Even for investigations, we have to rely on those elders...
How about just replacing the Minister of Magic... Why does it feel like that minister named Fudge is trying to meddle with Hogwarts?
Having gathered a group of Death Eaters, including the likes of Malfoy, William is now very perceptive of the political intrigues in the magic realm, especially the discussions between Fudge, the Ministry of Magic, and Dumbledore regarding the deployment of Dementors.
"... Senior?"
Seeing William seemingly lost in thought, Harry opened his mouth helplessly.
"..."
The startled William was silent for a moment, then patted the boy on the shoulder with an expression of helplessness.
I can't help you, I'm not your father, and I'm not in the right position to do so. Besides, the situation outside is so severe, with a fugitive Death Eater lurking around. Although the training in pressure real combat is going well, isn't he getting a bit too complacent?
Hmm, let's find Lupin later, and have him give Harry some extra practice. Now that the potion is ready, it's time to add Occlumency to the agenda.
Unaware that he had more obligations placed on him, Harry sighed. He was just trying his luck with that question. Perhaps Sirius didn't come to Hogwarts after all?
In fact, even if he got the signature now, he wouldn't be able to leave the day after tomorrow. After all, Professor McGonagall had already collected the forms a week ago.
There was no choice, as it had been calm for a month and a half now. Harry couldn't help but feel that those worries were a bit overblown. Maybe Sirius wasn't after him at all and was out enjoying himself after escaping prison?
Evidently, the adults didn't think so. Harry touched his stomach and remained silent for a long time, finally accepting the reality that he needed to stay at Hogwarts.
...
Time flew by, and two days passed in the blink of an eye.
Sitting on the balcony, looking at the dark and storm-clouded sky overhead and Lupin, who had already transformed into a werewolf beside him, William nodded—not bad. What if the full moon day turned out cloudy? How would he know the time? This works perfectly. Now, Lupin is the real timekeeper.
Lycanthropy was different from those legendary werewolves; their transformation depended on the time, not the presence of the moon.
But the Animagus ritual was different. If the full moon night was cloudy, everything would need to start over—this was unacceptable. Carrying the mandrake leaves for another thirty days would be beyond torture. Hence, the Room of Requirement showed its value.
With this thought in mind, William turned his head back. Receiving the signal, Dobby nodded, snapped his fingers lightly, and the next moment, the mischievous moonlight streaked through the clouds, with the silvery-white moon hanging silently as if it had never disappeared.
"Hehe..."
William smiled happily and then took out a bunch of items he had prepared long ago, such as a strand of hair, a silver teaspoon of dew untouched by sunlight, and a pupa of a ghoul-face moth. He placed them along with the now unrecognizable mandrake leaves into a small prepared vial, allowing ample time for them to be exposed to sunlight.
Then, he sealed it... Before the next storm comes, this potion must not see the light of day or any person.
Though he could summon rain and thunder from the Room of Requirement now, there was still the need to chant spells, and he couldn't skip it entirely. Too infrequent wouldn't cut it either; back then, Professor Meow waited nearly a year.
During that year, every sunrise and sunset, she needed to point her wand tip to her heart and recite the spell: "Amado, Animo, Animado, Animagus—"
It mustn't be interrupted, and during this time, one might even feel the beating of a second heart in their chest.
William wasn't planning to wait a year, but he also couldn't end it too quickly—he planned to wait a month first. If it didn't rain during this period, but he felt the second heart, he would just have the Room of Requirement rain. After all, it started in the Room of Requirement, so a little rain wouldn't count as cheating.
After completing all of this, William glanced at Lupin, who was thoroughly bored and filing his nails beside him, feeling speechless. The urge to complain, suppressed for a month, was now uncontrollable—