It was Professor McGonagall knocking at the door. She held a blue-covered copy of Transfiguration Today, with the classic mouse goblet in the very center. The date marked it as the last issue before Christmas.
The moment they opened the door, Brian and Sprout both looked at her hair. This puzzled Professor McGonagall, and she unconsciously touched the back of her head before asking in some confusion:
"Is there... something wrong with my hair?"
Professor Sprout and Brian exchanged a look and found a little disappointment in each other's eyes-Professor McGonagall's hair was no different from usual.
Long, short, thick, thin-every strand had been sorted with frightening precision, neatly combed back together and wound into a bun. Its color, too, was a carefully maintained, glossy black.
Clearly, Professor McGonagall had not gained a thick head of lettuce-colored hair from the out-of-control Age Line.
Why was this Age Line playing favorites?
Perhaps the Age Line used the last of its magical power on me, Brian thought, resigned to his bad luck.
He shook his head and said with a smile:
"Minerva, nothing's wrong. Your hairstyle is as precise and elegant as ever-just like your Transfiguration. We simply thought we might see a livelier side of you, that's all.
"But actually, your outfit today is lively enough already."
Brian looked at the Muggle clothes Professor McGonagall was wearing that day and said, searching his memory:
"Is that... a Montrose Magpies team shirt?"
Indeed, unlike her unchanged hairstyle, Professor McGonagall was not wearing her usual checked wizard robe that day. Instead, she had put on a thick, pale green casual wool sweater.
Near the left breast was a lifelike black-and-white magpie, one foot resting on a slanting branch, poised to spread its wings and fly.
"Exactly right-the special supporters' edition for this year,