Just like tossing a stone into a lake—after the ripples fade, everything returns to calm.

The soft scratching of a quill echoed across the parchment—

In conclusion, if the basic healing potion is brewed following the standard steps, it will release blue steam and yield a silvery-white liquid.

However, if an excessive amount of Moondew juice is added, the basic healing potion will turn into a transparent, slightly sour-tasting strong adhesive.

But if noticed before the flame is turned off, adding an appropriate amount of beetle shell and stirring counterclockwise four and a half times can neutralize the Moondew juice and salvage the failed potion.

Dawn paused, quill still in hand, and glanced at the word count he’d written.

After the mix-up during the first week when he forgot to do his homework, he’d gotten into the habit of finishing it the day it was assigned.

Transfiguration and Charms homework were manageable—he was mostly excused from those. But Potions was another matter. The essays were growing longer by the day.

Today’s Potions assignment was to write out the brewing process and recovery method for the basic healing potion.

Perhaps because Ravenclaw and Gryffindor shared this class, and under the combined influence of both Harry and Dawn, Snape had gone mad and assigned a thirty-inch essay to first-years.

…

After adding a few final words, Dawn wrapped up his homework.

He massaged his wrist and lifted his head, suddenly realizing he had already spent over a month in the castle.

In that time, Snape’s dislike for him had only grown stronger. Every class was a battleground.

Just a week ago, he had been docked 73 points in a single session, enraging Professor Flitwick, who personally confronted Snape about it.

Besides that—

Dawn had attended four more sessions of the Transfiguration Club.

Though they no longer focused on Animagus transformation, his skills in transfiguration had nonetheless improved significantly.

One notable event—

A Slytherin boy named Avery had invited him to his family’s Christmas ball during the holidays.

To be honest, though also from one of the 28 Sacred Pure-Blood Houses, Avery was far more courteous than Malfoy.

Perhaps… it was because he was older?

“Hey, kid!”

Just as Dawn was zoning out, a sharp voice snapped him back to reality.

A portrait, flipped to face the wall, shouted angrily, “Turn me over! It’s too dark—I can’t see anything!”

“My apologies, Miss Carter.”

Dawn sighed softly. “But you have to understand, boys my age need a little privacy.”

“This is my room!”

“Well, it was,” Dawn replied casually as he let the ink on his homework dry.

He fed the three-headed, twelve-legged toad a bit of food, then walked over and turned the portrait back around.

“Why not visit another frame for a while? I remember that under certain conditions, you portraits can travel between paintings.”

“This frame only connects to the Carter estate’s manor… and I don’t want to go back there!”

“Why not? Your father seemed to treat you quite well, at least from what I read in the diary,” Dawn asked.

Though he didn’t expect an answer.

Over the past month, he had learned that this girl, Olivia, for reasons unknown, refused to talk about anything related to her family.

And—

Aemon hadn’t been acting right either. Ever since he sent that letter home, he had been avoiding Dawn.

Hmm…

Maybe he should try putting the two Carters together sometime. Who knows? It might lead to something interesting.

Lost in thought again, Dawn stared at the now-silent, blonde girl and quietly turned the portrait back to face the wall.

At that moment—

Clack!

The desk he’d used to write his homework transformed back into a stone under the dissipating magic and dropped to the floor with a thud.

Dawn picked up everything that had fallen, packed his things, and left the room.

As he passed the fifth-floor corridor window, he glanced at the setting sun, tilting toward the horizon. A strange sense of anticipation stirred in his chest.

It had been exactly one month since he started keeping the Mandrake leaf in his mouth. And tonight, under the full moon, he would brew the potion to assist his transformation.

….

He stared at the golden sky for a while.

Then Dawn turned and headed to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom on the third floor.

This class was also shared between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. He arrived early and took a quiet seat at the back of the room.

As students trickled in, just before the bell rang, Quirrell finally stumbled into the classroom.

“Today, t-t-today, we’ll r-read p-page th-thirteen, on the d-d-defense m-methods a-against Devil’s Sn-snare.”

The moment Quirrell opened his mouth, his stammering voice instantly made the room full of young witches and wizards sigh in despair.

But Quirrell paid them no mind and continued reading.

Dawn observed the man’s complexion.

Ever since the incident with the three-headed dog a month ago, Dawn had been keeping a close eye on him. He had noticed Quirrell’s complexion growing paler, and the garlic smell clinging to him getting stronger.

Was it because Voldemort’s influence was corrupting his body, and the stench had to be masked by even more garlic?

That was Dawn’s guess.

But who had actually released the three-headed dog that night?

His index finger tapped rhythmically on the desk.

….

Suddenly—

Creaaak—

The door creaked open.

Dawn looked toward the sound.

“S-s-sorry, P-Professor, I-I’m late,” Neville stammered as he bowed repeatedly toward the podium.

“N-no p-p-problem,” Quirrell replied with a smile that made him look like a harmless pushover. Neville gave a grateful nod and hurried to his seat.

Dawn raised an eyebrow.

Come to think of it, the pudgy kid had been looking exhausted these days, with a pallor that rivaled Quirrell’s.

…..

Time passed slowly amidst the stuttering lecture.

The sky darkened.

A full moon hung low in the sky, spilling its silver light across the land.

Using a Disillusionment Charm to mask his presence, Dawn slipped out of the castle and walked to the edge of the dark lake.

Carefully, he removed the Mandrake leaf from under his tongue and dropped it into a small crystal vial filled with his saliva.

Then he added a strand of his hair, some pre-collected dewdrops, and the pupa of a Grimace Moth.

Staring at the faintly glowing mixture under the moonlight, Dawn hesitated, then wrapped the potion bottle in his magic.

In an instant—

A whirlwind of complicated, ever-changing patterns burst into view!

Dawn believed the ritual before an Animagus transformation was about infusing the potion-making process with natural magic.

Then, by drinking the potion, a person would alter their own magical signature, allowing them to channel natural magic to maintain their transformation.

Of course, it was all still just a theory.

Proving it would take more time.

Watching the patterns shift and shimmer inside the crystal vial, Dawn knew the potion was still far from complete.

He didn’t have time to observe it longer.

He found a secluded spot near the castle, dug a hole in the soil, and buried the potion.

All that was left….was to wait for the storm!

Though—

Dawn didn’t yet realize that before the real storm arrived, he would already be swept into another troublesome whirlwind…

________________

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