Animagus
August 10, 1995
Draco
"Blaise Zabini is one of them."
No. No, no, no. It can’t be true.
Zabini has never insulted anyone for their blood, he has never conformed to the sick mindset of our circle. He’s not like us. He’s never had to slip through poisonous conversations, pretending to nod, suppressing his disgust. He’s never had to lower his gaze to survive.
He’s different. He’s always been the one who could stay out of trouble, the one who didn’t get his hands dirty. He has a loving mother, a nearly normal family.
They can’t have got him. They can’t have condemned him to this. They can’t have condemned him to lycanthropy.
"No, not him."
Theo’s voice is a broken whisper next to me. He’s shaking. His hand grips my shoulder, seeking support from me. "He’s the good one, his family is good. They can’t have done this to him."
I wish I could believe it, I wish I could believe it’s impossible. And yet I imagine Blaise, trapped in some filthy cell, his eyes staring into nothingness as he tries not to give in to panic. Blaise, the one who’s always been the sarcastic soul of the group, the one who can laugh about anything.
No. He doesn’t deserve to be alone. He won’t be.
I take a deep breath and look at Theo, searching for the courage to say what immediately came to my mind. Even though I’m afraid.
"Teach us to become animagus." My voice sounds firmer than I actually feel. "We won’t leave him alone, Sirius."
For a moment, in the suspended silence that follows what I’ve said, I think I’ve said the wrong thing. They all stare at me, and no one says anything.
The first sound to come isn’t a response from Sirius but a scoff.
"Don’t be ridiculous, Malfoy."
The tone is unmistakable. Granger. Of course.
She shrugs, with that “I know everything” look that makes me want to throw something at her. "The potion is extremely complicated, the procedure is detailed, and, most importantly, it would be illegal."
Oh, sure, because the biggest issue here is legality. Probably, if I weren’t so tense, I’d laugh in her face.
"It’s true, becoming an Animagus takes a lot of work," says Sirius, confirming what Hermione just said, and my heart tightens a little. Before he turns to me with a dangerously familiar smile. "But fortunately, we can start right away. I have Mandrake leaves at home. The other ingredients, Remus and I can find. You could transform by the full moon in October, weather permitting."
It’s a crazy idea. Illegal. Dangerous. Perfect.
My eyes search for Theo’s, looking for some confirmation, some support. I don’t need to say anything: he understands immediately. The smile that spreads across his face is the answer I was waiting for. And I feel his trust, clearer than ever.
"I’m in," his voice is determined, full of resolve. "I won’t leave him alone."
Satisfied, I nod, but before Sirius can say anything, another voice cuts through.
"And now that I’m in, might as well dance, right?"
Theo and I spin around, staring at her with wide eyes. Hermione Granger. She just said... she’s in?
I look at her, searching for signs of a jinx thrown when we weren’t looking, a potion, anything that could explain how the hell those words came out of her mouth.
"You... you want to do it too?"
She can’t be serious. Not her. Not after years of teasing, insults, curses. I’d be surprised if today she even forgave us, let alone this.
Helping someone she doesn’t even know. Risking becoming half animal, half human. After everything we’ve put her through. Damn, stupid Gryffindor pride.
"Yes."
She answers immediately, direct, with the utmost naturalness, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
She claps her hands, snapping us out of the trance we had fallen into. "I was supposed to go to the Burrow to surprise the others, but I’ll stay here. Sirius, would you take me inside to talk to Andromeda? And maybe you can explain everything in more detail?"
That wasn’t really a question.
Sirius doesn’t bat an eye, she takes his arm, and without a word of protest, he lets himself be led inside, even throwing us an amused look over his shoulder before disappearing through the door.
Theo and I remain still on the porch, the silence lasts a few seconds, then, as always, it’s him who says aloud what we’re both thinking.
"Draco... am I wrong, or did Hermione Granger, the strict and rule-abiding Granger, just volunteer to do something illegal with two Slytherins, children of Death Eaters, who have been tormenting her until yesterday?"
