"Alright, since we have known that Inumanos refer to individuals who can transform into certain animals while retaining magical spells, they are either sorcerers or witches who--"
On the last class of Transformation, Professor McGonagall quickly scanned through the summaries of students' essays on Animagi, her lips tightening more and more. She looked at the bizarre and unrelated words on the paper. As a professor deeply rooted in Hogwarts for most of her life, she couldn't help but reflect internally on how significantly the average scores of young wizards had dropped recently.
"Then, can someone tell me why the Ministry of Magic strictly regulates this convenient and magical spell?"
Whip!
Including Professor McGonagall, the small witches and wizards in the classroom had instinctively reacted to Hermione's training. They all looked at the small witch sitting directly in front of the professor, who was currently lowering her head. However, when they noticed that Hermione was not reaching for the chandelier hanging from the ceiling as she had expected, all their eyebrows unconsciously pulled up by half an inch.
"What's wrong with her?"
Ron deliberately chose a distant seat from Hermione's and shook his head a little unsteadily, asking in a low voice, somewhat uneasily.
Isn't it obvious?
Harry mimicked Professor McGonagall by pressing his lips together and remained silent.
The night before going to bed, Hermione and Ron had a big fight in the common room over Snitch's sudden disappearance. Although they calmed down after everyone's persuasion, Harry saw Hermione's tears like pearls falling off one by one as she left.
At this moment, Harry felt Nevil gently tap his back. Without needing to turn around to ask, the experienced Harry subtly retracted his right hand from the desk and, pretending to scratch his armpit, took a piece of paper from Nevil's hand.
'She cried all night without sleeping!'
The concise text on the note was neat and not written by Neville, but by Hermione's roommate Parvati Patil. Harry glanced at it briefly, and his mood instantly became much heavier.
‘After class, we should go find Hermione and talk to her.’
Harry picked up the quill and quickly wrote down a sentence, then handed it to Ron who was already impatient but pretending to be indifferent. When Ron saw the notes written by Patil and Harry, he did waver for a moment. But after recalling the tragic death of Snitch, his heart hardened again.
"No, unless she apologizes first!"
"Oh, what's going on?"
Professor McGonagall frowned as she descended from the podium, addressing her students.
"Isn't there any approval in your expressions in my class?"
Malfoy, sitting in the west row, looked a bit puzzled about Hermione's behavior. He instinctively glanced at Harry's position, but to his surprise, Pansy Parkinson sitting next to him raised her hand unexpectedly.
"Miss Parkinson?"
Professor McGonagall called out her name in some surprise, "Alright, you may answer this question."
"The conditions to become an Animagus are very strict, the whole process takes months, and if even one step is wrong, you have to start over. Repeat this many times, and it may take years. This is why the Ministry of Magic strictly controls this spell!"
Pansy raised her hand and answered the question with a shrill voice.
Her answer was very standard, even Professor McGonagall couldn't find any mistakes. As she was about to give Slytherin five points, Pansy suddenly pointed at Hermione's seat and said loudly with a smug smile,
"Professor McGonagall, I've noticed that Hermione Granger is sleeping in your class!"
With her mind preoccupied with today's lessons, the tragic death of Snitch, and Ron's decisive departure, Hermione was drowsy and suddenly heard someone calling her name. Instantly, she snapped awake. Instinctively, she quickly pushed back her chair with a forceful motion, her red and puffy eyes blurring as she aimed at Professor McGonagall who was frowning.
"I'm sorry, Professor, I didn't hear your question clearly!"
The classroom fell into a brief silence, and then, there was a sudden sound of chairs shaking and raucous laughter from the Slytherin side.
"No need to worry, Miss Granger,"
Professor McGonagall frowned at Pansy who was banging her desk, and walked quickly to Hermione's side, supporting her arm and looking down at her with a concerned expression.
"It seems you are seriously lacking in rest, Miss Granger?"
Stung by the professor's concerned inquiry, Hermione suddenly jumped. Her red and swollen eyes widened, and she spoke with an urgent tone of entreaty.
"No, Professor, I...I just had a nightmare last night, Professor, so..."
"Well,"
It's obvious that this excuse wouldn't fool Professor McGonagall, but seeing the tears in Hermione's eyes and her resolute expression, even though she was thinking of taking back the time-turner, the professor softened a little. After hesitating for a moment, she firmly said,
"I believe you need to go to Madam Pomfrey now. She has some ways that can help you restore your spirit, Miss Granger. This class is not going to be of much use today, so you can leave right away."
Squeak!
After the heavy door closed, the laughter and uneasy chatter in the Transfiguration classroom disappeared cleanly.
There were still a few minutes before the end of the last class in the morning. There were no professors or students seen on these dense floors, so Hermione, holding onto the handrail, dragged along with her seven or eight heavy books, taking each step one by one and stumbling down towards the school hospital.
Crookshanks couldn't have killed Snitch... Ron and Harry... poor Crookshanks...
The awkwardness of Transfiguration class quickly disappeared from Hermione's mind. She was filled with sorrowful thoughts about the events of last night, Ron's cold words, and Harry's heartless thoughts, though he was trying to ease Ron's anger. However, she couldn't shake off the feeling that it was Crookshanks who killed Snitch.
Splash!
The straps of the backpack finally gave way, and the books, each over two inches thick, fell noisily to the ground. Hermione hurriedly squatted down, picking up the books one by one to put them back in her backpack. One book was several steps below, and Hermione, holding the open backpack with one hand, reached down to grab it. But the weight of the backpack suddenly made her body lose its balance!
Bang!
After a short and panic-filled shriek, Hermione tumbled down seven or eight steps, her forehead suddenly hitting the wall opposite. Her eyes rolled, and she collapsed, unconscious...
In the third-floor office, with a solemn expression, Amos Titus witnessed this scene and strode towards the door, slamming it shut and leaving.
Standing at the corner between the fifth and fourth floors, Amos Titus looked down at the little witch who was either unconscious or asleep. At the moment when his right foot was in mid-air, he suddenly gained enlightenment. He looked around the empty corridor and hesitated for a moment before his figure gradually merged with the wall.
A few seconds after a concealed spell of light entered the little witch's body, Hermione, who had fallen to the ground, groaned softly. She struggled to prop herself up with her arms, her red eyes filled with confusion.
"Ooh, how long have I been asleep!"
Foggy-minded Hermione barely noticed that the bruise on her head, which should have appeared, was gone. She also forgot McGonagall's instructions completely. After a flustered check of the time, she quickly took out the tiny hourglass from her collar and twirled it around nervously. In front of Amos Titus's eyes, she vanished into thin air.
"So, indeed--"
Amos Titus appeared again and looked at the place where Hermione had disappeared, shook his head and smiled.
"I've been worrying... I never thought it was yours, Miss Granger..."
