章節 18: The Magizoologist's Visit
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Chapter 19 (The Impossible Familiar), Chapter 20 (Do you want to be a Magizoologist?), Chapter 21 (Runes and Shadows), Chapter 22 (The Bridge Between Worlds), Chapter 23 (A Nundu's Gift), Chapter 24 (A Grand Prank), Chapter 25 (First Year Ends), Chapter 26 (Magic & Politics), Chapter 27 (Letters, Contracts, and Other Complications), Chapter 28 (When Loves Makes Home), Chapter 29 (A Nundu in France), and Chapter 30 (The Minister's Request) are already available for Patrons.
Harry woke up with a groan, the dull throb in his head pulsating with each beat of his heart. His entire body felt heavier than ever before, as if he had been drained of every ounce of energy. The familiar sterile scent of potions and herbs tickled his nose, and it didn't take him long to recognize the surroundings—the Hospital Wing.
He shifted slightly, wincing as a sharp ache flared through his limbs. Everything hurt. His head spun, his muscles screamed, and the exhaustion weighed down on him like a crushing blanket. But despite the overwhelming fatigue, the memories rushed back to him in a flood—Voldemort, the battle, Itisa.
Itisa.
Harry's heart raced, and he forced himself to sit up, the action causing his head to spin. "Itisa," he croaked, his voice hoarse and strained. He tried to swing his legs over the side of the bed.
But before he could stand, a voice—calm, firm, and unfamiliar—cut through the air.
"Mister Potter."
Harry froze. That voice wasn't Madam Pomfrey, nor was it anyone he had expected to hear. Slowly, he turned his head toward the source of the voice and saw two figures sitting beside his bed, their gazes fixed on him.
One was a tall woman with long, bright crimson hair, sharp eyes behind her square glasses, and a stern expression; her face reminded him of Susan, an older one.
The other figure was even more intimidating—a grizzled man with a heavily scarred face, one magical eye swirling in its socket, and the other eye narrowed with suspicion. The woman was Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and the man beside her was unmistakable—Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody.
Both were sitting at his bedside, their gazes narrowing as they observed him carefully. Harry's heart skipped a beat. This was not a casual visit.
"Mister Potter, we need you to answer some questions,"
"Itisa?" Harry called out immediately, trying to sit up despite his body's protests.
"Your... cat is fine," Amelia said, her slight pause making Harry's stomach twist. "She's with Professor Dumbledore."
Harry studied their faces carefully. Amelia's expression was neutral, but there was something in her eyes that made Harry uneasy. Mad-Eye Moody lounged in his chair with deceptive casualness, his magical eye whirring as it fixed unnervingly on Harry.
"How are you feeling, Mr. Potter?" Amelia asked formally.
Harry couldn't resist. "Oh, just wonderful. Nothing like a duel with a Dark Lord to really get the blood pumping. I should make it a weekly thing, really. Perhaps we could schedule the next one?"
Amelia's lips thinned disapprovingly. "This is a serious matter, Mr. Potter."
"Really? I hadn't noticed when Voldemort was trying to kill me," Harry replied dryly. He noticed that neither of them flinched at the name, unlike most of the wizarding world. Interesting.
Mad-Eye's scarred face twisted into what might have been a smirk. "Cheeky little blighter, aren't you?"
"I try my best," Harry said, then winced as he shifted position. "So, what happened to Professor Quirrell and his... passenger?"
"That's what we'd like to know," Moody growled, his magical eye boring into Harry. "What exactly did you do to him?"
Harry met the auror's gaze steadily. "I used a burning spell. Blue flames. He didn't seem to appreciate it much."
"Blue flames?" Amelia's eyebrow rose. "That's advanced magic for a first-year student."
"Well, I didn't exactly have time to flip through 'Standard Book of Spells: Grade 1' while dodging Unforgivable Curses," Harry pointed out.
"About that," Amelia leaned forward slightly. "Perhaps you could explain exactly what happened yesterday, and how you came to be in that classroom with Professor Quirrell?"
Harry took a deep breath, organizing his thoughts. "I was heading back to my common room after dinner when Professor Quirrell told me he wanted to speak with me. He is a Professor so I decided to see what he wanted."
"And then?" Moody prompted, both eyes now fixed on Harry.
"He tried to attack me, but I was able to dodge his spell, and then Professor Quirrell revealed his second uglier face. Then Voldemort started monologuing about how he was going to kill me. He seemed to have practiced it." Harry's casual tone belied the memory of genuine fear he'd felt. "He started throwing curses at me, including the Killing Curse. I defended myself."
"With blue flames," Amelia stated.
"Among other things," Harry nodded. "I used whatever spells I could think of. Stupefy, Expulso, Confringo. He blocked most of them."
"Most eleven-year-olds don't know those spells," Moody observed.
"Most eleven-year-olds don't have Dark Lords trying to kill them," Harry countered. "I like to be prepared."
"And where exactly did you learn these spells?" Amelia asked.
"Books, mostly. And Tonks has been helping me practice defensive spells."
"Nymphadora?" Amelia's expression softened slightly. "Yes, Susan's mentioned you two are friends."
