The next day.
Golden morning light streamed through the tall windows of the headmaster's office.
At this moment, Dumbledore sat behind his desk. He was looking at Adrian, who sat comfortably in the chair across from him, with an expression that could only be described as bewildered.
His usually twinkling blue eyes had widened behind his half-moon spectacles, and his long silver beard seemed to have stilled completely, as if even it was stunned by what it had just heard.
"Could you say that again, Adrian?" Dumbledore asked slowly, his voice carrying the tone of someone who suspected they might be the victim of a joke. "I fear my old ears may have deceived me."
"I've made it quite clear, Professor Dumbledore," Adrian replied shrugging his shoulders in a gesture that showed he found the situation as surreal as his audience did. He took a leisurely sip of coffee from the porcelain cup that had appeared at his elbow.
'The coffee was excellent,' he thought absently, 'probably imported from some exotic location.'
"Although it's hard to believe, and I understand your skepticism, Ron Weasley's pet rat is actually an Animagus," Adrian continued, setting down his cup with a soft clink.
Dumbledore fell silent for a moment, his fingers steepled beneath his chin as he processed this shocking news.
Several of the portraits had stirred at the word "Animagus," their eyes now alert and focused on the conversation below.
"This is indeed... very unexpected," Dumbledore said finally. "How did you discover this?"
"Through careful observation," Adrian replied, blinking innocently. "Oh, I'm certainly not joking about this, Professor. That rat really is an Animagus, though I understand how fantastic it must sound.
Of course, I don't have any concrete evidence on hand—nothing that would stand up in a court of law, anyway. Unless Mr. Weasley's rat were right here in front of us, I could use a counter-curse specifically designed for Animagi on it. That would force the transformation instantly."
Dumbledore's brow furrowed slightly his gaze becoming sharp.
If what Adrian said was true, and he had no reason to doubt him, then the implications were deeply troubling.
Why would someone choose to transform into a rat and remain in that form for years? What kind of desperation or calculating would drive a wizard to such extremes? And most importantly, why would they choose to stay beside a student—a child—for so long?
What were their intentions?
The questions multiplied like dark shadows in his mind, each one more disturbing than the last.
Dumbledore crossed his hands in front of his chin, his fingers interlacing as he leaned forward slightly. "Then... do you have any suspicions about who this Animagus might be?"
Adrian spread his hands in a gesture of honest uncertainty, his expression looking genuinely regretful.
"Not really sure, I'm afraid. I can only confirm with certainty that it's a wizard who has transformed. But as for who specifically, well, that's beyond my abilities to determine. Unless it reveals its true form voluntarily or is forced to do so, I can't determine the individual's identity either."
"Very well," Dumbledore sighed deeply. "Thank you for providing this information, Adrian. I can't overstate how important this could be. I'll need to have a very careful conversation with young Ron about this matter—and soon."
"That would be perfect," Adrian agreed, standing up from his chair and walked toward the door. "Mr. Weasley is quite fond of his rat. I hope he'll be mentally prepared for what you're about to tell him."
After revealing the crucial information to Dumbledore, Adrian quickly left the office.
The rest of the situation would be for Dumbledore to worry about—Adrian's task was complete, and he had other responsibilities to attend to. His mind was already turning to more immediate concerns: what magical creatures to prepare for the students' upcoming lessons.
The warm afternoon sunlight flooded through the glass windows of the Gryffindor common room.
Harry was sitting on one of the comfortable sofas near the fireplace as he bent over that day's copy of the Daily Prophet.
The latest news about Sirius Black was prominently featured—Muggles had reportedly spotted Black's figure lurking around the outskirts of Hogsmeade village.
It seemed, just as the Ministry officials and Aurors had predicted, that Black had indeed come to Hogwarts.
However, although he was somewhat nervous, after all, Black was supposedly a dangerous murderer who had escaped from the most secure prison in the wizarding world, Harry didn't feel the paralyzing terror that the adults seemed to expect from him.
