78 78: A tea full of questions

After some contemplation, Alaric sat up and flicked his wand. The tome closed itself and flew to a hole in the stone brick wall, sealed by another greyish brick right after. As much as he liked the twins, he didn't want them snooping around his research.

The used ink jar vanished simultaneously, and the little droplets that escaped Alaric's quill onto the wooden table evaporated. It left Beatrice chirping happily in the middle of a now-spotless table.

"I hope you don't mind passing as my pet," Alaric said, gently lifting the bird in his uninjured hand. "At least until I can figure out who you truly are,"

Whether Beatrice heard or not, Alaric wasn't sure. She was too busy cleaning her feathers. But she didn't seem bothered by the arrangement. 

__________

The next day, Alaric emerged from a steamy bathroom. He dressed in a mix of his Quidditch robes and Slytherin's uniform. It wasn't the end of the world, but he felt weird being a spectator instead of a player.

He had woken up early — not as early as Blaise and Theodore — but the halls were already bustling with green and red students. Most stopped to say 'hello', even some of the Gryffindors, and few steered clear from his path. Alaric hadn't thought much about it this year, but the students were friendlier than his first year at Hogwarts. 

By now, his two roommates were probably down at the Quidditch field putting some last-minute practice in, while here he was... taking a seat on the almost full Slytherin table for a hearty breakfast. Did Alaric feel bad? Kind of. It was his fault that he got injured. But at the same time, Beatrice was more important than a simple Quidditch match. His research and work weren't just a hobby. 

Speaking of which, he wondered what the Maledictus was doing now. He'd given her free rein in the dorm room but locked every window and the door in hopes she'd behave. A fake order from a pet store still needed to be forged to have the bird walk around with him; otherwise, the professors would be suspicious. 

Alaric could show them Beatrice, but he couldn't risk having her taken away from him. What started as curiosity strong enough to fight a band of poachers gave Alaric something that could prove essential for the future: a cure for ancient blood curses. 

He spent a leisurely hour munching on some toast — four slices, each liberally coated with a different spread. Alaric had not been stingy — and coming up with excuses he could use to avoid detention with Snape later that day. Alaric had only had detention once after Professor Sprout found him and the Weasley twins playing magic poker with the house elves in the kitchen. Having to trim Venomous Tentacula leaves without magic wasn't exactly fun. He imagined that, with Snape, he'd be scrubbing cauldrons until dawn.

The image of filthy bubbling cauldrons was interrupted by the sound of someone sitting in front of Alaric. He looked up from his plate and saw his sister. She had a cheeky smile, the kind of smile someone has when they win at something. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail, held by a red and yellow lion pin, and each of her cheeks had two stripes of the same colour. 

"Having breakfast alone, are you?" She said. Her eyes stared intently at Alaric as if daring him to leave. 

"You truly have the talent for stating the obvious, Lysandra," Alaric said, cleaning his lips with a napkin. "Need something?" 

"Apart from the obvious, no, not really," She shrugged. Despite the disgusted glares she was getting from most of the other Slytherins, Lysandra remained nonchalant, casually sipping from the orange juice she brought and looking at her brother. "How's your hand?"

"Better. Madam Pomfrey said I could stop using bandages in about—"

"Two weeks," Lysandra finished for him. "I know," 

"Why ask then?"

"Can't I just talk with you?"

They stared at each other for a while, not saying a word. Alaric knew very well what she wanted to talk about. But did he want to? Finally, after Alaric finished the rest of his toast, Lysandra tried to speak. 

"I'm sor—"

"Look, I know I've been a prick, but can we talk about this later?" Alaric interrupted. "I need to pop by McGonagall's office before the match."

"Oh, alright," Lysandra said. She seemed disappointed, but at least she wasn't as sad as she had been the last few days. "Wait, why are you stopping by Professor McGonagall's office?"

Alaric gave her a smile he knew she didn't like — the one that pretty much spelt "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Fine, don't tell me then!" She grumbled and crossed her arms. Alaric had forgotten how much he liked to mess with her. 

"Meet me in the Astronomy tower at midnight," He said as he sat up. "We can have our talk then,"

"Promise me you'll be there?" Lysandra asked, looking down at the ground. 

"Have I ever broken a promise?" He chuckled.

__________

Alaric hurried through the Great Hall's doors into the corridor, which was just as busy with students rushing back and forth, preparing their banners and team sweaters. Peeves, caught up in the excitement, had found out wherever Filch stored the toilet roll and was flinging wads of wet tissue at anyone who got close enough. 

Wand over his head to deflect any shots at him, Alaric scurried towards McGonagall's office just as Peeves fired at the door. Alaric ducked just in time, and Peeves flew off laughing maniacally as McGonagall — having heard the very loud 'SPLAT' — opened her office door. She peered down at Alaric, still squatting and protecting his head with his wand. 

"Mr Grindelwald."

"It was Peeves!" He stood up quickly and waved his wand at the mess, vanishing it. "Honestly, Professor!"

"Great wandwork. And I believe you," She gave a small smile. "Spirits are always high on the day of a match, especially a Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Have you got something for me?" The old teacher glanced at the parchment he was clutching. 

"I do. It's about Transfiguration," He stuck out his hand. 

"Of course. I wouldn't expect someone to come to me with Divination questions. Do come in, Grindelwald,"

He had hoped he could have just given her the paper and marched off to the Quidditch field, and then discuss his questions at a later date, but you could hardly say 'no' to McGonagall or ask her if it could wait until later. Also, he wondered what on earth had her in such a good mood. She had one of those silly smiles one had when extremely satisfied. Surely it wasn't because of him not playing in the Quidditch match, right?

