of its tail, offering a rather insincere apology. "Don't be angry, don't be angry, I'll feed you, okay..."

Hermione picked up a spoon, scooped up some milk, and gently brought it to the lion cat's mouth. "Ah~"

Loren felt inexplicably ashamed and indignant, his lips tightly pressed together, unwilling to open.

"You can't just not eat, right? Maybe having more energy will help you recover faster..." Hermione patiently advised, but to Loren, her voice sounded like the devil's whisper. "Ah~"

Loren gradually relaxed his control over his jawbone, and the rich, smooth milk flowed into his stomach. The satisfaction brought by the food clashed with the awkwardness in his mind, and the kitten's eyes gradually became dull.