"She's brilliant," Harry said honestly. "She's helped me a lot this year."
"And after the blue flames?" Moody pressed, getting them back on track.
Harry's expression darkened. "Voldemort used Fiendfyre. The entire room was filled with cursed fire. I thought..." he trailed off, remembering the terror of that moment. "I thought I was going to die."
"Yet here you are," Moody said, his magical eye spinning wildly. "How did you survive?"
Harry chose his words carefully. "I managed to dodge the worst of it. Then there was an explosion, and everything went dark. Next thing I knew, I woke up here."
Amelia and Moody exchanged a look that Harry couldn't quite interpret.
"Professor Quirrell's body was found," Amelia said slowly. "Or what was left of it. Completely incinerated, but not by Fiendfyre. The magical signature was... different. Unlike anything we've seen before."
Harry kept his face carefully neutral. "I told you, I used blue flames."
"Blue flames don't do that kind of damage," Moody growled. "And they don't leave traces of unusual magic."
Harry's heart skipped a beat, but he maintained his composure. "Unusual magic? I don't know anything about that. I just did what I could to survive."
"Mr. Potter," Amelia said, her voice gentler now. "If there's anything else you can tell us about what happened in that room..."
"I've told you everything I remember," Harry said firmly. "It was chaotic, and I was fighting for my life. Some details might be fuzzy."
Moody's magical eye fixed on him again, but Harry met his gaze steadily. He'd learned occlumency basics from his books, and while he wasn't particularly skilled at it yet, he knew enough to maintain eye contact without giving anything away.
"There's something else we need to discuss," Amelia said, pulling out a familiar object from her robes. Harry's eyes lit up at the sight of his talisman.
"Oh good, you found it," Harry said, reaching for it. "I was worried it got destroyed in the fight."
Amelia handed it over, but her expression was curious. "Susan mentioned you'd been making these. She was quite impressed."
"As was I when I examined it," Moody growled, his magical eye fixed on the talisman. "Interesting piece of work for a first-year. Where'd you learn to make something like that?"
Harry turned the talisman over in his hands, checking for damage. "Books, mostly. Trial and error. Lots of error, actually. You should have seen my first attempts - one of them turned into a rubber chicken."
"A rubber chicken?" Amelia raised an eyebrow.
"Don't ask," Harry shuddered. "I still don't know how that happened."
"What exactly does it do?" Moody asked, leaning forward with interest.
Harry held up the talisman. "It needs to be activated with magic from a wand first. Once it's active, it can deflect weak spells back at the caster - but only if the talisman is facing the spell directly. Kind of like a tiny shield."
"And that's how you knew Quirrell was behind you?" Amelia asked.
"Sort of," Harry replied. "It also makes a warning sound when it detects spells being cast nearby. That's actually how I noticed something was wrong. Quirrell tried to hex me from behind, but the talisman started humming. Gave me just enough time to dodge."
"Clever," Moody nodded approvingly. "Constant vigilance in charm form."
"That's actually what gave me the idea," Harry admitted. "Lady Andromeda and Mister Ted told me the many times you used to say that line during the war."
Moody's scarred face twisted into what might have been a smile. "Good to know someone's listening. Speaking of vigilance - want to tell us more about that fight? The damage to that classroom was... extensive."
"That's putting it mildly," Harry muttered. "It got pretty intense. Especially when he started throwing Unforgivables around like party favors."
"Which ones?" Amelia asked sharply.
"Cruciatus, Imperius, and the killing curse," Harry counted off on his fingers. "The full set. I think he was going for some kind of evil bingo."
"This isn't a joke, Potter," Moody growled, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice.
"Trust me, I know," Harry's expression grew serious. "When the Fiendfyre started, I thought... well, I've never been so scared in my life. They were taking shapes - serpents, chimeras, dragons. It was like every nightmare I've ever had came to life at once."
"Yet you survived," Amelia observed. "How exactly did you manage that?"
"I told you. I got lucky. The flames were so intense they started affecting the castle's structure. There was an explosion, and part of the ceiling collapsed. After that... it's kind of a blur."
"Quite a blur," Moody's magical eye spun rapidly. "Considering what we found in that room."
"What did you find?" Harry asked, genuinely curious about what the aftermath looked like.
"Besides Quirrell's remains?" Moody leaned back. "Scorch marks unlike anything I've seen in forty years as an Auror. Magical residue that made my eye spin like a top. And traces of power that shouldn't exist there."
"Maybe Hogwarts' own magic interfered?" Harry suggested innocently. "The castle is pretty ancient."
"Maybe," Moody said, in a tone that suggested he didn't believe that for a second. "Or maybe there's something else you're not telling us."
"I've told you everything I remember," Harry said firmly, meeting Moody's gaze. "It was chaos in there. I was fighting for my life against a Dark Lord with a face on the back of someone's head. Excuse me if some of the details are a bit fuzzy."
Amelia and Moody exchanged another look, and Harry had the distinct impression they were having an entire conversation without words.
"Very well," Amelia said finally. "Keep the talisman close, Mr. Potter. Something tells me you might need it again."
