“…Mr. Potter? You mean Harry?”

Even though she had braced herself, Hermione hadn’t expected that answer.

She was stunned, even found it ridiculous. “You… you don’t want to be friends with me just because I get along with someone else? Are you a child or something?!”

Dawn chuckled. “I just hate trouble.”

“…Trouble?”

“That’s right.”

He nodded. “The boy the British wizarding world calls the Savior—he may carry glory, but along with that comes a future full of danger.”

Hermione couldn’t accept that explanation. “But… the Dark—Voldemort is already dead, isn’t he? Wasn’t he killed by Harry?”

“Heh. Who can say for sure?”

Dawn didn’t bother giving her a long explanation.

“Even if Voldemort is gone, there are still plenty of Death Eaters who support him. So it’s not hard to imagine how much trouble will follow the so-called Savior.”

“That’s it? That’s your whole reason?!” Hermione clenched her fists, clearly in disbelief. “What does ‘friendship’ even mean to you?!”

Dawn let out another sigh. “Miss Granger, could you please use a different word?”

He spread his hands helplessly. “Saying ‘friend, friend’ over and over—it’s starting to sound like some childish playground game.”

“Try to be more practical, Miss Granger.”

Dawn shook his head.

“If I can already foresee that the trouble far outweighs the benefit, then why would I choose to get involved with you at all?”

“Or,” Dawn said with a hint of mockery, “would you be willing to cut ties with Harry and then become… this so-called friend of mine?”

He offered the condition in a half-joking tone.

In truth, he did think highly of Hermione—she was smart, diligent, and capable of exploring the nature of magic with him.

But unfortunately…

What he wanted and what the so-called “Savior” wanted were completely different. He didn’t intend to waste his valuable time dealing with unnecessary complications.

Besides…

Even the ever-smiling Dumbledore certainly wouldn’t want him getting too close to Harry Potter.

Hermione remained silent.

Thunk—

The staircase came to an abrupt halt.

It slammed into the eighth-floor corridor with unstoppable force, shaking down clouds of dust from the ancient castle walls.

“Then… I suppose I can only say I’m sorry, Mr. Richter.”

Hermione raised her head. For the first time, she didn’t call him by his first name.

“I won’t cut ties with Harry.”

“Even if I don’t support fighting… this morning, when Malfoy called me a Mudblood in the Great Hall, the one who stood up in anger wasn’t you.”

Dawn gave a careless smile.

“No need to apologize. We’ve simply made different choices.”

He waved a hand dismissively and turned to ascend the staircase.

“Then, farewell, Miss Granger.”

“…Yes. Goodbye.”

Hermione replied in a quiet voice, stood still for a moment, then turned and walked down the stairs.

However—

Today, she suddenly didn’t feel like going to the library anymore.

Maybe, just for once…

Spending an afternoon in the common room, listening to Harry and Ron boast and bicker, wasn’t such a bad way to pass the time.

…….

The sun gradually dipped below the horizon.

The stars and moon lit up the empty ground.

And another day quietly came to an end.

Dawn, meanwhile, had been analyzing his toad’s division to sketch out diagrams related to physical traits, comparing them with his own body to look for similarities.

Hermione stayed in the Gryffindor common room, learning how to play wizard’s chess from Ron. With the redhead yelling in surprise every few minutes, she found herself locked in a balanced match with Harry, who was just as inexperienced as she was.

Who was right?

Who was wrong?

Perhaps—

It was all simply a footnote in the passing of time.

….

When Dawn next opened his eyes, it was already seven the next morning.

But as soon as he awoke, he sensed the dormitory was darker than usual—almost as if it were still the middle of the night.

He got up, pulled aside the curtain slightly, and peeked out the window.

Bright sunlight had been blocked by heavy curtains of clouds. The sky was layered with thick, leaden grays, and the daylight seemed to droop lower and lower.

Clearly, it was going to be a rainy day.

Dawn got dressed and left the dormitory, beginning his daily stair-climbing routine, twice a day without fail.

Compared to yesterday’s hustle and bustle, the castle was much quieter today.

Perhaps most of the younger students were scrambling to finish all of last week’s homework in a single day.

Passing by the library, Dawn casually borrowed a book on Transfiguration. After breakfast, he headed to the Room of Requirement, whiling away the time between reading and observing his toad.

Soon it was one in the afternoon.

Dawn packed up his things, preparing to attend the Transfiguration Club.

However, just before leaving, he hesitated to leave the toad alone—especially since when there was a creature inside, the Room of Requirement’s door handle would remain visible from the outside.

But with the toad’s current strange appearance, taking it into the club wasn’t a good idea either.

Staring at the large toad with a small one growing from its back, Dawn thought for a moment, then made a detour back to his dormitory. He placed the toad’s cage beneath his bedboard.

….

The eastern corridor of the third floor.

It wasn’t a place popular with young witches and wizards, because on the dark stone walls hung bronze lanterns shaped into fierce magical creatures.

Whenever someone passed by, the lamps would emit booming roars to scare them.

And when the centaur-shaped lamp suddenly greeted you in its thunderous voice, it was hard for any timid student not to jump out of their skin.

The Transfiguration Club was located here.

Dawn didn’t see any classrooms along the corridor.

But—

Just as Professor McGonagall had mentioned, this was merely a “small” test. Especially for someone like Dawn, who could see magical energy.

So it didn’t take him long to stop in front of a lantern shaped like a roaring fire-breathing dragon and reach for its slender neck.

This was the only one among the lanterns that had actually been created through Transfiguration.

The dragon lantern let out a choking cough, rattled for a moment, and then its body shifted—becoming a doorknob, warm in Dawn’s palm.

….

“Excellent! Let us welcome our new member!”

Upon opening the door, Professor McGonagall stood at the front, clapping her hands.

Behind her stood three older students, two boys and a girl.

From the colors on their robe collars and cuffs, it was clear that aside from Hufflepuff, there was one member each from the remaining three houses.

At her instruction, each of them gave a short introduction, but their names were unfamiliar and didn’t appear in the original stories, so Dawn didn’t pay them much attention.

“Alright, everyone, don’t just stand around. Take your seats! Dawn, your spot is over there.”

Professor McGonagall pointed to a place near the fireplace.

Unlike standard classrooms, the Transfiguration Club room lacked lecture platforms and had a far more cozy atmosphere.

It felt more like a tea party. Five plush chairs were arranged around a round table, and next to each chair was a small rack for storing newspapers and journals.

“Children, put down today’s Transfiguration papers for now!”

Seeing one boy pull out a newspaper, Professor McGonagall gently raised her hand to stop him.

“Let’s set aside Mr. Julian’s article for today and talk instead about something more interesting—how about the topic of Animagi?”

Animagi?

The three older students seemed caught off guard.

“Yes, Animagi,” Professor McGonagall confirmed, spreading out the materials she had collected and organized the day before.

“Yesterday, Mr. Richter brought up a rather insightful idea. He believes that certain principles behind Animagi might help us solve the problem of why Transfiguration spells can’t be made permanent.”

“What are your thoughts on that?”

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