"Sit down, Mr Grindelwald. Black Tea, right?"

"You know me, professor," Alaric sat, still uneasy. McGonagall waved her wand, and the little tartan teapot on her desk began to pour its contents into two matching tea cups.

"Help yourself to milk," the professor said absentmindedly as she scanned the piece of parchment he'd given her. "Similarities between..."

"Maledictuses and Animagi," Alaric finished for her. 

McGonagall hummed, continuing to read everything Alaric had written. He didn't say anything. She looked up, finally, surveying him over the tops of her square spectacles. 

"Quite an interesting topic, I must say," She said, giving the parchment back to Alaric. "And I admit, I'm interested to know what prompted you to study this case, in particular?"

"Er..." Alaric stammered. He thought he'd have more time to come up with an excuse, so he wasn't exactly prepared. Albus had advised him to refrain from revealing his 'special talent' to more people than necessary, so he couldn't just tell her. "I — well... I was in the library the other day, and—"

"The restricted section, perhaps? I heard from the headmaster you still have your pass from last year,"

"Indeed. As I was saying, I was in the restricted section, and I came across this very... interesting paper about long Animagi transformations, where some of the studied cases had been under the transformation for up to half a decade. After studying it, well, I couldn't help but notice the similar characteristics between some blood curses that permanently turn one into an animal,"

Professor McGonagall crossed her fingers in contemplation. After a while, she looked with a proud smile at Alaric. 

"I see you've been doing your research outside of the school curriculum," She said, more kindly than he'd expected. "As for the topic, that's something widely debated in scholar circles. You see, Transfiguration, in essence, apart from some exceptions, has the same base magic for every spell cast. Whether you're transfiguring mice into a slipper, or a pipe into a cactus, the wizard or witch doing the spell has to have a basic understanding of both creatures/objects."

"That I know, yes," Alaric said. He had conjured a quill and started writing on the back of the parchment. "But what I don't understand is—"

"I'm getting there, Alaric," She chuckled softly. "When it comes to human transfiguration — which we will cover in the sixth year — the process is the same. One needs to have a basic understanding of the human body and the thing they want to transfigure it to, be it stone, wood, or... an animal. Of course, in this branch of transfiguration, there are a lot of other sub-branches, such as Animagi and... curses,"

"Then..."

"Then, it means Maledictus — or, at least, the ones that turn the victim into an animal — are considered Transfiguration magic. Not only that, having seen at least two cases of the curse in my life, according to them and some other witnesses, the process is quite similar to an Animagi ritual,"

"The difference being one has the option to transform back, and the other doesn't," Alaric said.

"Precisely,"

Alaric looked at the stone floor, deep in thought. Coming to Professor McGonagall had been the right idea. She had the answers Alaric would probably have spent weeks searching for. 

"However," McGonagall continued, "while these two cases show a lot of similarities, so does any sort of animal transfiguration. Relying solely on sensory magic and diagnostic spells, it is quite hard to distinguish a dog with transfigured teeth and an Animagus or Maledictus. Discarding the rituals, the process of transfiguring an animal is extremely similar to an Animagus transforming willingly and a Maledictus transforming unwillingly."

"Hypothetically, how would someone distinguish the three cases?" Alaric asked. 

"By taking samples, of course. Forcing each sample to revert to their previous state would allow you to label each case," She said. "Now, I think I've answered enough of your questions, have I not? Can I take a turn now?"

"By all means, professor,"

"Good. Have you thought about my proposal to enrol in Muggle Studies? Every student's feedback about Professor Potter has been nothing short of amazing," 

Alaric knew it was coming. He reclined on his chair, mixed some milk in his tea, and looked straight into the professor's eyes. 

"I believe my time would be wasted there," He said in a clear voice. 

"Is it because none of your friends is taking the class apart from your sister? I know one of the most wonderful things about school, Alaric," McGonagall began, tactfully, "Is the friends we make — connections and relationships that last a lifetime. I know you have made some very dear friends at Hogwarts,"

Alaric fought a grimace. Did she have to make it sound so girly?! She cleared her throat, clearly amused by his reaction. "Some very dear friends. But school is also the place to challenge ourselves, to test our mettle, and to expand our knowledge, even about subjects one would deem 'boring'. Do you understand?"

He nodded, blankly. She sighed, sipping her tea. 

"Your exam results were excellent last year, Alaric. The best this school ever had in the last sixty years,"

He straightened up a little at that. While he was sure the difficulty would keep progressing, last year's exams were easy. Still, he didn't mind the praise. 

"As such," McGonagall continued. "Professor Snape and I had no concerns in permitting you to study whichever subject you'd like this year, even if you'd wanted to take them all. But I would question whether Muggle Studies is a subject you should be discarding. On the contrary, I think it will prove quite suitable for you in your time going forward. You might find it very dull in the beginning, I'm afraid, but the later contents are extremely interesting,"

Alaric twisted his hand in his lap. Ok, he admitted, he might've taken a peek at the subject material and found some of it to be worth the time, but he had so much on his plate... could he afford to spare some of his already non-existent free time? 

"I still need to think about it, professor," He said after a while. "How about I tell you my answer tomorrow? We have a game to watch in about fifteen minutes,"

"Oh, Merlin! Is it time already?" McGonagall exclaimed. "We should hurry then! It's about time my Lions finally win a cup!"

**********

I didn't have writer's block or any of that... I've just been playing too many games in my free time without exams. My bad :P

Hope you enjoyed the chapter!