Animagus magic is an extremely profound, dangerous, and strictly regulated branch of magic, far beyond the scope of ordinary Transfiguration.
It is a form of self-magic that bridges the soul and the body. Not only does it allow a person to transform into a specific animal, but it also alters the user's soul essence accordingly.
Once a wizard's essence is twisted and reshaped, they may appear blurred or unfamiliar, or even be mistaken for an ordinary low-level animal in a Dementor's perception.
Sagres unconsciously brushed his fingers over the surface of his wand. This was only a guess, a hypothesis based on limited observation, without any solid evidence to support it.
After all, Azkaban had never recorded a successful prison escape, and as far as he knew, there were currently only seven registered Animagi:
Minerva McGonagall, tabby cat, registered in 1956, Hogwarts Transfiguration Professor.
Donaghan Tremlett, rabbit, registered in 1929, employee of the Ministry of Magic's Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.
Tiberius Ogden, badger, registered in 1914, senior member of the Wizengamot.
Carlotta Pinkstone, magpie, registered in 1894, the first reporter to use an Animagus identity to cover Quidditch.
Dalco Creswell, crow, registered in 1822, Head of the Goblin Liaison Office, later dismissed for bribery.
Cecilia Sampaio, golden snub-nosed monkey, registered around 1800, representative of the Portuguese Ministry of Magic.
Anonymous wizard, unknown form, registered in 1901, later went into seclusion, file encrypted.
Moreover, on this list, Tiberius Ogden, the badger Animagus, died of natural causes in 1943, while Dalco Creswell, the crow Animagus, died of dragon pox in Azkaban.
This suggested that Azkaban had safeguards in place for known Animagus prisoners, but only when their identities were known in advance.
And Sirius Black was very likely an unregistered Animagus.
Sagres was certain that compared to the few registered individuals, who were like "living rare specimens" in the wizarding world, the unregistered ones hidden in the shadows made up the true majority.
However, a far more crucial question arose. Since Animagus magic is self-cast and does not require a wand, then why had Sirius endured thirteen long years in Azkaban, only choosing to escape after seeing a newspaper?
Sagres took out the paper again, his deep gaze moving back and forth over the faces of the Weasley family.
At last, his eyes fixed on the rat perched on Ron's shoulder.
"So… you're an Animagus as well?" Sagres narrowed his eyes.
Realising he had ideas that needed to be confirmed, he immediately rose and left his office.
Meanwhile, students were making their way through torchlit corridors lined with portraits. Gryffindors chatted as they climbed the spiral staircase, preparing to return to their common room at the top of the tower.
But at the end of the staircase, in front of the Fat Lady's portrait, a crowd of students had gathered, growing denser by the moment and completely blocking the way forward.
"Why is everyone blocking the way here? It can't be that everyone forgot the password, can it?" Hermione stood on her tiptoes, peering ahead as she asked curiously.
"Make way, please. I'm the Head Boy." Percy's voice came from within the crowd. He pushed forward importantly. "Excuse me, move aside. Head Boy coming through."
Harry and his friends stepped aside, letting the serious-faced Percy squeeze past.
"The password is 'Wormtail'," Percy called out as he pushed ahead. "Why isn't anyone saying anything? Move aside—"
But just as Percy finally reached the front, he suddenly fell silent. It was as if something had caught in his throat, his voice cutting off abruptly.
A cold chill seemed to creep up the staircase from the front, instantly silencing the previously noisy crowd.
Ron frowned, sensing something was wrong, when Percy suddenly shouted in a shrill voice, "Someone—someone go get Professor Dumbledore! And Professor McGonagall! Now! Quickly!"
The crowd stirred with a low buzz, unease spreading in ripples.
Students pushed against one another in panic, whispering about what could have happened.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged glances, then forced their way through the students ahead of them, finally reaching the very front.
"Oh my goodness—" Hermione gasped, clutching Harry's arm tightly.
The sight before them was terrifying. The Fat Lady's portrait had been ripped to shreds, fragments of canvas scattered across the cold floor as though slashed by a beast's claws, with only a few pitiful scraps still hanging from the frame.
Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Professor Lupin, Snape, Sagres, and several other professors arrived quickly after receiving the news.
Dumbledore's sharp eyes swept over the completely destroyed portrait, his expression growing unusually grave.
He turned to his colleagues, the warmth of his usual smile gone, replaced by rare seriousness.
"The Fat Lady is missing. We must find her at once," Dumbledore said. "Minerva, go find Filch and the ghosts. Have them search every painting in the castle for her whereabouts."
"No need," Sagres said calmly.
Dumbledore frowned slightly and looked at him. "I'm sorry, Sagres, what did you say?"
"I said there's no need," Sagres repeated. He did not look at Dumbledore, but nodded toward a painting in the distance. "She's over there."
All the professors immediately followed his gaze.
It was a landscape painting on the 4th floor. Against a backdrop of dense jungle and a wide river, a hippopotamus was rolling happily in a muddy pool.
And at that very moment, behind the plump hippopotamus, a stout figure in a pink silk dress was desperately trying to curl up and hide herself.
It was the missing Fat Lady.
Everyone hurried over to the painting.
The Fat Lady looked pale and terrified. When she saw the professors gathered outside the frame, she did not come forward. Instead, she shrank back even further behind the hippopotamus, only her trembling back visible.
"Are you all right, Fat Lady?" Dumbledore leaned closer to the frame, asking with concern.
"Not at all!" The Fat Lady's voice was thick with sobs. "I nearly died! Nearly! Do you have any idea how terrifying that was?"
"You're safe now, Fat Lady," Dumbledore said gently. "Can you tell us what happened?"
"Didn't you see my painting?!" The Fat Lady suddenly raised her voice. "That dreadful destruction! It was that… that madman! That murderer!"
She finally seemed to muster a little courage and cautiously peeked half her terrified face out from behind the hippopotamus.
"Sirius Black!" the Fat Lady shrieked, making every student holding their breath shudder. "It was him! That escapee from Azkaban! He… he's back! He tried to break into Gryffindor Tower!"
"Black?!" Professor McGonagall gasped, her face instantly turning as pale as the Fat Lady's. She clutched her chest instinctively.
Snape's dark eyes flared with a dangerous light, a mix of intense loathing and something close to obsession.
His thin lips twisted into a cold line as he drew his wand and strode into the Gryffindor common room.
Sagres and Lupin followed close behind.
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