"Thanks," Harry said, slipping the talisman under his pillow. "I don't suppose you found my wand too?"
"On your bedside table," Moody nodded toward it. "Interesting core you've got there. Never seen one quite like it, and I don't think it was happy when I tried to hold it."
Harry's hand closed around his wand, feeling the familiar warmth. "Ollivander said it was unique."
"I bet he did," Moody muttered, standing up. "Rest up, Potter. And remember - "
"Constant vigilance," Harry finished with him, managing a small grin.
As they turned to leave, Harry called out, "Could you tell Itisa I'm okay? She worries."
"Your cat?" Amelia asked, that slight pause before the word 'cat' present again.
"Yeah," Harry said. "My cat."
"That's quite a cat you've got there, Potter," he said, his magical eye swiveling to look through the wall in the direction of Dumbledore's office. "Never seen one quite like it."
Harry's heart nearly stopped, but he forced himself to shrug casually. "She's special."
"That she is," Moody agreed, his scarred face unreadable. Then he stumped away after Amelia, leaving Harry alone with his racing thoughts.
As soon as they were gone, Harry sank back into his pillows, exhausted. He needed to talk to Dumbledore, needed to know if Itisa was really okay, needed to find out how much Moody and Amelia suspected.
Amelia and Mad-Eye
As Amelia and Mad-Eye exited the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey immediately intercepted them, her expression stern and disapproving.
"I hope you're quite finished interrogating my patient," she said crisply. "The boy needs rest, not an Auror inquisition."
"We're done for now, Poppy," Amelia assured her diplomatically.
Before Madam Pomfrey could respond, a blur of bushy brown hair rushed past them, heading straight for Harry's bed. Moody's magical eye swiveled to track the girl's progress while his normal eye caught sight of another approaching figure.
Susan Bones hurried toward her aunt, her auburn hair swaying with each step. "Auntie! Is Harry okay? He's not in trouble, is he?"
Amelia's expression softened slightly as she looked at her niece. "Mr. Potter is... recovering. As for trouble..." she paused thoughtfully. "Let's just say there are many questions, but also many reasons to be impressed."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Susan's brow furrowed.
"It means go see your friend," Amelia said, giving her niece a gentle push toward the hospital wing entrance. "He could probably use some company his own age."
As Susan headed inside, Moody's magical eye caught movement from the corridor. A tall girl with shocking pink hair was leaning against the wall, studying him with undisguised interest.
"Something caught your eye, lass?" Moody growled.
Nymphadora Tonks opened her mouth, seemed to think better of whatever she was going to say, and then squared her shoulders. "I don't know what you two think Harry did," she said firmly, "but he fought You-Know-Who. By himself. That has to count for something."
"And how do you know what we're thinking?" Moody challenged, both eyes now fixed on her.
"Because I know that look," Tonks replied. "But Harry's a good kid. Whatever happened in that room..." she trailed off, her eyes flickering briefly toward Dumbledore's office. "Well, maybe sometimes we don't need all the answers."
With that cryptic statement, she strode past them into the hospital wing, her hair shifting to a warm honey-brown as she went.
"Interesting group of friends Potter's got," Moody commented as they headed toward Dumbledore's office.
"Indeed," Amelia agreed. "Though perhaps not surprising, given the circumstances."
They walked in silence for a moment before Moody spoke again. "That 'cat' of his."
"Yes," Amelia's hand unconsciously touched her monocle. "I've never seen anything quite like it."
"Neither has my eye," Moody growled. "And it's seen plenty."
"What exactly did you see?"
"Power," Moody said simply. "The kind that makes ancient artifacts look like children's toys. Whatever that creature is, it's not just a cat."
"Susan mentioned it once," Amelia recalled. "Said it was unusually intelligent, even for a magical familiar. But she didn't seem to notice anything... extraordinary about it."
"Because it doesn't want to be noticed," Moody's magical eye spun rapidly. "Clever bit of magic there. Most people see exactly what they expect to see - just a cat. But if you know what to look for..."
"The magical signature in that classroom," Amelia said slowly. "The unusual traces..."
"Weren't from Potter," Moody finished. "Talented as the boy is, he's not channeling that kind of magic. But that 'cat' of his..."
They reached the gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office. Amelia spoke the password ("Pepper Imps"), and they ascended the rotating staircase.
"The question is," Amelia continued their conversation, "what exactly is Albus doing harboring such a creature in a school full of children?"
"Better question might be why such a creature is playing house cat for an eleven-year-old boy," Moody countered.
They reached the office door, but before either could knock, Dumbledore's voice called out, "Come in, Amelia, Alastor."
They entered to find Dumbledore seated behind his desk, and curled up on a nearby cushion was the subject of their discussion. The "cat" opened one eye to regard them lazily, but both Aurors could feel the weight of its assessment.
"I trust young Harry is recovering well?" Dumbledore asked pleasantly.
"Well enough to be quite cheeky about the whole affair," Amelia replied dryly.
"Ah, yes, he does have rather a unique perspective on life-threatening situations," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Though perhaps that's to be expected, given his... unusual circumstances."