I stare at him. I stare at the door. I nod slowly, not knowing how to comment aloud on all of this.
"Shit... it’s all one big madness."
Of course, needless to say, that evening, Nott and I ended up in the Gryffindor’s room to have a little chat. And I must emphasize that I was absolutely not threatened with dirty underwear to do so. Not at all. It was a decision made entirely on my own and with the utmost dignity.
August 31, 1995
Hermione
"I can't stand it anymore."
Theo's whiny voice reaches my ears promptly, with the same regularity as the sun rising every morning. It's become the soundtrack to my days, a sort of lullaby in reverse that, instead of calming me, just annoys me.
His suffering – because apparently, holding a Mandrake leaf in your mouth is equivalent to medieval torture – has been the main topic of every conversation we’ve had for weeks. If it were up to him, he’d have already written a letter to the members of the Wizengamot denouncing this cruel practice.
"On September 9th, there will be a full moon. You only have to hold on a little longer."
Draco scolds him with the tone of someone trying to convince a child that broccoli is delicious. And, just like a child, Theo sighs exasperatedly, flopping onto the sofa with a martyr-like expression.
I ignore the drama and repeat for the millionth time the procedure. "That night we have to hope it won’t be cloudy. The moon has to be clearly visible."
At this point, Theo sits up slightly from the couch, dramatically pointing his finger at me and, with his best imitation of my voice – which apparently sounds unbearably pedantic – repeats:
"Then we have to spit the leaf into a vial exposed to the moon’s rays, along with one of our hairs, adding a teaspoon of silver dew and the pupa of a death’s-head hawk moth."
Draco, who obviously can’t miss this opportunity, sits up slightly from the sofa and, with a finger raised theatrically, adopts a shrill tone that, I suspect, is meant to be my imitation.
"But the dew must have been kept in a place that hasn’t seen sunlight and hasn’t been stepped on by human feet for seven days."
Theo nods vigorously, pretending to tuck a rebellious lock of hair behind his ear, exactly like I do when I’m focused.
"And then we have to place the vial in the dark and not disturb it until the thunderstorm."
At this point, Draco flops backward with the expression of a tragic Shakespearean hero.
"And every day we must say, with the wand on our heart, 'Amato Animo Animato Animagus.'"
He finishes his performance by rolling his eyes at the sky and sighing, mimicking with eerie accuracy my attitude when I have to explain something to someone who seems incapable of grasping basic concepts.
I remain silent, watching them. The two idiots stare at me with satisfied grins, puffed up with self-congratulation for their theatrical display. For a long, long moment, I try to keep my expression neutral. I force myself to stay serious, to not give them the satisfaction of a reaction.
Then, inevitably, I burst out laughing.
Not only have I discovered that Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott are incredibly smart – smart enough not to let me do all the work alone like I expected, but to actually contribute in a meaningful way – but they’re also funny.
Funny.
Funny in the sense that they know how to be ironic, brilliant, even self-deprecating. In the sense that Malfoy’s sarcasm isn’t just poison, it can also be amusing, and Theo has a natural talent for imitation.
The thought is so unacceptable that I feel the physical need to stab my heart for having thought it.
Or at least rinse my mouth with holy water.
Nott elbows Malfoy, chuckling. "Can you believe that today she didn’t point her wand at our throats for making fun of her?"
Draco tries to smile, but his fake expression doesn’t reach his eyes. I see the pain he’s in, even though he tries to hide it. Because I know exactly what he’s thinking.
In these weeks, my behavior with them has been a rollercoaster. There are days, like today, when I can laugh with them, let go. Days when we almost seem... friends. And then there have been those dark moments when the past wins. An offhand comment, a wrong joke, and in an instant they find themselves pinned to the wall with a wand to their throats.
The truth is, I haven’t forgiven them yet. Not completely.
Maybe I’m not even capable of it. I don’t know.
I just know that the pain doesn’t disappear because someone apologizes, because someone tries to change.
And yet, they try. They really do.
They involve me in everything, even the dumbest things. They come to my room at night, probably thinking I need company, and sit down to chat about anything and everything. They ask me questions about the Muggle world with genuine interest. They try to really get to know me.
