Chapter 269: Spinner's End
London. The dark clouds that had once loomed outside the Prime Minister's window now drifted over a filthy river.
The river wound its way through overgrown banks piled high with rubbish. A giant chimney—a relic of a disused mill—towered ominously over the scene.
There was no sound but the dark water whimpering under the heavy rain, and no sign of life anywhere.
Suddenly, two figures appeared at the very last house in Spinner's End, as if they had sprung from nowhere.
The rain seemed to flow around them. Strangest of all, the boy in black robes held a wooden stick that emitted light.
If anyone on the street had seen this, it would likely have made the news. Fortunately, as mentioned, there was no sign of life here.
"Go—"
Professor Snape led Sean, and they effortlessly found the buried potion at the marked spot.
Raindrops pattered around them as Snape waited expressionlessly with Sean for the next flash of lightning.
A silver-white bolt soon tore through the sky. In that instant, Sean felt his heartbeat intensify again.
He waved his wand, and the earth moved aside of its own accord, revealing the buried potion, which had turned blood-red.
Half the success was achieved.
Suppressing his excitement, Sean picked up the potion, pointed his wand tip at his heart, and chanted the incantation:
"Amato Animo Animato Animagus!"
Then he quickly drank the potion.
His heart began to pound like a drum. Sean felt intense pain as two fierce heartbeats wrestled within him.
It was as if another heartbeat had been awakened and was now fighting the first for ownership of his body.
The process was painful and prolonged, for something fundamental, driven by that second heartbeat, was forcing the wizard to assume another form.
Gritting his teeth, Professor McGonagall's words surfaced in his mind:
"You must show no fear! It is too late now to escape the promised change!"
In the wind and rain, Snape's billowing robes snapped loudly. His expression shifted repeatedly as he watched Sean's face turn pale, saw the instinctive panic in his eyes, and noticed his figure beginning to undergo abnormal changes to a certain degree.
He frowned uneasily, a voice inside him urging him to do something.
"I am here—"
He moved closer, speaking in a low, raspy voice, uttering nonsense he would have once scoffed at.
Sean couldn't hear him. His entire mind was drawn to certain animals. They were only vague outlines, the clearest among them being a black cat.
Though called a black cat, it was much larger than an ordinary one and possessed an air of keen intelligence.
The first transformation began, causing Sean considerable discomfort. His clothes, shoes, and other items merged into his skin, becoming fur or claws.
Animal instincts constantly sought to dominate, urging Sean to do foolish things like run wild or charge into a wall.
These instincts were so strong that even Sean couldn't fully control himself. Between running wild and charging into a wall, Sean made his choice in a split second.
Just as the black cat extended its claws, it was hoisted up by a pair of large hands.
"Such clumsy mastery of Transfiguration... How dared Minerva McGonagall let you attempt the transformation?!"
Snape roared, as if venting his inner anxiety.
Once his feet left the ground, the black cat's head drooped, his rationality gradually returning.
Something was very wrong. Not only could he not control his body well, but it was also difficult to change back.
The black cat's puzzled eyes looked at a puddle, reflecting a verdant green light.
Looking up at Snape, who seemed unsure of what to do next, the cat suddenly smelled the scent of old, dull, rusty metal, which then shifted to the fresh fragrance of dew and grass.
Sean was certain now: his Animagus form wasn't just a cat; it likely possessed traits of a Kneazle.
As for the reason... perhaps he had eaten too many Kneazle Biscuits, causing the Kneazle consciousness to exist for too long and too strongly within him; or maybe he had performed too many Kneazle alchemical rituals, subconsciously forging a new path in Transfiguration...
Sean noted all these details about Soul Transfiguration in his mind, planning to ask Professor Terra later.
In any case, it was better than an ordinary black cat.
Perhaps because he hadn't adapted yet, Sean currently lacked the automatic pathfinding ability.
Probably fearing he would run off again, Snape stared at him firmly, his attention unwavering even after they entered the house.
Inside the two-story building at the end of Spinner's End was a dim, cramped living room furnished with shabby pieces.
A candle-filled lamp hung from the ceiling, and the surrounding walls were lined with books. One hidden door in the bookshelf led to a narrow staircase going up, while another led to a small room.
There seemed to be no obvious doors here. Upon entering, Sean felt as though he had walked into a padded cell. Due to long-term vacancy, spiders had spun many webs.
The fire in the fireplace was lit. The black cat leaped, covering a distance hard for an ordinary cat to clear, and landed on the hearth. It shook its body, sending raindrops flying from its fur.
Severus Snape was spattered with water, but he merely cast a cold glance at the black cat warming itself by the fire, gave a heavy harrumph, and said nothing.
The streetlamps outside were mottled and faded, providing dim illumination. The torrential rain scoured the streets, washing garbage into the river, making it even filthier.
But inside the small living room, there was the warm glow of the fire.
Severus Snape was reading a book, his peripheral vision constantly tracking the black cat darting around the bookshelves.
It seemed completely unfamiliar with its own body and had to practice in various ways.
For instance, if it didn't look at its tail, the tail wouldn't move; when it used its whiskers to sense the temperature of the fireplace, it nearly singed them off...
There were too many such incidents.
Snape took a sip of steaming hot coffee just as two figures appeared outside the house.
Barely half an hour later, an anxious Professor McGonagall and a beaming Dumbledore had arrived.
The doorbell rang.
Dumbledore smiled at Snape as he opened the door:
"Severus, what do you think of the black cat? My taste isn't too bad, is it..."
Before the old wizard could finish, the door slammed shut with a heavy bang.
"Oh, people always find it hard to admit when others are right, don't they, Minerva?"
His expression remained unchanged as he asked with a smile.
Not long after.
Spinner's End saw one of its rare, lively moments—several figures now occupied the living room.
The murmur of conversation continued, masking the howling storm outside.
The black cat was by the fireplace. After Professor McGonagall entered, she casually conjured a soft cushion.
The black cat sat on it, seemingly deep in thought.
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