Hearing McGonagall's explanation, Harry nodded in realization.
"Ah, yes, the Ministry of Magic. I forgot about them again."
He paused before cautiously continuing, "Perhaps I could… skip registering with the Ministry?"
"I understand your reasoning, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said, her expression growing stern. "But that's not acceptable—not only out of respect for the Ministry but also out of respect for others."
She continued, "Before the law requiring Animagus registration, there were far more Animagi than there are now. So wizards would use their animal forms to spy on others' private lives. Harry, I trust you wouldn't do such a thing, but not everyone will believe that."
Harry followed her logic and completed the thought aloud: "There will always be people who doubt my intentions."
McGonagall nodded.
"But Professor Dumbledore surely knows how to transform into an Animagus, doesn't he?" Harry asked, seizing the opportunity. "And as far as I know, he's not listed in the Ministry's registry."
McGonagall froze for a mont, pursing her lips. "I've never seen him use Animagus magic."
"Not seeing doesn't an he can't," Harry pressed, determined to argue his point.
McGonagall tightened her grip on her wand, her voice softening in an unsettling way. "Harry, it's not that I don't want to hold Albus accountable. It's that I can't."
"As Deputy Headmistress, all I can do is offer advice," she said with a resigned sigh.
Sensing the tension, Harry quickly nodded. "Understood, Professor. Let think this over carefully."
McGonagall's gaze remained serious, as it had been the day she first t him at Hogwarts' oak doors.
"Harry, if I find out you've beco an unregistered Animagus, I'll personally make sure you go to the Ministry to rectify it."
After excusing himself, Harry left the office, knowing McGonagall was not the right ally for this.
Perhaps Dumbledore? As the forr Transfiguration professor and McGonagall's ntor in Animagus magic, he would certainly be knowledgeable. But Dumbledore's belief in the Ministry was even stronger than McGonagall's.
That left Sirius.
Or perhaps Remus. Though Remus wasn't an Animagus, his close friendship with Jas and Sirius likely ant he had so insight.
Returning to his dorm, Harry wrote a letter to Sirius.
Sirius responded quickly. If there was one thing Sirius was confident about, it was Animagus magic. During his years in Azkaban, Sirius had relied on his Animagus form to survive—curled up in a corner of his cell, thinking with a dog's simpler mind to withstand the Dentors.
His constant review of Animagus knowledge had kept him sane and prevented him from being consud by his animal instincts.
With Sirius's guidance secured, Harry turned his attention to Gryffindor's trial.
Friday night, Harry packed his belongings and prepared as thoroughly as possible. He strapped on the Sorting Hat and left the dormitory without concealing his departure.
The Gryffindors watched him leave in silence.
"Co back by Monday. Professor Trelawney said she has a new prophecy about you," Hermione said anxiously, biting her lip. "Even if you don't pass the trial, your safety is the most important thing."
The Sorting Hat mumbled, "Miss Granger, do you think Gryffindor's trial is as dangerous as the Chamber of Secrets?"
"There was a Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets," Hermione argued. "Without proper precautions, even the Heir would die from direct eye contact with it, wouldn't they?"
"Godric wasn't Salazar. He was much kinder," the Hat countered.
Hermione shook her head, unconvinced.
The Hat pressed on, "And Harry isn't the only student to attempt this trial in the last thousand years. Four or five centuries ago, a particularly gifted student—brilliant, even more so than Albus—drew Gryffindor's sword, broke into the Slytherin common room, and stole a portrait, injuring the Head of Slytherin House in the process."
"That sounds very… Gryffindor," Harry muttered dryly.
The Hat chuckled. "Indeed. But because that student wasn't prepared, they failed the trial. However, they returned safely to Hogwarts, suffering only from exhaustion and minor injuries."
"'Minor injuries'?" Hermione latched onto the phrasing.
"Even soone better than Dumbledore failed?" Ron exclaid.
Harry waved a hand dismissively. "No one gets through completely unscathed. As long as the injuries aren't fatal, it's fine."
The Hat reassured Ron, "That student's skill was remarkable at the ti, but not greater than Dumbledore's now."
Ron nodded, relieved.
Harry smiled faintly. "He must've been like Sirius—thinking the trial ended the mont he reached the Forbidden Forest."
The Hat cackled. "Harry, you're quite perceptive. Forgive for not divulging details, but you're getting warr."
Hermione bit her lip harder as Harry turned to leave.
"Harry, our Lion King, we'll wait for you to return!" George called out, raising a fist dramatically.
Fred joined in, rallying the younger Gryffindors.
"Please, not that nickna," Harry muttered, waving them off before stepping out of the common room.
At the edge of the Forbidden Forest, Harry glanced back at the castle. He could feel the eyes of three individuals watching him.
With a determined stride, he entered the forest, crunching over patches of lingering snow.
Following a pre-planned route, he passed the centaur camp, traversed the unicorn's territory, and halted near the Acromantula's domain. Judging his bearings by the direction of the tree branches, he turned northwest.
But before he could take more than a few steps, the faint sound of clicking reached his ears.
He froze, turning toward the noise.
The rustling of bristly legs brushing against bark and leaves grew louder.
It wasn't just one spider.
His brows furrowed. Were the Acromantulas expanding their territory again?
Their voracious reproduction demanded ever more resources, and their domain had already grown significantly since Harry's second year.
Deciding not to provoke them, he opted to take a longer detour. But the clicking followed him—growing louder, more nurous.
This ti, the sound ca from all directions.
The Acromantulas had surrounded him.
"Co out," Harry called, readying his wand as he cast a Shield Charm and donned magical armor. "I know you understand ."
A thick strand of web shot from the shadows, and Harry sidestepped it deftly. With a wave of his wand, two nearby trees twisted into massive serpents, their bark infused with Basilisk essence from his hat.
The spiders hesitated.
"Don't run! That's a trick! Those aren't real Basilisks!" one Acromantula hissed hoarsely.
Its companions hesitated, but the leader barked an order: "Attack them! Quickly!"
Reluctantly, a few smaller spiders sward the conjured serpents, overwhelming them and tearing them apart.
"See? They're fake!" the leader crowed.
Harry raised his wand.
"Incendio Maxima!"
Flas roared to life, consuming the nearest spiders in an instant.
With another wave, the fire split into dozens of serpents, slithering after the fleeing creatures.
The Acromantulas sprayed webbing to extinguish the flas, their sheer numbers barely holding the fire at bay. But many continued their relentless advance toward Harry.
Drawing the Basilisk Fang Sword, Harry stepped forward, the blade glinting in the moonlight as he danced through the swarm.
Each swing was precise, cutting through legs and bodies, leaving venomous wounds in his wake.
Half an hour later, with dozens of Acromantulas slain, the survivors finally retreated in panic.
Harry lowered his blade, his chest rising and falling heavily. With a final wave of his wand, he encircled the area in protective flas and tapped the Sorting Hat.
"Stop singing."
"Every heroic battle needs a ballad!" the Hat retorted indignantly.
Ignoring it, Harry stared at the distant, unseen castle. "The castle's protections have severed during the trial?"
The Hat nodded. "Indeed. Students cannot grow under constant shelter. Trials are ant to challenge."
"Rowena made a pact with the forest's creatures a thousand years ago," it added. "No creature here may kill a Hogwarts student."
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Powerstones?
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