"Speaking of unusual circumstances," Moody's magical eye fixed on the "cat," which had now opened both eyes and was watching them with unmistakable intelligence. "Care to explain what kind of creature you've got masquerading as a house pet, Albus?"
"Itisa is exactly what she appears to be," Dumbledore said carefully. "A loyal companion to young Harry."
"But not a cat," Amelia pressed.
"That rather depends on one's definition of 'cat,' doesn't it?" Dumbledore smiled serenely. "She is feline in nature, certainly."
"Cut the games, Albus," Moody growled. "That creature's magical signature nearly broke my eye. Whatever it is, it's powerful enough to leave traces of magic in its wake. That's not something you can just explain away with riddles."
The "cat" - Itisa - stood and stretched, and for a moment, both Aurors could have sworn they saw something else, something much larger and more magnificent, overlaid on her form. Then she was just a cat again, watching them with those too-intelligent eyes.
"Some mysteries," Dumbledore said softly, "are better left unexplored. Particularly when their revelation might cause more harm than good."
"You're asking us to ignore something potentially dangerous in a school full of children," Amelia said.
"I'm asking you to trust that I would never allow anything truly dangerous to threaten my students," Dumbledore corrected. "Itisa has been here since the start of term, and the only harm she's done was to a Dark Lord who threatened her companion."
"So you admit she was involved in what happened to Quirrell," Moody's eye spun triumphantly.
"I admit nothing," Dumbledore smiled. "Merely pointing out that if one were looking for evidence of danger, that particular incident rather proves the opposite, don't you think?"
"That... cat," Moody began, his magical eye fixed on Itisa. "What exactly is she?"
"Her name is Itisa," Dumbledore corrected gently, "and as I said, she is exactly what she appears to be."
A soft chuckle escaped Moody's scarred lips. "'Free Spirit,' eh? Fitting name for something that's clearly more than it seems."
"You recognize the meaning?" Dumbledore's eyebrows raised slightly.
"I've picked up a few languages over the years," Moody growled. "Ancient ones especially. Useful for curse-breaking."
"Albus," Amelia interjected, her tone serious, "we're talking about a school full of children. Whatever that creature is—"
"Itisa," Dumbledore corrected again, a slight edge creeping into his voice despite his maintained smile.
"Whatever Itisa is," Amelia continued, "you're potentially putting every student at risk by harboring her here. We've seen the magical traces she leaves behind. That kind of power—"
"Is precisely why she poses no threat," Dumbledore interrupted, his blue eyes no longer twinkling. "Tell me, Amelia, in all your years as Head of Magical Law Enforcement, have you ever known a truly powerful being to need to demonstrate its power needlessly?"
"That's not the point—"
"I rather think it is," Dumbledore stood slowly, and though his voice remained calm, there was an edge. "You speak of my students' safety as though I haven't spent decades protecting them. As though I would allow any genuine threat within these walls."
Moody's eye swiveled between Itisa and Dumbledore. "She's not like anything in our records, Albus. Not a kneazle, not a magical familiar of any known type.—"
"Have you considered that power and danger are not necessarily synonymous?"
"We've considered a lot of possibilities," Amelia said. "Though I must admit, despite how powerful she appeared to be in that moment, we ruled out some of the more dangerous magical creatures. A Nundu, for instance—"
A strange sound came from Itisa, almost like a snort.
"—would be far too aggressive," Amelia continued. "They're hostile even to their own young. Whatever Itisa is, she's clearly capable of forming bonds, of showing affection. That level of socialization rules out most of the more dangerous magical creatures we know of."
"Perhaps," Dumbledore sat back down, stroking his beard thoughtfully, "that should tell you something about the nature of your assumptions regarding what is and isn't dangerous."
"Meaning?" Moody prompted.
"Meaning," Dumbledore's voice took on a teaching tone, "that you're so focused on categorizing and classifying what Itisa might be, you're missing what she demonstrably is: a protective companion who has shown nothing but dedication to young Harry's wellbeing."
"A companion with enough power to leave magic traces," Moody pointed out.
"Indeed," Dumbledore's eyes flickered to Itisa, who had rolled onto her back in what appeared to be a deliberately casual display of unconcern. "And yet she chooses to spend her days napping in the sun and following an eleven-year-old boy to his classes. Curious behavior for something you consider so dangerous, wouldn't you say?"
"But—" Amelia began.
"Let me be very clear," Dumbledore's voice grew serious, though his expression remained pleasant. "I have experience with dangerous people and beings. When I tell you Itisa poses no threat to my students, I am not speaking from naive optimism but from careful observation and deep understanding."
He paused, his eyes meeting each of theirs in turn. "However, I will add this: it is generally wiser to leave a lion at peace than to prod it with a stick simply to confirm it has teeth."
Itisa chose that moment to stretch and yawn, displaying a rather impressive set of teeth before settling back into what appeared to be a nap. The casualness of the display somehow made it all the more pointed.
"Are you threatening us, Albus?" Amelia asked quietly.
