Chapter 111 — What the Shape Could Carry

On Monday I handed Snape his essays and asked McGonagall for a private conversation. Hermione came with me, though I began before either of us could settle into a more comfortable account. ‘I completed the transformation yesterday,’ I said, keeping my hands away from the notes I had brought to explain it.

‘You attempted it.’ McGonagall set down her quill and waited for me to acknowledge the distinction. ‘Where?’ I described the room and my discovery of it, then explained Hermione’s presence. McGonagall took her account separately, stopping either of us from answering for the other.

Questions about the bodily changes made the minutes on the mat seem longer again. She repeated a lion when I named the form, then checked that the first return required three attempts. I confirmed both before she sat back and looked at the notes she had made.

‘Learning the transformation is a considerable achievement, Mr Mercer. You’ve also shown why I required that review.’ I had wanted her to acknowledge the first part, but hearing it did little to remove the second. When I said I knew, she reminded me that I knew on Saturday. I could agree without finding a useful way to improve the answer.

‘I agreed to help him,’ Hermione said when McGonagall returned to her part in it. ‘We had the message ready. I knew we hadn’t shown you the arrangements.’ She put the unused parchment on the desk, and McGonagall checked its intact corner before keeping it. The precautions did not erase the decision, she told us, assigning both of us detention and sending me to Pomfrey before discussing further practice.

‘You will not practise alone,’ McGonagall said. ‘And do not mistake any subsequent instruction for approval of what happened yesterday.’ I agreed without finding anything worth arguing with in the distinction. Registration followed, bringing me back to the privacy I had wanted before learning to walk properly in the form.

‘I wanted to keep it private for now,’ I admitted. Describing the lion for a Ministry file felt intrusive after having it for less than a day. ‘I haven’t even learned to walk properly in it.’

‘You may choose whom you tell among your friends. The required record is another matter,’ McGonagall replied. She brought the papers closer without pushing them at me. I had come to admit what I did, and preserving another omission would make a poor beginning. I agreed to complete them with her help and Emma’s knowledge.

Before leaving, I opened the map with brush and password. There was another consequence of finding the room, I said, showing where Hermione watched my name disappear as I entered and return when I emerged. McGonagall already knew the map had limitations. This gave us a particular place to examine rather than another warning about unknown gaps.

Pomfrey found no new injury requiring treatment. She still ordered a quiet evening and no immediate repetition, which I obeyed while Hermione returned the unused medical supplies. Following one instruction was considerably easier than explaining the previous breach. That afternoon we showed McGonagall the tapestry, three passes and appearing door.

She examined the room while we remained with her, asking us to repeat our tests and making her own notes. She would take the information to Dumbledore for the search arrangements, she said. We found nobody we had not brought inside; the visit established nothing more about where Black might have been. McGonagall left me the map, which I closed before putting away.

Lupin’s reply arrived while I worked with my feet on a spare chair. He was sorry about Harry’s fall and wanted to see us once he recovered, beginning with our memories and the practical arrangements. Regular casting sessions were proposed after Christmas, when he could set aside time and prepare a controlled exercise. Meanwhile, he included work and asked us to report further difficulties promptly.

‘After Christmas,’ Harry said, finding that part before he finished the page. I pointed out the earlier meeting and watched him read the note again. ‘I know. I just wanted—’ He folded it carefully, leaving the proposed work between us. Neither of us needed him to finish the sentence.

Once Lupin recovered, we met and described the match. He asked Harry about the moments before falling, then worked through the memory exercise with both of us. We left understanding the recollection better and with an appointment for the first week back. I wanted to throw a prepared strip and see a result, but this stage still required quieter work.

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My next Animagus attempt was quieter too. After rest and Pomfrey’s permission to resume, McGonagall watched in the room I found while I deliberately recalled the lion. The change came slowly enough for me to feel a hesitation before settling into it. Four paws reached the mat, and I stayed still until balance seemed dependable.

