To be fair, the Hogwarts library was much larger than it looked from the outside.

Just the books related to Transfiguration numbered in the hundreds, many of which were rare and unavailable on the outside market.

[Transfiguration: From Basic to Advanced]

[The Dangers of Transfiguration: Bone Morphing]

[Transfiguration Mishap Files]

[Advanced Applications of Transfiguration: Its Relation to the Vanishing Spell]

And so on.

There was even a rack nearby filled with every issue of “Today’s Transfiguration”, and one could even find articles penned by a much younger Dumbledore in those pages.

But after skimming through the titles, Dawn quickly realized that books related to Animagus transformation were few and far between.

Had they been removed from the shelves due to the potential danger they posed to young wizards?

As he pondered this, Dawn reached out and pulled a book titled [Animagus: A Wizard’s Delusion] from the shelf. He opened it while standing beside the bookcase.

“We are arrogant wizards!”

“Because we wish to control everything!”

“We dream of being omnipotent!”

“But! Sadly, we must face the truth that we are not the only favored beings in this world!”

“In this world, many magical creatures share the power of magic with us.”

“Dragons with immense strength and flame-resistance, Thestrals that can only be seen after witnessing death, and Thunderbirds that can sense storms and summon lightning…”

“From the moment we laid eyes on them, we couldn’t help but become deeply curious about their magic.”

“We coveted their mysterious power, attempting to claim it for ourselves through transfiguration.”

“But…”

“After countless painful failures, we managed only to create an incomplete transformation spell—Animagus.”

That was the end of the preface.

What followed was the actual method of becoming an Animagus—

In summary, it involved holding a mandrake leaf in one’s mouth for an entire month, keeping it soaked in saliva and exposed to moonlight.

Then it had to be combined with a strand of hair, dew, and a chrysalis of the Death’s-head Hawkmoth.

This concoction was to be buried in a quiet, dark place and left there until the next thunderstorm. Before that, the wizard had to point their wand at their heart and recite an incantation every day.

When lightning finally split the sky, the potion had to be consumed to initiate the transformation.

Even though Dawn had read about this in dreams of the original story, now that he was in the real world, he took no chances and read the process carefully again.

Unfortunately, the book didn’t explain why this potion enabled permanent transformation. It only listed various failed attempts and causes for the potion’s ineffectiveness.

As he flipped through the pages, Dawn began to wonder whether he should first try to brew the Animagus potion himself.

Not necessarily to drink it.

But perhaps— He might be able to analyze something from its magical structure?

Still, there was no rush. He’d save it for the weekend.

Dawn returned the book to the shelf and picked out another one, [Advanced Transfiguration: Flesh and Blood], then sat down to read it attentively.

……

Time flew by.

The next day arrived in the blink of an eye. There were two classes that morning.

One was Flying Class, shared with Hufflepuff.

It was, in a word, uneventful. There were no thrilling accidents like the one Harry experienced in the original story.

Throughout the whole class, Dawn followed instructions—summoning the broom repeatedly and practicing flying at a height of less than ten meters.

It was his first time flying on a broomstick. To be honest, he didn’t seem to have much talent for it.

He felt none of that “oneness with the broom” others described. What he did do most was memorize the runic structure inside the broom’s shaft.

He had now added another task for the weekend—to attempt repairs on the broken alchemical item in his possession.

…….

The second class of the morning was History of Magic, held together with Slytherin.

It was taught by a ghost professor. Dawn didn’t listen to a single word, spending the entire lesson reading his transfiguration book.

Since there were no unpleasant smells in this class, he figured it was a better experience than Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Although throughout the lesson, he could feel an intense, hostile gaze burning into his back.

No need to guess—it had to be Draco!

After two hours of monotonous reading from the ghostly teacher, the morning classes finally ended.

But his day wasn’t over yet.

First period after lunch was Potions, again with Hufflepuff.

…….

Severus Snape.

Head of Slytherin House.

Potions Master.

A man with greasy long hair, a hooked nose, dressed in billowing black robes, and walked like a bat.

Because of the original story, Dawn held no prejudice against him. He knew Snape was a tragic figure—cold on the outside, but warm within, a man who loved and lost.

But—

That impression didn’t survive past the first class.

“Dawn Richter! Tell me, what should be done with moonstone when brewing a Forgetfulness Potion?”

“Grind it into coarse chunks, heat it in a cauldron to about 40°C, then drizzle in dew and stir until it melts,” Dawn replied.

“Also, [Secrets of Ingredients] mentions that exposing the moonstone to moonlight during grinding can enhance the potion’s effect.”

Snape’s expression didn’t change as he continued:

“What precautions must be taken when brewing a Waking Draught?”

“When squeezing the Sleep Beans, only the juice is needed. Including the fibrous tissue will turn the potion into a powerful sleeping draft.”

“In the process of brewing a Calming Draught, if the potion turns blue, what went wrong? What is the remedy?”

Dawn frowned in thought.

This was also first-year material, but he hadn’t brewed a Calming Draught himself.

However, based on the theory in [Potions and Precision], if the potion didn’t show violent reactions but only changed color, the issue was likely the stirring direction.

Just as he opened his mouth to answer—

Snape sneered. “I don’t need a book-memorizing drone in my class! Without practical skill, you’re no different from a troll!”

Targeted!

Dawn furrowed his brow, staring at Snape’s eyes filled with unmasked contempt. He was now absolutely sure of it.

But… why?

He pondered in confusion.

Did Dumbledore say something? The old headmaster’s face flashed through his mind, but Dawn quickly shifted his attention to Draco Malfoy.

If Dumbledore said he’d shield him from the Malfoy family’s retaliation, then without a doubt, Draco must’ve tattled at home.

That would mean Lucius Malfoy had written to Draco’s godfather—Snape.

Because of that prank?

Dawn tapped his index finger against the table, his eyes narrowing.

Damn. That’s right…

Snape had been publicly humiliated by Harry’s father, James Potter, during school—hoisted into the air upside-down and exposed in front of the girl he loved.

That trauma had probably haunted him for life!

And Dawn had burned off Draco’s clothes and hoisted him up in front of everyone…

“Why aren’t you paying attention in class?! Do you think my lessons are a waste of your time?!”

Snape glared at Dawn with a shadowy look and barked, “Because of your behavior, Ravenclaw loses ten points!”

________________

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