"My dear Amelia," Dumbledore smiled benignly, "I am merely offering friendly advice about the wisdom of leaving well enough alone. After all, Itisa has been here for months without incident. The only time she's displayed any aggression was in defense of a student against a legitimate threat. One might argue she's already proven herself more protective of the children than dangerous to them."
Moody's magical eye spun rapidly. "And if we decide this needs further investigation?"
"Then I would remind you that Hogwarts operates under certain autonomous rights," Dumbledore replied pleasantly. "And that attempting to interfere with a student's familiar without due cause could lead to some rather awkward legal complications. I'm sure Amelia can elaborate on the relevant statutes."
"Albus," Amelia's voice softened slightly, "I have nothing against Potter. The boy clearly has a good heart, and he's shown remarkable courage. But my duty is to ensure everyone's safety. Surely you understand that?"
Dumbledore's expression gentled as he regarded her. "I understand completely, Amelia. Your niece is here, after all. It's natural for you to be concerned." He leaned forward, his blue eyes kind but firm. "But I assure you, Itisa poses no threat to Susan or any other student. In fact, her presence here has already saved at least one young life."
"Speaking of threats," Moody growled, "let's talk about your professor, Albus. You hired a man who had the Dark Lord stuck to the back of his head. Every student in this school could have been killed!"
A flash of genuine pain crossed Dumbledore's features. "Quirinus taught here for a year before his... unfortunate encounter during his sabbatical. He showed no signs of dark magic, no indication of what he would become." His shoulders sagged slightly. "However, you are correct, Alastor. As headmaster, I should have been more vigilant. The fact that it came down to Harry facing him..." He shook his head. "That responsibility lies with me."
"Well, at least we agree on something," Amelia said dryly. She straightened her monocle and fixed Dumbledore with a determined look. "I'm going to hire a Magizoologist to examine Itisa. We need to know exactly what we're dealing with."
To their surprise, Dumbledore's eyes began twinkling again, and a small smirk played at the corners of his mouth. "Ah, I'm afraid I've already taken that liberty."
Moody's magical eye spun rapidly. "Who?"
"The best in the world," Dumbledore replied, clearly enjoying himself. "Newt Scamander will be arriving shortly to assist us in understanding our unique friend here."
Itisa's ears perked up at this, and she tilted her head, seeming almost amused.
"Scamander?" Amelia's eyebrows shot up. "You actually got Newt Scamander to come out of retirement?"
"He was quite intrigued by my description," Dumbledore nodded. "He's quite excited about the prospect."
"And what exactly did you tell him?" Moody asked suspiciously.
"Only that we have a rather remarkable familiar who appears to be a cat but demonstrates some rather... unique qualities." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Newt has always enjoyed a good mystery, particularly when it involves a creature that defies conventional classification."
"And when will he arrive?" Amelia pressed.
"Very soon," Dumbledore replied. "He's currently wrapping up some research in New Zealand, I believe. Something about a colony of modified Diricawls."
Moody snorted. "Convenient timing."
"Isn't it?" Dumbledore agreed cheerfully. "Now, perhaps we can all agree to wait for Newt's expertise before making any hasty decisions? After all, if anyone can help us understand Itisa's true nature, it would be the man who wrote the definitive text on magical creatures."
Amelia and Moody exchanged glances again. Having Newt Scamander involved changed things. His reputation was unimpeachable, and his expertise unmatched.
"Fine," Amelia conceded. "We'll wait for Scamander's assessment. But this isn't over, Albus."
"Of course not," Dumbledore agreed amiably. "Though I suspect Newt's findings will prove quite... illuminating. Don't you think so, Itisa?"
The "cat" in question merely yawned and stretched, but there was something distinctly smug about her expression.
"One more thing," Moody growled. "If Scamander determines she's dangerous—"
"Then we will deal with that situation appropriately," Dumbledore cut him off, his voice firm. "But I think you'll find that Newt has a rather more nuanced view of what constitutes 'dangerous' than most. After all, this is the man who tried to raise a Nundu from infancy."
Itisa made that strange snorting sound again, and for a moment, both Aurors could have sworn she was laughing.
"Until then," Dumbledore continued, "I suggest we all focus on more pressing matters. Like ensuring young Harry actually gets the rest Poppy prescribed, rather than entertaining a constant stream of visitors?"
Harry Potter
"Harry!" Hermione's voice rang out as she practically flew to his bedside, enveloping him in a crushing hug. "Are you alright? What happened? We were so worried!"
Before Harry could even draw breath to respond, another set of arms wrapped around him as Susan joined the group hug. "Don't you ever scare us like that again!"
A loud, deliberate whistle cut through the air. The three turned to see Tonks leaning against the doorframe, a mischievous grin on her face.
"Well, well, well," she drawled, her hair shifting to a teasing pink. "Not even twelve and already got two lovely witches fighting over you, Potter? You work fast!"
"Tonks!" Hermione and Susan squeaked simultaneously, jumping back from Harry as their faces turned brilliant shades of red.
Harry decided to play along. He stretched dramatically and put his hands behind his head with an exaggerated smirk. "What can I say? Must be my natural charm and heroic personality."
