Mrs. Norris's ows grew closer.
On the suit of armour, the black cat sighed, a remarkably human gesture.
The Hufflepuffs were generally well-behaved, except for one particular prefect who was obsessed with magical creatures.
Sean decided it was best not to let a misunderstanding ruin the Christmas spirit for everyone.
Hannah and Sally-Anne stood frozen in fear. The black cat lted into the shadows like ink, only to reappear under the torchlight further down the hall.
"Is that... the lucky black cat? Hannah, am I seeing things?" Sally-Anne stamred.
Ten minutes later.
Beneath the festoons of holly and mistletoe, Hannah and Sally-Anne were still in disbelief.
They had been led back to their common room by a black cat. Even stranger, Mrs. Norris hadn't followed them, despite their slow, trembling pace.
They stood dumbfounded at the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room. Inside, it was warr and cozier than ever, curtains drawn, fire crackling, filled with the scent of plants and sweet treats. Yet, the two witches couldn't bring themselves to go in just yet.
"You were right, it is the lucky black cat! Oh my goodness—Sally-Anne, do you think the spirit of the statue ca to life?!" Hannah gasped.
"Oh! I bet you're right!" Sally-Anne agreed eagerly.
And so, the legend of the Lucky Black Cat began to spread.
By the next day, Sean heard the rumor in the Great Hall.
"The Midnight ssenger of Christmas, the Castle Spirit Cat who governs luck! The towering castle is his ears, the moving staircases his breath..."
Sean was baffled. When did this rumor start?
Then he heard Sally-Anne proclaiming confidently at the Hufflepuff table:
"If you can touch its ears," she declared, her voice clear and firm, "good luck will be with you for a whole year!"
That is absolutely not how it works! Sean thought, marveling at the students' capacity for spreading rumors.
The Hufflepuffs, trusting their friends implicitly, began discussing it with excitent.
At the High Table, Sean felt many eyes upon him. Dumbledore's beard was twitching with amusent. Professor McGonagall looked as gentle as ever, but her eyes held a bit too much mirth. However, her expression turned stoic whenever she glanced at the Headmaster.
Sean sighed. Let them talk. He just hoped that when he started his Animagus training, the Professor... or Dumbledore... wouldn't be laughing the whole ti.
It was the first Saturday of the Christmas holidays, a snowy morning.
A crowd of students—including Harry and the Weasleys—had been having a massive snowball fight on the grounds. Soaked and shivering, they returned to the Great Hall, seeking the warmth of the fires.
Sean had just erged from the Room of Hope, having endured Mr. Owl's noisy tantrums—flapping and pecking—for half an hour.
Of course, the noise wasn't limited to the portraits.
Headmaster's Office.
"Headmaster Dumbledore, if you have so much free ti, perhaps you should attend to so of your duties..."
Professor McGonagall's face was expressionless, her mouth a thin line.
"I need to take leave for a few days this Christmas. Here is my application."
She placed the form gently on the desk, maintaining her elegance despite her anger.
On a fresh envelope nearby, nas like Elphinstone Urquart and Malcolm were faintly visible.
Dumbledore paused. For the first ti in a long while, a genuine, heartfelt smile touched his face.
"You should. I agree, Minerva. I agree completely. Go."
His sincerity gave McGonagall pause.
The snowstorm raged outside, lting into trickles against the windowpane.
Those nas belonged to a story from several winters ago. A story perfect, yet tragic.
Early in her career at Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall had enjoyed a brief, happy marriage with her forr Ministry boss, Elphinstone Urquart.
Shortly after Voldemort's first fall, on a sumr afternoon walk by the lake, the white-haired Elphinstone had proposed again. This ti, she accepted. The retired Elphinstone, overjoyed, bought a cottage in Hogsade for them, making her commute easier.
It was a joyous marriage, though tragically short. They had no children, but Minerva's nieces and nephews (children of her brothers Malcolm and Robert Jr.) visited often.
Three years later, Elphinstone died from a Venomous Tentacula bite. The tragedy devastated everyone who knew them.
Unable to bear the empty cottage, Minerva packed her bags after the funeral and returned to Hogwarts, taking a room in the stone castle. Brave and private, she poured herself into her work. Few understood her pain, perhaps only Dumbledore.
Today, she had received another letter from afar. Her remaining family still held that love in their hearts. They begged her to bring the child to visit. She couldn't find a reason to refuse.
In the Headmaster's office, McGonagall's blue eyes shimred. She looked at the letter, then turned and left. It was as if... past happiness had glanced at her, briefly and carefully.
Dumbledore stared at the mountain of paperwork on his desk.
Did I... agree too quickly?
Regardless, when Sean knocked on the Transfiguration office door, he was t by Professor McGonagall's warm gaze.
"Co in, child. Headmaster Dumbledore is busy with school matters, so I will be guiding your Animagus transformation."
The fire in her office was the fiercest Sean had ever seen. Through the window, he could see students playing Quidditch.
On the sill sat a silver cat figurine and a box of exquisite cat-shaped biscuits.
"Let see your progress in Transfiguration first, child," she said.
(End of Chapter)
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