After all, this was Hogwarts, the safest place in magical Britain and with Dumbledore as headmaster, surely even someone as dangerous as Sirius Black wouldn't have a real chance of causing harm.
Unless he was desperate enough to venture outside Hogwarts.
At this moment, Ron and Hermione entered the common room together. Hermione looked better than she had in recent days.
"Next is Defense Against the Dark Arts," Hermione said to both of them, consulting the small schedule she kept pinned to her bag. "Only twenty minutes left before we need to head to Professor Lupin's classroom. We should start gathering our things. Hey, Ron, what are you doing?"
Ron was currently hunched over, looking worriedly at Scabbers in his hands.
Scabbers was curled up in Ron's palm, listless, his gray-brown fur looking dull and lifeless.
After hearing Hermione's words, Ron looked up with reluctance, his blue eyes reflecting concern. "Oh, right. Defense Against the Dark Arts. I'm coming."
As they made their way through the castle corridors toward Professor Lupin's classroom, Ron would occasionally pause to take Scabbers out of his pocket, checking on the rat's condition with the anxious attention of a parent tending to a sick child.
Seeing his worried expression, Hermione couldn't help but comment. "You really love your Scabbers, don't you? I've never seen you so concerned about anything."
Ron stroked Scabbers' tiny head with one finger, and sighed deeply. "He's really lacking energy today. I gave him some of his favorite treats this morning, but he's barely eaten anything."
Hermione leaned in for a closer look. Her expression grew more serious as she observed the listless rat. "Ron, I hate to say this, but Scabbers is already very old for a rat. It might be that his natural lifespan is coming to an end. I remember you mentioning that he's lived far longer than ordinary rats normally do."
Ron's expression became visibly dejected at her words. He wanted to argue with Hermione, to insist that Scabbers would be fine, but the logical part of his mind knew she was probably right. The rat had been part of their Weasley family for longer than any normal pet should have lived.
Harry, walking alongside them, patted Ron's shoulder in a gesture of comfort. "At least he's had a good life these years, right? Your whole family has taken excellent care of him. He's been loved and protected, which is more than many pets can say."
Ron nodded reluctantly, though his face remained troubled. He carefully placed Scabbers back in his pocket.
"Are you planning to take him to class?" Hermione asked.
"Of course," Ron replied immediately. "I can't leave Scabbers alone in the dormitory, not when he's feeling so poorly. I should spend more time with him, especially if..." He didn't finish the sentence.
Harry was quite looking forward to Defense Against the Dark Arts class for the first time in years. After the disastrous tenure of Quirrell, who had been possessed by Voldemort, and the embarrassing incompetence of Gilderoy Lockhart, who had turned out to be a fraud, the thought of learning from someone with real knowledge and skill was refreshing.
He was certain that with Remus abilities, the class would be nothing like the dangerous farce it had been under previous instructors.
Indeed, Harry's optimism proved to be justifiable.
The Defense Against the Dark Arts class was excellent—engaging, educational, and mercifully free of any life-threatening incidents.
When class ended, all the students were still excitedly discussing the lesson as they walked out of the classroom.
Professor Lupin had introduced them to a fascinating and rather dangerous magical creature—a boggart.
This shape-shifting creature possessed the unsettling ability to see into people's hearts and minds, transforming itself into whatever each person feared most.
The spell to counter it was "Riddikulus"—a charm that forced the boggart to take on a ridiculous appearance, rendering it harmless through the power of laughter.
The practical demonstration had been both educational and entertaining.
Ron's boggart had transformed into a giant spider, its hairy legs and multiple eyes causing him to stumble backward with a strangled cry. But when he had successfully cast the Riddikulus charm, the spider had suddenly sprouted roller skates and began sliding around helplessly, prompting laughter from the entire class.
Hermione's boggart had taken the form of Professor McGonagall, but a version of their Transfiguration professor who had an expression of severe disappointment. This stern McGonagall had informed Hermione that she had failed all her exams.
