When Animagi transform into animals, they still retain nearly the same level of thinking ability, self-identity, and memories as when they are in human form.
Even if they live for long periods in animal form, they still possess the normal lifespan of a human.
In espionage missions and criminal activities, Animagi have a potential advantage. Professor McGonagall once transformed into a cat and closely observed Eda's life at the orphanage.
Because of this, the Ministry of Magic established an Animagus Registry. Including Professor McGonagall, only seven people are officially registered. Any unregistered Animagus, once discovered, is very likely to be sent to Azkaban.
This form of transfiguration is long and complicated, and any mistake in the process often leads to disastrous consequences. To become an Animagus, one must possess talent in both Transfiguration and Potions, and must strictly follow a series of complex and tedious steps.
The first step requires a Mandrake leaf. The leaf must be kept in the mouth for an entire month. If the leaf leaves the mouth at any time, it means all previous efforts are wasted and the entire process must start over.
At the second full moon, the leaf soaked in your saliva must be placed into a small transparent bottle and exposed to pure moonlight. Then add a strand of your hair, one teaspoon of pure dew, and the chrysalis of a Death's-head hawkmoth into the bottle.
The mixture must then be left in a quiet, dark place, ensuring it is not watched or disturbed, until the next thunderstorm arrives.
While waiting for the thunderstorm, the following action must be performed at every sunrise and sunset: point the tip of your wand at your heart and recite the incantation, "Amato, Animo, Animato, Animagus."
After Eda finished learning about the entire process of Animagus transformation, even she felt her scalp tingle at the complexity of the magic. Talent, effort, and opportunity were all indispensable.
Eda couldn't even accomplish the first step. What if, while eating or drinking, she accidentally swallowed the Mandrake leaf?
Young hero, please start over?
Eda felt that just the first step alone would completely crush her mentality. I truly can't do it!
And the process of waiting for the thunderstorm that followed could last for weeks, months, or even years. Not only did you have to make sure the small bottle wasn't exposed to sunlight and wasn't disturbed by anything from the outside, you also had to recite the spell to yourself twice a day, every day, without fail.
This was exactly why Eda had never been interested in becoming an Animagus, and why she had never considered it in her assumptions—because this kind of magic was simply too difficult.
Compared to that, Eda would rather believe that James and Sirius were just very good at fighting. After all, Sirius had been exaggerated into something like the second-in-command of the Death Eaters. Beating up a werewolf shouldn't be much of a problem.
If James and Sirius really had become unregistered Animagi, then it could only be said that they truly lived up to being the biological father and godfather of the Chosen One.
Talking about the luck of the fortunate to someone as unlucky as Eda was simply a very cruel thing.
There was only so much she could learn from books. The rest of her guesses would have to be verified by people who had actually known them—such as Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall.
In fact, Professor Lupin would be the best choice. He was probably the person who currently knew James and Sirius best.
But Eda felt somewhat hesitant—not only because of Dumbledore's warning, but also because she herself didn't want to tear open this professor's old wounds.
Every time he saw Harry, would Professor Lupin think of James Potter? Would he remember the joyful days the four of them once shared? And every time he heard the name Sirius Black, how much pain would Professor Lupin feel?
Revealing Professor Lupin's old wounds face to face felt to Eda even crueler than someone talking to her about luck.
Unless it was absolutely necessary, she didn't want to do such a thing. It wasn't because she was overly compassionate—it was simply the most basic kindness of being human.
As night grew deeper, people gradually left the library. Even Hermione Granger had gone. After returning the book to its place, Eda also left the library under Madam Pince's watchful gaze.
The corridor was empty, and only the sound of Eda's own footsteps echoed. The flickering torches stretched her shadow long across the walls, giving everything the feeling of a horror film.
Eda was just like those reckless heroines, wandering alone through a thousand-year-old castle. Perhaps some unknown terror would be waiting for her around the next corner.