"Oh, you!" Susan swatted his arm playfully.
"Prat," Hermione added, giving him a gentle shove, though she was fighting back a smile.
"Don't forget your dashing good looks and that messy hair that just screams 'trouble'," Tonks winked, making Harry's hair momentarily match his own.
"The girls just can't resist it," Harry ran a hand through his hair in an overdramatic impression of preening, causing all three girls to burst out laughing.
Tonks's expression suddenly turned more serious. "Speaking of irresistible creatures, where's your furry shadow? I haven't seen Itisa around."
Harry's playful demeanor vanished instantly. "She's with Dumbledore," he frowned, pushing himself up from the bed. "I need to—"
His legs wobbled as soon as he tried to put weight on them, and both Hermione and Susan rushed to steady him.
"You need to stay in bed!" Hermione insisted.
"You're exhausted, Harry," Susan added firmly. "Whatever happened with Quirrell took a lot out of you."
"I don't care," Harry argued, though he was already breathing heavily from just trying to stand. "I need to make sure Itisa is—"
The hospital wing door burst open, and a familiar blur shot across the room. Itisa launched herself directly into Harry's arms, nearly knocking him back onto the bed. He caught her, hugging her tightly as she pressed her head against his chest, purring loud enough for everyone to hear.
"I missed you too, girl," Harry murmured into her fur, his voice thick with emotion. "Are you okay? They didn't bother you too much, did they?"
Itisa pulled back just enough to give him a look that clearly said, 'Please, as if they could.'
"Merlin's pants," Tonks breathed, staring at the reunion with wide eyes. "I've never seen a familiar bond that strong before."
"That's because they're not just familiar and wizard," Hermione said softly. "They're family."
Susan nodded in agreement, watching as Harry checked Itisa over for any signs of distress, while the cat did the same to him, both of them seemingly forgetting anyone else was in the room.
"Well," Tonks grinned, her hair shifting to a warm golden color, "I guess we know who the real love of Harry's life is."
"Oh, definitely," Susan laughed. "We never stood a chance against those purrs and whiskers."
"Speaking of which," Hermione added with a smirk, "Itisa's the only girl Harry's allowed to cuddle with right now. He needs rest!"
"Yes, ma'am!" Harry mock saluted, finally settling back into bed with Itisa curled up protectively against his side. "Though I notice you're not chasing Tonks out."
"That's because I'm clearly here in an official capacity," Tonks said with exaggerated dignity, then ruined it by morphing her nose into a cat's nose and whiskers. "See? Professional supervision."
"Professional troublemaker, more like," Susan giggled.
"I prefer 'chaos consultant,'" Tonks corrected primly, making her hair cycle through rainbow colors.
Harry laughed, then yawned widely.
"Alright, that's our cue," Hermione said softly. "Come on, let's let them rest."
"We'll come back later," Susan promised, patting Harry's foot.
"Bring snacks!" Harry called after them sleepily.
"Bring snacks, he says," Tonks chuckled as they headed for the door. "Boy faces down a Dark Lord and his first coherent request is for snacks."
Once he was alone, he sat up, and turned to look at his friend. Harry's eyes shifted, the green darkening and pupils elongating into slits. When he spoke, his voice took on a strange quality - deeper, with an undertone that seemed to vibrate in the air like a distant growl.
"Did they figure anything out?" The words came out with a subtle hiss, though still clearly English. Itisa merely gave him a look that somehow managed to convey both amusement and exasperation, clearly unable to respond verbally despite his changed eyes.
A sudden crackle of electricity filled the air, and a brilliant flash of white-blue lightning streaked through the room. When it faded, Hedwig materialized in its wake, her feathers still crackling with energy.
"Hedwig!" Harry's voice returned to normal as he greeted his other companion. She landed on his right shoulder, preening his hair affectionately.
Itisa, from her position on Harry's left shoulder, gave Hedwig a look that could only be described as long-suffering annoyance. Hedwig returned the look with equal measure.
The sound of slow clapping made all three turn toward the door. An elderly man stood there, his silver hair wild and unkempt, but his eyes bright with fascination and warmth. He was wearing a blue coat that had clearly seen better days, covered in various patches and scorch marks.
"Remarkable," he said softly, closing the door behind him. He pulled out his wand and cast a quick silencing charm before continuing. "Simply remarkable. It's been, oh, must be ten years since I've last seen a Stormbird."
"You know Hedwig is not just an owl?" Harry asked carefully.
"No more than your other friend is 'just a cat,'" the man's eyes twinkled as he glanced at Itisa, who met his gaze. "Stormbirds are incredibly rare magical creatures. They're often mistaken for thunderbirds, but they're actually quite different. More solitary, for one thing, and far more selective about their companions."
Hedwig puffed up proudly at this description, while Itisa rolled her eyes in a remarkably human gesture.
Harry tensed instinctively when the man's gaze lingered on Itisa. But to his surprise, Itisa remained perfectly calm, almost... interested in the stranger. It was so unlike her usual wary behavior with new people that it made Harry take a closer look at their visitor.
