Chapter 62. Professor McGonagall's Questioning
Hurrying back to the dormitory, Duncan looked around and found Neville in the corner.
He was slumped against a chair as if Petrified, facing the wall, as though performing some sort of eerie ritual.
Duncan stepped closer for a look, and saw Neville cradling a spherical glass ball glowing a bright, vivid red.
It was the Remembrall Mrs Longbottom had sent last week.
As long as you held it and it turned red, it meant you had forgotten something.
It let you remember in time, so you wouldn't regret it.
But Duncan seriously doubted whether this Remembrall was actually useful to Neville.
Because ever since Neville had received it, the red light inside had never faded.
And Neville hadn't remembered a single thing, as if whatever he'd forgotten had been completely driven out of his mind.
So, for Neville, this thing was rather chicken-ribs—better than nothing at best.
Duncan stood beside the deep-in-thought Neville for a while and asked, "How is it this time, did you remember?"
"No..." Neville sighed in disappointment and carefully put the Remembrall into the side drawer.
Neville spun his chair around and glanced toward his bed, an imploring look on his face.
On the spot he was staring at, Pro was comfortably sprawled on the soft quilt, paw raking through its pouch, tidying up its hoard.
Sensing the scorching gaze coming from not far away, Pro turned and glanced at Neville, letting out two impatient barks.
Neville's dejection vanished in an instant.
He looked happily at Duncan and asked, "What did Pro just say?"
"It says you left your wand on the table in the work shed," Duncan said, his eyes moving oddly between Pro and Neville.
He hadn't expected Neville to make up for the Remembrall's shortcomings this way, giving that chicken-ribs item a real function.
"How could I forget something so important—thank you, Pro!"
Neville cried out, leapt up in a fluster, and hurried for the suitcase to look for his missing wand.
At the same moment, a coin traced a graceful arc through the air and landed precisely in front of Pro.
Duncan glanced sideways—it was a Knut.
Well, fair enough.
With how often he'd had Pro find things, Neville had no idea how much money he'd already contributed; being able to fork over a Knut now was pretty good.
Pro looked a bit disdainfully at the Knut by its paw, then casually hooked it into its pouch.
"You've become quite the little tycoon, haven't you?
You don't even look twice at Knuts now," Duncan said with a smile, sitting down at the bedside.
Pro's head bobbed reflexively, then it suddenly realised something, and shook like a rattle-drum, vehemently objecting.
Its eyes stayed wary on Duncan, its body subtly tilting to one side, ready to bolt at any time.
"Relax, I'm not after your money, you miser," Duncan rolled his eyes.
"I just mean, you and Neville are friends now, so shouldn't you charge him less?
You've about plucked him bald."
Pro exhaled in relief but still kept a paw on its pouch.
"I already lowered my prices ages ago.
Now he spends one Knut and I have to find him three things.
It's almost as cheap as a house-elf.
It's just that he loses too much stuff—there's nothing I can do..."
"Didn't expect that from you, Pro," Duncan said with a laugh.
"Lowering prices without me reminding you—progress!"
"Of course.
I'm the friend of the great Duncan Scamander!" Pro said, paying solemn compliments.
Even so, it still hadn't relaxed, afraid Duncan would set his sights on its little treasury and empty the savings of years.
"All right, just stay put in the dorm and behave yourself.
We're off to class."
Seeing Neville climb back out of the case, Duncan stood and spoke.
Pro nodded quickly and sat upright on the bed, wearing an I'm-so-good, I'm-so-obedient expression.
Duncan rolled his eyes, grabbed his books, and called Neville to head out of the dorm.
Along the way, Neville cheerfully shared a little story he'd read in a book that morning.
It told of the Giant Squid in the Black Lake; the book said it was transfigured by Gryffindor, which was why it was so clever.
Duncan, of course, didn't believe it at all, though that Giant Squid was indeed a bit mysterious.
Because the Giant Squid wasn't native to the Black Lake, and no one knew who had put it there.
Was it for some particular purpose, or just an accident?
As they were climbing the stairs, Duncan and Neville ran into Hannah and Ellie.
Hannah greeted them warmly, and the two girls waited at the turn of the stairs.
"Have you finished your homework?" Hannah asked as they walked.
Professor McGonagall had assigned each of them last week to consult the library and complete a paper on the origins of Transfiguration.
And no overly large lettering, and not fewer than twelve inches in length.
"Professor McGonagall's homework was too hard.
I only finished it last night..." Neville said, still shaken.
He'd had too much fun earlier and had completely tossed the homework out of his mind until Duncan reminded him.
So the day before yesterday and yesterday he had scribbled away for two nights straight, and only just managed to finish with Duncan's help.
When he finished speaking, Neville wanted to take out his homework to show Hannah and Ellie the fruit of his hard work.
But as his hands moved, he suddenly felt an empty nothing...
He remembered, with a jolt, that when he left he'd only worried about his wand and had forgotten to bring his textbook and homework.
"Duncan..." Neville called in a panic, ready to turn back to fetch them.
He'd surely be late, but that was better than walking into Professor McGonagall's class empty-handed.
But before he could move, Duncan, as if he had second sight, lifted a hand, and something appeared right in front of Neville.
Neville looked closely—it was his textbook, with his crumpled homework tucked in the middle.
"Thanks, thank you," Neville breathed out, thanking Duncan again and again.
Duncan shrugged.
"No big deal, but you really do need to watch that forgetful habit of yours."
"Mm-hmm," Neville nodded vigorously.
"Next time I'll write down everything I need to do!"
"Good idea.
Write it enough and maybe you'll remember," Hannah agreed.
Reaching the corridor outside the classroom, Duncan caught sight, out of the corner of his eye, of Professor McGonagall hurrying over.
She looked as if she'd run into something vexing—brows knitted together, lips pressed tight, all stern expression.
"Good afternoon, Professor McGonagall," Duncan greeted politely, turning to enter the classroom.
"Wait a moment, Mr Scamander," Professor McGonagall's rapid voice called from behind.
Duncan's steps halted, and his heart gave a sudden thump—Professor McGonagall only addressed him that way when he was in trouble.
But he hadn't violated any school rules recently, had he?
Duncan quickly composed himself and asked with a smile, "Professor, is something the matter?"
Professor McGonagall drew him aside and, in a lowered, severe voice, said, "Is your suitcase the same as Newt Scamander's?
In other words, have you secretly brought magical creatures to school?"
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