But there are moments when, without meaning to, I raise my shields. Without control, I hurt them.
Every comment I respond to coldly, every step they take forward that I instinctively push away. Every single time I react with anger.
I see them stiffen, I see them pull back, as if they’re afraid they’ve pushed me too far. As if they know there’s an invisible line they shouldn’t cross, but have no idea where it is.
The first time I pointed my wand at Malfoy, he didn’t come down to dinner. Only in the dead of night did I hear a knock on my door. When I opened it, Malfoy was there, hands in his pockets, eyes down. He apologized, for everything. Again.
I know they’ve hurt me, I know they’ve been mean, cruel. But I also know they’re trying to be better.
I roll my eyes at the sky, ignoring Nott’s comment with an exasperated sigh. "Tomorrow we go back to Hogwarts, are you ready?"
I couldn’t have said anything worse.
I immediately understand from the way their expressions dull instantly. Draco is the first to react. He jumps up abruptly, with an almost angry movement.
"Of course, Granger. I can't wait to start vomiting insults at you again. At you and anyone else, just to avoid being tortured."
His words hit me like a slap.
"Malfoy, I didn’t mean—"
But he doesn’t let me finish. He doesn’t listen to me, he doesn’t want to listen.
He grabs his things quickly before giving me a forced smile.
"Zabini will be terrified. We'll finish the potion in front of him, it’ll be the proof we need to gain his trust."
His voice is flat, controlled. His eyes are black. From what Nott explained to me, he’s shutting down.
And before I can say anything, he turns and walks away.
Theo follows immediately.
But before disappearing, he gives me a glance of apology. As if he has to justify Draco’s behavior, when it’s actually me who made the mistake.
I made the mistake of speaking as if going back to Hogwarts was normal, as if for them it wasn’t a return to hell.
I run a hand over my face, trying to ignore the knot that’s formed in my throat.
I think it’s time for me to take a step forward too.
I approach Draco’s door with my heart pounding in my chest, gently knocking, immediately signaling that it’s me on the other side. To my surprise, the door opens almost immediately, revealing Draco with an unreadable expression. He stands on the threshold, not inviting me in.
"Granger, I’m sorry for the way I reacted," he starts, not giving me a chance to say anything.
I interrupt him before he can continue. "Don’t apologize, I’m the one who was wrong. I took something lightly that hurts you deeply, and I truly apologize for that."
His face lights up in surprise, I see his eyes shift from black to gray right in front of me.
"Are you serious?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper.
I nod, feeling a lump form in my throat. "Yes, Malfoy. I was insensitive, and I hurt your feelings. I’m really sorry."
A shy smile slowly forms on his face, an expression I’ve never seen before, almost childlike.
"You’re the third person who’s ever apologized to me in my life," he reveals, with a mix of pride and sadness that strikes me deeply. "You’re on the podium with Sirius and Theo."
With a silent gesture, he leaves the door open as he walks back into the room, and I take the invitation, following him inside.
"I don’t think I’ve been fair to you," I admit, closing the door behind me and searching for the right words. "I listened to your apologies without offering mine. I’ve mocked you, cursed you, and as much as I hated you in those moments, you didn’t deserve it. I’m sorry."
Draco blinks, clearly surprised by my confession. "Oh," he murmurs, "thank you, Granger. That really means a lot to me."
"I’ll probably hurt you again," I confess, my voice coming out weaker than I’d like. "Sometimes I just can’t pretend nothing’s happened and I react badly, as if nothing’s changed."
He nods slowly. "I can accept that. I’d say I deserve it. I need to prove something to you, right?"
His honesty disarms me.
My gaze drifts around the room, stopping on the bed scattered with open books. I move closer, curious, and notice that they aren’t magical texts.
"Are you studying math?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.
His cheeks flush a light shade of red. "I started with that," he says, pointing to an electronics manual, "but I didn’t understand much, so I’m starting from the basics. I want to understand what a phone is."
I never would have expected this.