But Eda didn't encounter any terror. Instead, she heard a faint sound of sobbing.
The sound was very quiet and intermittent. If the corridor hadn't been so silent at the moment, Eda probably wouldn't have noticed it.
Following the faint sobbing, Eda saw a figure curled up behind a statue. At the person's feet was an absurdly large schoolbag.
She had thought it was some student crying from too much pressure, but Eda didn't expect that the one crying so miserably was actually Hermione Granger.
Hearing the footsteps, Hermione immediately stopped sobbing. She raised her head and met Eda's searching gaze.
Miss Beaver hurriedly wiped the tears from her face and pretended to be strong as she greeted Eda. She said, "Hi, Eda. The weather's so nice—are you out for a walk too?"
But because she had just been crying, Hermione's voice trembled slightly when she spoke. When she wiped her tears, she ended up smearing her face like a little tabby cat. In the end, she was only a thirteen- or fourteen-year-old girl—she would have her fragile moments and would cry when she felt hurt and upset.
"I didn't know you'd started enjoying walks under the moonlight. Did that happen after you met Ron and Harry?" Eda asked with a smile.
Hearing the names Harry and Ron, the grievance in Hermione's heart surged up again. The tears she had just forced herself to stop now threatened to burst out once more. Sneaking off to cry in a corner was already embarrassing enough, but now someone had discovered her—and the person who discovered her was Eda. That made it even more embarrassing.
Hermione turned her head away in self-deception. She didn't want Eda to see her crying, and she didn't want to show her weakness to someone she regarded as a goal to catch up to.
Anyone would feel pity at the sight, let alone Eda. Hermione had shed her usual pride and was crying pitifully, and even Eda felt a little heartache seeing her like this.
What on earth were Ron and Harry doing? Had they eaten up all their emotional intelligence along with their meals? How could they leave Hermione here alone? Weren't they afraid that someone with bad intentions might take advantage of the situation?
Back in first year, the two of them weren't like this at all!
Eda crouched beside Hermione, took out a handkerchief, and handed it to her. In a gentle voice she said, "If something's making you unhappy, you might as well say it out loud. It's better than keeping it all bottled up inside and suffering alone."
The girl accepted the handkerchief and softly thanked her. After wiping away her tears once more, she slowly began to talk about the grievances in her heart.
This semester Hermione had chosen every course. At the beginning of the term, she could still handle the tightly packed schedule of classes. But as time went on and the pressure of studying kept increasing, Hermione gradually found it harder and harder to keep up.
The excessive pressure made Hermione more sensitive inside, and her temper had grown much more irritable. Unfortunately, the situation with Crookshanks and Scabbers happened at the same time. Ron's lack of understanding and his sarcastic remarks made Hermione feel deeply wronged.
The appearance of the Marauder's Map and the Firebolt only made things worse.
Hermione believed she hadn't done anything wrong. Compared to flying brooms and Quidditch, what she cared about more was the safety of her good friend. But neither Harry nor Ron understood her. Instead, they were very angry about her "snitching."
With a stomach full of grievances and pressure and no one to talk to, Hermione had no other choice but to hide by herself, cry quietly, and secretly lick her wounds.
"Why not give up one or two less important courses?" Eda suggested. "For example, Muggle Studies. We both come from Muggle society. Compared to the textbooks written by wizards, aren't we the ones who understand the current state of Muggle society better?"
Eda continued, "There's no need to feel troubled because of your background. Our origins aren't something we can decide. And there's no need to worry about how wizards view Muggles or try to cater to their opinions. That's a social phenomenon—it's not something we can change right now."
Hermione asked, "So that's why you only chose Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures."
"Actually, I only wanted to choose Ancient Runes," Eda said, spreading her hands. "Professor Babbling tells really great jokes! But there was no way around it—every student has to choose at least two electives."
Hermione lowered her fluffy head and said weakly, "There are too many things I want to learn. Maybe I'm just not confident enough…"
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