Those eyes... he knew those eyes. He'd spent countless hours staring at them on the cover of his favorite book, the one he'd read over and over.
"You're THE Newt Scamander!" Harry nearly shouted, then quickly lowered his voice, remembering they were in the hospital wing.
The old man chuckled warmly, his weathered face crinkling with amusement as he stepped forward, his battered leather briefcase swinging gently at his side. "That would be me," he said, stroking his short white beard thoughtfully. "But please, call me Newt. Being called 'Mr. Scamander' makes me feel old."
Harry couldn't help but grin at that. Here was the man who'd written the book he'd practically memorized, the wizard who'd documented more magical creatures than anyone in history, standing right in front of him.
Newt's eyes twinkled as he regarded Harry, a knowing smile playing at his lips. "And you," he said softly, "are Harry Potter. The boy with a Nundu."
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章節 19: The Impossible Familiar
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Chapter 20 (Do you want to be a Magizoologist?), Chapter 21 (Runes and Shadows), Chapter 22 (The Bridge Between Worlds), Chapter 23 (A Nundu's Gift), Chapter 24 (A Grand Prank), Chapter 25 (First Year Ends), Chapter 26 (Magic & Politics), Chapter 27 (Letters, Contracts, and Other Complications), Chapter 28 (When Loves Makes Home), Chapter 29 (A Nundu in France), Chapter 30 (The Minister's Request), and Chapter 31 (Abyssantica) are already available for Patrons.
Harry's mind raced through his options. For a brief moment, he considered denying it, playing dumb, but one look at Newt Scamander's experienced eyes told him that would be futile. This was the man who had documented more magical creatures than anyone in history - if anyone could recognize a Nundu, it would be him.
Itisa seemed to sense his internal struggle, pressing closer against his side. Her presence was comforting, but it also heightened his fear. He wasn't strong enough yet to protect her if things went wrong, and if word got out about what she really was...
"What..." Harry's voice cracked slightly, and he had to clear his throat before continuing. "What do you want?"
Newt's expression softened immediately as he caught the fear in Harry's voice. "My dear boy," he said gently, pulling his chair closer, "I think you misunderstand my intentions entirely. The fact that your companion is a Nundu will remain our little secret - for now, at least."
The tension in Harry's shoulders eased slightly, but suspicion remained. "Why would you keep it secret? Aren't Nundus supposed to be the most dangerous magical creatures in the world?"
"According to most texts, yes," Newt nodded, his eyes twinkling. "But I've learned over my rather long life that 'dangerous' is a rather subjective term. I once knew a Graphorn that was gentler than most house cats, and a Bowtruckle that was more aggressive than a dragon with a toothache."
Itisa made a sound that was suspiciously like a snort, and Hedwig ruffled her feathers in what seemed to be amusement.
"Who sent you?" Harry asked, feeling a bit more comfortable but still cautious. "Was it the Ministry?"
"Actually, it was Albus," Newt replied, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out several pieces of parchment. "He's been sending me letters for months now, asking increasingly specific questions about dangerous magical creatures. Though he never quite mentioned it was about a Nundu." He chuckled, shaking his head. "Clever old fox, keeping that detail to himself until he knew I was already interested."
"What kind of questions?"
"Oh, all sorts. Whether certain magical creatures could form familiar bonds out of nowhere, if there were any documented cases of naturally occurring size-changing abilities in predatory magical species, if I'd ever encountered creatures that could mask their magical signatures..." Newt's eyes twinkled. "He was quite thorough in his research, though I must admit, I thought he was asking about a particularly unusual kneazle or perhaps even a leucrotta. A Nundu never crossed my mind."
Harry glanced at Itisa, who was watching Newt with what appeared to be grudging respect. "So... what happens now?"
"Well," Newt set his briefcase on the floor and opened it with a series of complicated clicks, "I'm here to conduct a few simple tests - nothing invasive or uncomfortable, I assure you - to determine if she's safe to remain at Hogwarts."
"But she is safe!" Harry protested. "She's never hurt anyone! Well, except Quirrell, but he was trying to kill me, so..."
"And that's precisely the kind of thing I need to document," Newt said calmly. "The fact that she shows clear discretion in using her abilities, that she's formed a protective bond rather than a predatory one, that she demonstrates advanced reasoning and emotional intelligence - these are all crucial factors."
Hedwig chirped what sounded like agreement, earning an eye roll from Itisa.
"Think of it this way," Newt continued, pulling out what looked like a series of crystal instruments from his case. "Right now, the only people who know what Itisa truly is are in this room and Albus. But secrets have a way of coming out eventually, especially in a place like Hogwarts. When - not if, but when - others discover the truth, wouldn't it be helpful to have documented proof that she's not a threat?"
Harry hadn't thought of it that way. "What kind of tests?"
"Nothing too dramatic," Newt assured him. "Mostly observational. I'd like to measure her magical signature in various states - calm, protective, alert. Document her size-changing abilities and the control she exhibits over them. Perhaps most importantly, I want to understand the nature of your bond."
"Our bond?"
