Who Could Refuse to Become a Kitty?

For Gryffindor students, the hardest class was Professor Snape's Potions Class.

For Slytherins, however, the most difficult class was Transfiguration, taught by Gryffindor Head of House Professor McGonagall.

Like Professor Weasley before her, Professor McGonagall was fair and strict. She treated students no differently just because she taught a house other than her own.

Glenn thought that was an excellent quality.

By contrast, Professor Snape's blatant bias was actually unbecoming of a teacher.

For some reason, whenever Harry was involved, the professor paid especially close attention.

In class, it seemed that every few sentences he would bring up Harry and make him stand to answer a question.

There was nothing wrong with that in itself. After all, teachers had the right to call on their students... It was just that he did it a little too often.

But Glenn remembered what Harry had told him on the night they first came to Hogwarts: he had always felt that Professor Snape was watching him.

Glenn had also noticed that if Professor McGonagall hadn't interrupted, Professor Snape would have brought Harry up while discussing discipline...

Did Professor Snape really hate someone for no reason after meeting them just once? Or did he hate students who were famous?

Glenn wasn't so sure.

But leaving the professors aside for the moment—

As students, they first needed to figure out where their Transfiguration teacher had gone.

"Ah-ha, Professor McGonagall is late. Maybe we won't have to have class," Malfoy said loudly to Goyle and Crabbe behind him. "Maybe we should report this to the headmaster..."

Glenn glanced at the clock in the classroom.

It wasn't time for class yet, so she wasn't late.

It was just that Professor McGonagall had always come to the classroom early before, and nobody knew exactly when she arrived.

All they knew was that every student who was first to arrive received an approving look from her.

A punctual professor like that had actually been late?

Could something have happened? Glenn wondered.

If so, they really would have to report it to Dumbledore...

But before he could think any further, several Slytherin girls in the classroom suddenly shrieked.

"Ah! There's a cat in the classroom!"

Following their gaze, they saw a silver tabby cat.

It was pacing elegantly across the teacher's desk.

Distinct stripes ringed its eyes, just like the square-framed glasses Professor McGonagall usually wore.

"Well, I suppose we don't need to ask who the cat's owner is," Blaise said with a shrug. "I never knew Professor McGonagall had such a sense of humor. She knew she wouldn't be able to get here early this time, so she sent a cat to teach us instead."

Most of the boys scoffed at the idea, but the girls thought it was rather amusing.

They all went up to have a look at the unexpected visitor.

"Her fur is so sleek and soft. I imagine Professor McGonagall must have spent a lot of time caring for her, but why haven't I heard that she had a cat?" asked Daphne Greengrass, sounding surprised.

Pansy Parkinson, standing beside her, snorted. "She's nothing special, really. Honestly, she's not as cute as my cat. Even Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat, is cuter than her. At least Mrs. Norris doesn't have stripes on her face that look like those old-fashioned square glasses..."

The "Mrs. Norris" she spoke of was a dark-gray, scrawny old cat owned by Filch, practically skin and bones. Her favorite thing to do was wander around Hogwarts Castle.

Whenever she caught a student breaking the rules, she would use her remarkable speed to run off and inform Filch, the caretaker.

Rather than call her a pet, students preferred to describe the unpopular cat as "Filch's spy."

Slytherins, however, didn't dislike her as much as students from the other houses did—Mrs. Norris often caught Gryffindors sneaking out at night to go on adventures.

"Speaking of which, Mrs. Norris seems to be looking for a mate lately... Is this one a tomcat or a queen..." As she spoke, Pansy reached out, intending to find out for herself.

But in the next instant, her pupils narrowed and her face turned deathly pale. She snatched her hand back as quick as lightning.

There was no cat on the teacher's desk.

Only Professor McGonagall, standing behind it.

Her expression was stern. "Miss Parkinson, I think this will be an excellent lesson—one that teaches you not to let your guard down around an animal you don't recognize."

At this, the Slytherins hurried back to their seats, not daring to say another word.

Professor McGonagall didn't scold them for the slight affront. As she saw it, it was all part of the lesson.

"As I've said before, Transfiguration is the most complex and dangerous subject you'll study at Hogwarts." Professor McGonagall surveyed the students, who were now sitting up straight.

"There is a certain kind of wizard who, through long-term, advanced, and systematic training, can freely and reversibly switch between human form and one fixed animal form, without outside assistance or a wand forcing the transformation, and without any physical side effects. We call them—Animagi."

As she finished, whispers spread through the classroom.

Clearly, the idea was simply too fascinating for children around ten years old.

Who could refuse the chance to turn into an adorable kitty whenever they wanted?

Ahem, it was just a joke. Not everyone wanted to become a kitty.

For example, a hundred years ago, many members of the Ashwinder Party were Animagi. Most chose to turn into agile, aggressive beasts like wolves, tigers, and leopards.

Glenn didn't dislike that, though.

After all, he could turn them into spiders while they were in animal form, then drag them underfoot and crush them without a shred of guilt.

It wasn't very hygienic, but it was an effective way to intimidate people. Any Ashwinder Party member who saw it would shriek and scatter.

But Glenn wasn't the sort of dark wizard who enjoyed frightening people, and he didn't want them scattering, either.

So he preferred turning them into powder kegs and tossing them out. One explosion could take care of a whole bunch at once.

Glenn called it efficient.

At the front of the classroom, Professor McGonagall continued teaching, though the rest was all theory.

"At present, the most advanced Animagus training in the world is found at Wagadu School of Magic in Uganda. According to Professor Dumbledore, they select a number of talented students for specialized training..."

Well, there was another familiar name—Wagadu School of Magic.

Glenn looked out the window, his thoughts drifting back a hundred years.

As mentioned earlier, he had once wiped out the Ashwinder Party, then the largest organization of dark wizards.

But in truth, he hadn't accomplished that feat alone.

Along with those who dared to fight back, there was also a brave Gryffindor who stood up for what was right, named Nacha Onai.

But because her name was a bit of a mouthful, people preferred to call her Nana.

She was a transfer student who had moved from Uagadou School of Magic to Hogwarts.

Even before Glenn transferred in, she had been working to bring down the Ashwinder Party.

As a student, she had received death threats more than once and had nearly been killed several times. Even her mother had chosen to lock her up, telling her not to meddle in things that didn't concern her...

It was hard to imagine how she'd managed to persevere under that kind of pressure from both outside and within her own family...

Maybe that was the courage of a Gryffindor.

It was worth mentioning that Professor McGonagall was right: Uagadou School of Magic really did have highly advanced Animagus training.

When Glenn first learned about Animagi, Nana had pointed them out to him—back then, he'd nearly been ambushed by a wolf that was actually an Ashwinder Party member...

"Will we learn how to become Animagi later?" Daphne asked wistfully.

"No, Miss Greengrass. Hogwarts does not teach any practical methods for becoming an Animagus. I'm merely reminding you that such people exist in the world," Professor McGonagall said firmly.

"Becoming an Animagus is extremely dangerous. You have to endure many frightening experiences and undergo complicated rituals that you can hardly imagine..."

"For these reasons, only seven Animagi are officially registered in the entire British wizarding world!"

Professor McGonagall's words poured cold water over the students' excitement.

Some of their elders had indeed told them that becoming an Animagus wasn't a good thing.

They didn't know why, though, because those elders had only heard it from their own elders. All that had been passed down was one sentence: becoming an Animagus could very well bring misfortune.

As the students sighed, Glenn turned his attention from the window back to the classroom. After hearing Professor McGonagall's words, he looked surprised.

"Only seven left?"

That couldn't be right. When he'd traveled all over Britain, he'd come across one every few steps!