During the process of improving his flying brooms, Maurise had developed a few unorthodox ideas.
Soon enough, the Easter holidays arrived. Though it was nominally a holiday, the atmosphere inside Hogwarts Castle was even gloomier than usual. Unlike the relaxed, joyful vibe of Christmas, the professors had assigned a mountain of homework, leaving the students groaning in despair.
Maurise, naturally, did not share this burden. He could easily write eight essays in a single morning. Therefore, he had plenty of free time to tinker with his magical inventions.
Inside the Ship in a Bottle, a single flying broom sat in the middle of Maurise's room.
"Give it a try, Tin."
"Meow~"
Upon receiving Maurise's command, Tin looked back at him, its undead eyes full of doubt.
'Are you serious?'
He did not know how to ride a broom!
Besides, he was clearly a cat. Why did people always want to send it up into the sky?
Maurise urged, "Hurry up."
Reluctantly, Tin padded over to the broomstick and leaped onto the handle. Unexpectedly, as soon as it settled down, the broom slowly levitated from the floor.
Tin stiffened completely. What in the world was going on?
"You can control it with your mind," Maurise's voice echoed from the side. "Just use your brain and picture where you want to go."
Tin remained skeptical. It tentatively stared at a can of cola sitting on the desk. Slowly, the broom drifted over and came to a steady halt right beside the drink. The cat extended a paw and batted at the can, its eyes lighting up instantly.
'It works!'
"Meow!" Tin yowled excitedly, its voice brimming with smug satisfaction.
"Do a couple of laps," Maurise instructed.
Cats are inherently active creatures, and even an undead feline like Tin was no exception. Soon, a flying cat was zooming recklessly around the room.
Maurise smiled as he watched. This flying broom was his latest creation, born from a complete shift in his design philosophy. Its greatest feature was simple: it could be flown entirely by the rider's thoughts. As long as the rider pictured a destination in their mind, the broom would automatically fly there, requiring zero manual steering skills.
The only drawback was that this type of broom could not fly very fast, rendering it completely useless for a Quidditch match. Of course, even if the speed were up to par, the official league rules would likely ban it anyway. However, Maurise had never intended for this broom to be used in Quidditch in the first place.
His goal was entirely different.
"Tin," he spoke up. "Try activating the attack magic on the broom. Picture a bone spike in your mind, just like this."
Maurise raised his hand and cast a Bone Summoning spell. A pale bone spike materialized out of thin air and slammed into the opposite wall with a sharp thwack.
Tin stared at the bone spike and narrowed its eyes. Naturally, it was quite familiar with its master's bone magic.
"Take your time," Maurise advised. "Find the feeling. It is very easy."
Tin's gaze grew serious. The effect was instantaneous.
Almost the exact second Maurise finished speaking, the front end of the broom beneath Tin flashed. An identical bone spike materialized and shot toward the wall, aiming directly at Cinder, who was resting peacefully on a nearby perch.
"!?!"
Cinder immediately took flight. The bone spike grazed the tip of its tail feathers before embedding itself deeply into the wooden stand.
Tin let out a few triumphant yowls, its eyes sparkling with pure mischief.
"Screech!"
Cinder puffed up its feathers in sheer anger, flapping its wings, fully prepared to dive down and teach the stupid cat a painful lesson.
However, Tin triggered the Bone Summoning rune on the broom once more. Familiar bone spikes appeared, intersecting in mid-air to form a cage that trapped Cinder securely on the floor in the blink of an eye. Squatting comfortably on the broom, Tin floated slowly over to the bone cage, staring down Cinder through the bars with a highly punchable expression.
'Heh, still want to fight me?'
Maurise watched the scene unfold from the sidelines. He did not even need to think to know what would happen next.
Half a minute later, he let out a slow sigh as he looked at Tin, who was now dangling upside down from the ceiling, tightly strung up by Cinder' shadow magic.
Forget Cinder, even Maurise, its own master, could not fathom what went through this idiotic cat's head. Why did it love asking for trouble so much? This exact scenario played out at least once or twice a month. He was honestly tired of watching it.
Anyway, turning his attention back to the flying broom.
Currently, the prototype possessed exactly two abilities: telepathic flight and Bone Summoning. That was it. Since it was the product of a sudden whim, it was perfectly normal for it to be a bit rudimentary.
As for why he made this broom, well, there was no profound reason. It was just a stroke of inspiration.
The potential of such an item was obvious. With a nearly complete set of Bone Summoning runes carved into the shaft, its combat capabilities were quite formidable. Perhaps he could make more of them in the future and equip them to his undead creatures or skeleton summons.
That way, he could command an entire army of flying skeletons.
That sounded rather nice.
Stepping out of his room, Maurise stretched his arms. Crafting the runic broom had left him feeling a bit drained. Tin and Cinder were still arguing inside. Based on past experience, the bickering would probably last another half an hour.
He walked into the living room and gazed out the window. The sky was gradually darkening, the last remnants of the sunset being swallowed by the approaching night.
Tonight was the night of the full moon.
Maurise suddenly thought of Professor Lupin. Having taken his Wolfsbane Potion, the man was likely hiding in his office, silently enduring the painful transformation process. Ever since realizing he would not lose his mind and endanger the students, Lupin had stopped sneaking out to the Shrieking Shack.
But that was none of Maurise's business. Tonight, he had important work of his own to do. It was time to place the Mandrake leaf in his mouth and officially begin the preliminary preparations for the Animagus transformation.
Maurise sat on the sofa, pulled the dried leaf from his pocket, and slipped it into his mouth.
Although he was not used to the awkward sensation, he was a wizard. Why suffer when a simple spell could fix it?
He drew his wand and gave it a gentle flick. A soft light flashed. The leaf was still physically resting under his tongue, but the uncomfortable feeling had vanished completely, as if nothing were there at all.
'That is more like it.'
Maurise let out a breath and leaned back comfortably against the sofa cushions. He had found this minor sensory charm among the ancient records left behind by Slytherin.
The Animagus transformation was an incredibly ancient branch of magic. The records mentioned that the earliest Animagi could be traced back to antiquity, where they were known as "Druids." Back then, human Transfiguration was crude, violently unstable, and fraught with lethal danger. Very few succeeded in transforming, and most lost their human minds permanently during the process.
Later, powerful ancient wizards began studying this untamed magic, attempting to make it safer and more controllable. They spent centuries perfecting the art.
Observing the intricate phases of the moon.
Experimenting with various stabilizing potions.
Searching for the optimal atmospheric conditions to initiate the change.
Countless failures were followed by countless improvements. Finally, after the painstaking efforts of an unknown number of generations, they formulated a complete, standardized procedure.
That procedure was the modern Animagus Transfiguration.
Maurise looked at the bright full moon hanging outside his window, a profound sense of respect rising in his heart. This was what true wizards should be like. Even when the risk of failure was terrifyingly high, they still chose to march forward in the pursuit of knowledge.
He withdrew his gaze and felt the faint magical presence of the leaf tucked under his tongue.
One whole month.
It was going to be quite a grueling wait.