Behind his ears, new slits opened with a sensation like being cut—gills, but more elaborate than his usual ones. These were edged with what looked like silver filigree, decorative and functional all at once.
Tears were streaming down his face uncontrollably, but when they hit the water, they didn't dissolve. Instead, they solidified, transforming into perfect black pearls that sank to the bottom of the tub with soft plinks.
"What's... happening... to me?"
The question came out between ragged gasps. His hands rose to touch his face. It still looked like human hands, but there were scales above it. His fingers encountered something on his forehead that definitely hadn't been there before.
Neville froze, his breath catching. Slowly but carefully, he traced the shape of the protrusion. It was hard, textured like stone but warm. The structure branched and curved in patterns that his trembling fingers mapped with growing horror.
