Chapter 269. Animagus and Hermione's Arrival
When he learned that Harry couldn't live with him, Black went home a little disappointed, but in the days after that he often sent letters to the Dursleys' house.
Faced with this barrage of letters, Mr and Mrs Dursley were thoroughly displeased yet dared not obstruct them.
At the same time, however, their attitude towards Harry grew even worse—or rather, they completely ignored his existence: there was no place set for him at the table, and when they spoke they deliberately pretended not to see him.
Harry, of course, didn't mind; this was exactly what he wanted.
Only one thing made him a bit nervous: one day he overheard Vernon and Petunia talking—Vernon wanted to throw him out, but Petunia disagreed.
Very soon, half a month of the summer holidays had passed, and early July arrived.
During these two weeks, after a brief rest, Harry threw himself into the training regimen Adrian Wesson had set.
At Harry's request, however, the first magic he attempted was the Animagus.
It was an exceedingly tedious and difficult magic. The first step was to keep a single Mandrake leaf in one's mouth for a full month (from one full moon to the next) without swallowing or spitting it out—otherwise, one had to start over.
One Sunday morning, Harry came to the shop at the crack of dawn.
"Morn—ing… goo—d…" Harry mumbled, his tongue clumsy as it pressed against the Mandrake leaf, terrified of swallowing it by accident—just as he had the previous three times.
"Not bad at all, Harry," Wesson set down his quill and looked up from a stack of orders from a beauty-potions shop in Diagon Alley. "Today is the tenth day. Looks like you've finally got the hang of it this time."
Harry nodded slightly, not daring to move too much for fear the leaf would slip.
He somewhat regretted choosing to learn such a complicated magic in the first place, but it would be a real shame to give up now.
The thought of having to keep that blasted leaf in his mouth for another twenty days made him irritable. He truly couldn't fathom how the first person to invent this magic had managed it.
Wesson noticed Harry's mood and offered comfort. "Every Animagus gets through this the same way—I did too. That's why so few people ever master it."
"Then… what's your Animagus fo—… form like, Professor?" Harry's eyes lit up.
Wesson smiled. "Secret."
Harry couldn't help feeling disappointed at that.
Wesson added a reminder: "Even after you learn this magic, I wouldn't recommend telling anyone—keeping it to yourself is key to staying alive."
Harry nodded seriously.
Just then, Dobby appeared in the middle of the shop with a sharp pop, holding a steaming dish of meat pies, the tips of his ears quivering with excitement.
"Harry Potter, sir!" Dobby cried, thrilled. "Dobby heard you had come, so Dobby baked beef pies."
Staring at the mouth-watering pies, Harry was suddenly at a loss—every time this happened, he feared he'd swallow the Mandrake leaf in his mouth.
By mid-July, a week remained until the full moon.
Perhaps because he was on a diet, Dudley had been unbelievably irritable lately, and Vernon and Petunia had no way to handle their precious son. For a time the Dursley household was in utter chaos, and Harry had no wish to spend a minute more there.
So at first light, Harry came over to Wesson's as usual.
He was gradually getting used to the Mandrake leaf in his mouth; he could even speak more clearly now.
At noon, after enjoying the lunch Dobby had made, Harry lay comfortably on the sofa by the window, letting the sunshine from outside spill over him in perfect contentment.
"Knock, knock!"
Harry started and sat up at once, looking out the window.
A familiar face was pressed to the glass—messy brown curls glinting gold in the sun; her mouth kept moving, as if saying something—Hermione!
Harry's eyes widened in surprise, and he nearly spat out the Mandrake leaf. He hurried to the door and opened it.
"What are you doing here, Hermione?" he asked, indistinct.
"Professor Wesson wrote back to me," Hermione said, looking rather excited. "My mum and dad came too."
She stepped aside, and only then did Harry notice Mr and Mrs Granger standing behind her.
The Grangers were a typical Muggle couple, but their current get-up nearly made Harry burst out laughing. Mr Granger wore an overly large purple wizard's robe, and Mrs Granger had on a pointed witch's hat with a few little stars dangling from the brim that actually jumped.
Wesson emerged from the back room just then, noticed the movement at the door, and went to greet them at once. "Welcome—I've been expecting you. Nice hat, Mrs Granger."
Mrs Granger, a bit embarrassed, touched the brim. "Thank you—Hermione gave it to us. We… er… wanted to look as little out of place as possible."
"Dad even went and bought a book in Diagon Alley about wizarding etiquette," Hermione said in a small voice beside them. "But I told him it's all wrong."
Wesson nodded slightly and offered his hand to Mr Granger. "Welcome, Mr Granger. This isn't our first meeting. Do come in."
Nervous, Mr Granger gripped Wesson's hand—only to step on the too-long hem of his robe and nearly trip.
Wesson quickly used a bit of magic to shorten the robe for him.
"Oh—thank you." Mr Granger scratched his head awkwardly.
Once everyone was inside and seated on the sofa, Harry asked Hermione in a low voice, "So—what exactly happened?"
"Didn't Professor Wesson mention it?" Hermione smoothed her hair and explained, "Ron told me that as long as there's an adult witch or wizard around, you can use magic near him, because the Ministry can't tell who actually did the magic. So I wrote to Professor Wesson, hoping I could come over and have some fun. You know, he's the only professor I can reach who lives in the Muggle world. Look—I brought my wand."
"I see." Harry understood at once.
He could sympathise—summers without magic were indeed hard to endure.
At that moment, Hermione noticed something odd about Harry and asked, "Have you got something in your mouth?"
"Oh—yes…" Harry began to explain about the Animagus.
Meanwhile, on the other side, Mr and Mrs Granger were looking around the shop with curiosity.
To be honest, there wasn't much difference from an ordinary plant shop; at most the types of plants on the shelves were a bit different—the plants moved on their own, and some even glowed.
Just then Dobby appeared by the tea table, giving the Grangers quite a fright.
"Don't be afraid," Wesson reassured them. "He's a member of my staff."
Dobby gave them a bow, finished making the tea, and vanished on the spot at once.
"Amazing," Mr Granger replied thoughtfully. "Is it a goblin? I saw some at the bank in Diagon Alley."
"Er… they're not the same race," Wesson reminded him. "It's best not to say that in front of goblins, or you might cause some unnecessary trouble."
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