As more and more wrong answers were eliminated, Sirius became increasingly nervous.
This can't go on any longer.
Once all options are eliminated, the other party will definitely realize something is wrong.
He must escape immediately!
After leaving a "Goodbye" message on the ground, he quickly turned and left, disappearing into the darkness.
Yanhua turned to look at Morris and let out a chirp that sounded like a question.
Should we pursue them?
Morris shook his head.
"Forget it, we don't know their exact identity yet. It wouldn't be good if we offended them."
The Yanhua tilted its head, as if it thought its owner made sense.
The Guantou squatted to one side, its mind still a little dazed.
The clever creature has basically figured out the current situation.
His newly recruited follower... is a wizard?
And that wizard even ate its pet food.
They seemed to enjoy their meal quite a bit.
I suddenly felt cheated by the Guantou.
Human hearts are unpredictable... no, dogs are unpredictable!
Morris, of course, had no idea what his pet was thinking.
But who exactly is this Animagus?
He was somewhat curious.
The number of faculty and staff at Hogwarts is neither too many nor too few.
Since the other party admits to being a professor, the pool of candidates narrows down considerably.
Excluding women, those whose body types don't match, and those who obviously don't belong to the Animagus group...
He silently went through the list in his mind and found that none of them were right.
At that moment, Morris suddenly laughed.
He thought of a rather unusual name—the escaped convict who had broken out of Azkaban.
Thinking back, he realized he hadn't seen this black dog at all in the previous two years.
Such a conspicuous black dog, if it had stayed here for so long, it couldn't have left no trace.
So it must be a stray dog that arrived recently.
In addition, the Fat Lady was attacked on Halloween, and that a wild animal's claw mark was left on the portrait, is undoubtedly further evidence.
The other party's identity is almost certain— Sirius Black.
Oh dear, I've been fooled.
Morris shook his head.
He should have realized it sooner.
It's too late to say anything now, unless that black dog comes back on its own.
However, many questions remain.
What is Sirius's purpose here? Why did he become the Guantou's henchman? And why did he want to enter his Ship in a Bottle?
Morris fell into deep thought.
I can't understand it.
We'll probably only know for sure once they've caught them.
The next day, Morris told Professor McGonagall what he had seen and heard.
"You mean," Professor McGonagall's expression turned frighteningly serious, "That you encountered an Animagus by the Black Lake, and you suspect it was Black Sirius?"
"Yes, unless someone else at Hogwarts will be Animagus."
You're not kidding?
"Certainly."
Morris sat down opposite Professor McGonagall, smiled, and said, "When have I ever lied to you, Professor?"
For him, telling the professor about it was the better option.
This can be considered as making a contribution to Hogwarts.
Professor McGonagall stood up, her expression even more serious. "What does that Animagus look like? I need you to describe it in detail."
"A very big black dog," Morris thought for a moment and said, "Do you have any paper? I can draw it."
It's time to put my drawing skills to use again.
Professor McGonagall pulled a piece of parchment from her drawer and handed him a quill pen.
Morris took it and began to sketch on the parchment.
A few minutes later, a lifelike portrait of a black dog appeared on the parchment.
Professor McGonagall picked up the parchment and examined it carefully for a few seconds.
"Come with me," she said, "We're going to find the principal."
Dumbledore seemed to have guessed long ago that Sirius Black an Animagus.
He didn't say much, but simply ordered Professor McGonagall to post a picture of the dog on the bulletin board to raise awareness among all students and faculty.
Morris didn't think it was a good idea.
If it were him, he would prefer to act stealthily and find an opportunity to apprehend the other party in one fell swoop.
However, he is not the principal.
It's not his place to tell us how to do it.
He has done all he could.
After leaving the Headmaster's Office, Morris went straight to the Quidditch Pitch.
The sun was shining brightly, and the March breeze still carried a slight chill on my face.
The Quidditch Pitch is not far from the castle, only about a ten-minute walk away.
From afar, he could see several figures flying across the field.
The red jerseys belong to the Gryffindor players during training.
Harry Potter stood out the most because he rode Firebolt, making him significantly faster than the others.
A moment later, the Weasley Twins spotted Morris in the stands and flew down.
"What's wrong?" Fred asked.
He knew Morris; the other man wouldn't have come to watch Gryffindor training for no reason.
Just as Morris was about to answer, another figure flew down.
It's Wood, the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team.
"Don't slack off, Fred!" Wood yelled. "We still have two more practice sessions. Oh, hello, Morris, I don't see you."
"We're training five times a week now," George whispered to Morris. "It's insane."
Morris said to Wood, "Could you call Harry for me? I need him to test something. Don't worry, it won't take up too much of your time."
Wood gave him a suspicious look, but eventually nodded.
He turned and ran towards the field, shouting, " Harry! Come here!"
Harry was chasing the training Golden Snitch when he paused for a moment, then dove down and landed steadily on the edge of the stands.
The technology is undeniably excellent.
"What's wrong?" He looked at Morris, a hint of doubt in his eyes.
Morris did not answer, but opened his briefcase and pulled out a long, cloth-covered object.
"This is?"
Harry leaned closer curiously.
This shape looks familiar.
Sure enough, when Morris lifted the cloth, a flying broom was revealed.
It was just a style he had never seen before.
Its shape is somewhat like Firebolt, but it is simpler, without complicated accessories, and presents an overall pale silver color.
"Give me a try, Harry." Morris handed Harry the broom. "I guarantee it's faster than Firebolt."
Harry took the broom and paused for a moment.
Faster than Firebolt?
That's not just something you say casually.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"You'll see when you try." Morris took a step back.
At this moment, everyone on the field was drawn to it.
The Gryffindor team members landed near the stands, forming a circle and craning their necks to look at the strangely colored broom in Harry's hand.
Harry flipped himself onto the broom, gripped the handle, and floated up.
Just a few feet off the ground, his expression became somewhat subtle.
"Uh..." He shifted his body, "My butt feels a little uncomfortable."
The onlookers let out a good-natured laugh.
"I'll take that into consideration," Morris said. "Give it a try, you might be pleasantly surprised."
Without hesitation, Harry pushed off the ground and shot into the sky like a bullet, his speed so fast that everyone gasped.