Honestly, though the sight was somewhat comical when viewed objectively, the choice made perfect sense for Hermione. Academic failure was perhaps the only thing that could truly terrify someone whose entire identity was built around intellectual achievement.
Oh, and Neville's boggart had been particularly memorable. His greatest fear had manifested as Professor Snape in all his intimidating glory. But when Neville had successfully cast the Riddikulus charm, Snape had suddenly transformed into wearing a woman's dress with lace trim and a matching hat adorned with a stuffed vulture.
The sight of their most feared professor transformed into such a ridiculous figure had sent the entire class into fits of laughter.
Harry somewhat regretted that Colin Creevey wasn't present in their class—the enthusiastic first-year would have undoubtedly captured that precious moment with his ever-present camera, creating a photograph that would have been treasured by Gryffindor students for generations to come.
As for Harry himself, he felt a lingering disappointment that Professor Lupin hadn't allowed him to face the boggart. For some unknown reason, when it had been his turn, Lupin had quickly intervened, directing the boggart back into its containment box before Harry could even raise his wand.
This left him feeling somewhat cheated of the experience, curious about what form his own fears might have taken.
The three friends continued to discuss the boggart and its various manifestations as they walked out of the classroom, their voices mixing with those of their classmates in an energetic post-lesson analysis. However, their conversation was interrupted when Professor Lupin's voice came through the chatter.
"Could you come here for a moment, Mr. Weasley?" Lupin called in their direction.
Ron stopped in his tracks, looking around with confusion before pointing at himself uncertainly. "Me? Are you sure?"
"Ah, yes," Lupin confirmed, his expression becoming more serious. "I'm afraid this might take up some of your time, Ron. We need to go to the headmaster's office together."
Upon hearing this unexpected development, Ron turned to Harry and Hermione with a mixture of confusion and concern. "You two go ahead to the common room. I'll catch up with you later, assuming this doesn't take too long."
Harry immediately felt a surge of puzzlement and concern. What could Professor Lupin possibly want with Ron? The lesson had gone perfectly well, and Ron hadn't caused any disruptions or problems.
It couldn't be because Ron had been slightly distracted during class—he had been checking on Scabbers periodically, but that was hardly unusual behavior for a student with a sick pet. Besides, Harry believed that Lupin was far too understanding and compassionate to make a big issue out of such a minor matter.
And why did they need to go to the headmaster's office?
Before leaving with Professor Lupin, Ron carefully took out Scabbers from his pocket and handed it to Harry.
"Help me take him back to the dormitory, will you? He needs to have some more Rat Tonic now—the bottle is in the wooden box under my bed, next to my trunk. Oh, and whatever you do, don't let Hermione's cat get anywhere near Scabbers. He's too weak to defend himself right now."
"Crookshanks wouldn't be interested in your rat," Hermione protested, raising an eyebrow at what she considered an unfair accusation. "Besides, he's rarely been around me these past few days. I don't even know where he's wandered off to."
"Oh, okay then," Ron said, though his tone said he wasn't completely convinced.
Harry accepted the responsibility of caring for Scabbers, holding the small rat gently in his hands.
Only then did Ron feel comfortable following Professor Lupin away, though he cast several backward glances at his beloved pet as they left.
However, as soon as Ron's figure disappeared around the corner, Scabbers suddenly began struggling frantically in Harry's hands.
"Settle down, little guy," Harry murmured, trying to maintain his grip on the increasingly agitated rat. "Ron will be back soon, and you'll feel better after some more tonic."
But Scabbers seemed determined to escape, his struggles became more violent and desperate by the moment. Harry spent considerable time trying to get the rat under control.
In the midst of the struggle, Scabbers managed to twist around and sink his tiny teeth into Harry's finger, drawing blood and causing Harry to yelp in pain and surprise.
"Ouch! What's gotten into you?" Harry muttered, examining the small but painful bite mark on his finger while trying to prevent Scabbers from making another escape attempt.
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