Returning was slow, but this time I kept the human shape clear without losing my way and beginning again. McGonagall made me rest before describing it, then explained what the next practice would build on. She had not found the room or made the first change for me. She could still see mistakes I was occupied with making, and I began appreciating how much that might help.

Detentions offered less encouragement. Hermione and I spent the appointed evenings organising classroom materials beneath McGonagall’s supervision, with time to consider how much our earlier confidence had omitted. The work ended when she considered it finished, regardless of which question about the lion I wanted to pursue next.

Registration took less time than I feared. McGonagall checked the description against the form she observed, and I wrote to Emma myself instead of leaving an official envelope to explain it. By the time the registration acknowledgement arrived, supervised practice had made changing and returning steadier. I filed the acknowledgement among my papers while keeping the lion out of common-room conversation.

Questions remained about running, moving outside and carrying my equipment. My clothes and watch changed with me, but the pouch possessed a substantial enchantment of its own. I wrote that question on a fresh page and listed what would need removing before any test. The list grew until it included everything I habitually trusted the pouch to carry.

Empty, it looked smaller than it ought. Brush, map, paper, notebooks and small containers occupied a separate table behind McGonagall, leaving leather with the fastening I once repaired by hand. She examined the interior before returning it, reminding me that the test might damage the object.

‘That’s why it’s empty,’ I said. The leather hung loosely between my hands, stripped of the weight I was accustomed to trusting. I could see every item removed from it without having to reach for anything.

‘That is one reason,’ McGonagall replied. ‘The other is that I do not wish to discover what charged talismans do inside a container failing around your body.’ I looked at the covered strips and agreed, grateful we had discussed the experiment before I fastened the pouch.

We had evidence for ordinary clothing and accessories, with none showing how the pouch’s enchantment would behave during the same change. McGonagall cleared the space and stood beyond the mat, placing protection between it and the equipment table. Hermione watched beside her while I secured the empty pouch at my waist.

I reached for the lion. The change came more readily now, letting me settle my forepaws and find the altered balance before something pulled sharply against my side. A crack split the quiet, followed by a hard tug as though somebody caught the strap and jerked it away. Pieces of lining flew across the mat.

One fragment struck the protection by the table and fell. Others scattered around me with a pattering sound while I flinched and remained where I was. McGonagall told me to keep still, studying both my body and the torn strap before instructing me to return. I did it slowly, unwilling to let the surprise become another mistake.

The fastening dropped in front of my knees. Once allowed to move, I picked it up and found my repaired loop attached to a small piece of leather, with most of its former usefulness scattered nearby. McGonagall checked that I was unhurt before letting us examine it. ‘Well,’ I said, turning the remnant over, ‘that’s an answer.’

‘An observation,’ she corrected. ‘We still need an explanation.’ She indicated the scattered lining, and I set down the fastening where we found it instead of beginning to arrange the pieces into the shape I remembered.

The pouch had begun changing with me, and something in its enchantment failed. Its expanding space might have collapsed or resisted the transformation, but looking at torn lining could not decide the mechanism. We had seen enough to reject repeating the experiment with my belongings inside, whatever explanation later proved right.

Hermione recorded where the fragments landed. I helped gather them into an ordinary box after McGonagall checked them, occasionally recognising a piece without seeing how it fitted beside another. Nothing on the equipment table had moved. The map remained intact, my brush whole and the prepared paper secure in its covers.

Repairing leather would not restore the damaged enchantment. I would need a replacement for ordinary use and better understanding before taking such a container through another change. That evening I wrote to Tom with the capacity required and authorised a reasonable equivalent. Until it arrived, an ordinary bag held a smaller selection, making me choose what I actually needed before going anywhere.

The replacement came properly packed with its cost included. I checked it as a boy and kept it for a boy’s work, with no assumption that looking similar to the old pouch offered a different result. The failed experiment stayed in its box beside the notes, where it could remain useful without carrying anything again.