"Yes, it's quite extraordinary, you see. Nundus are typically solitary creatures. They don't form bonds, magical or otherwise. The fact that Itisa has not only bonded with you but also maintains a relatively peaceful coexistence with a Stormbird..." he glanced at Hedwig with obvious fascination. "Well, it's unprecedented."
Itisa made a show of yawning disinterestedly, but Harry could tell she was pleased by the assessment.
"And you won't tell anyone? Promise?" Harry pressed.
"My boy, I've kept far more dangerous secrets than this," Newt smiled. "Did you know I once harbored an Obscurial in this very castle? Right under the Ministry's nose, too. Compared to that, keeping quiet about a well-behaved Nundu who's already saved at least one life is hardly a challenge."
Harry blinked. "You did what?"
"Story for another time," Newt waved his hand dismissively, though his eyes held a hint of old sorrow. "The point is, your secret is safe with me. In fact..." he reached into his briefcase again and pulled out a worn leather journal, "I'd like to document everything properly. With your permission, of course. No names or identifying details, just the unprecedented case of a Nundu forming a familiar bond. It could be invaluable research for future generations."
"Research?" Harry asked skeptically.
"Oh yes. Think about it - how many other magical creatures have been wrongly classified as nothing but dangerous? How many potential bonds have been prevented by fear and prejudice?" Newt's eyes lit up with passion. "Your case could help change how we view and interact with magical creatures for decades to come."
Itisa sat up straighter, suddenly looking much more interested in the conversation.
"Of course," Newt added with a slight smirk, "any such research wouldn't be published until long after you've left Hogwarts. Perhaps not even until you're ready to reveal Itisa's true nature yourself."
Harry felt the last of his tension drain away. This wasn't an enemy or a threat - this was someone who truly understood and wanted to help.
"Alright," he nodded. "Where do we start?"
"Excellent!" Newt beamed, pulling out more instruments from his seemingly bottomless briefcase. "Though perhaps we should wait until you're a bit stronger. I suspect Madam Pomfrey would have my head if I tired you out now."
As if on cue, they heard footsteps approaching the hospital wing.
"Ah," Newt quickly packed away his instruments. "Perhaps we should continue this conversation tomorrow. For now, I'm simply here as a concerned magizoologist checking on an unusual but perfectly normal magical cat."
He winked at Harry just as the hospital wing doors opened, and Harry couldn't help but smile. Maybe, just maybe, things were going to work out after all.
Harry sank back into his pillows after Newt left the room, feeling a peculiar mix of emotions. Despite his lingering anger at Dumbledore for leaving him with the Dursleys, he couldn't help but feel grateful that the old wizard had reached out to Newt Scamander instead of someone else. Anyone else might have immediately reported Itisa to the Ministry, and then...he didn't even want to think about what might have happened.
The hospital wing doors burst open, and Madam Pomfrey strode in, muttering under her breath about "constant interruptions" and "students who need rest."
"Honestly," she huffed, checking Harry's vitals with practiced movements of her wand, "how is anyone supposed to recover with half the school trying to squeeze in visits?"
"Well," Harry said with an innocent smile, "I suppose you could always transfigure the doors into a wall. Though knowing Fred and George, they'd probably just blast through it."
Madam Pomfrey's lips twitched despite her attempt to maintain a stern expression. "Don't give those two any ideas, Mr. Potter. Now, you need to sleep."
"But where's Professor McGonagall?" Harry asked, trying to stay awake despite his heavy eyelids. "I wanted to ask her about—"
"Presumably teaching her classes, as professors tend to do," Pomfrey replied dryly. "The world hasn't stopped turning just because you decided to have an adventure with a possessed professor."
"What about Mad-Eye and Madam Bones? Where did they—"
"Mr. Potter," Pomfrey interrupted, placing her hands on her hips, "I am a healer, not the Weasley twins' map of mischief. I don't track the whereabouts of every person in this castle. What I do track is my patients' need for rest, which you are currently resisting."
Itisa made a noise that sounded suspiciously like agreement, curling up more firmly against Harry's side.
"Traitor," Harry mumbled to her, but he was already feeling sleep tugging at him more insistently.
"Smart cat," Pomfrey approved, adjusting his blankets. "Now sleep, or I'll be forced to use a sleeping charm."
Harry's last conscious thought was that Itisa and Madam Pomfrey were definitely going to gang up on him about resting properly from now on.
Tomorrow
Meanwhile, in Dumbledore's office, Newt Scamander sat in a comfortable armchair, examining one of the many silver instruments whirring on the headmaster's desk while Fawkes watched him with interest. Newt had noticed that Fawkes seemed different than usual, but he decided to ask about it later.
"This reminds me of that time in Bulgaria," Newt mused, "when you convinced that group of vampire hunters that their quarry was actually a misunderstood vegetarian."
Dumbledore chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "As I recall, he was actually a vegetarian - he just had an unfortunate addiction to tomato juice that made quite a mess."
"And that poor fellow in Romania who thought his house was haunted by a poltergeist..."
"When it was actually just a very enthusiastic Jarvey who had learned to imitate ghost noises," Dumbledore finished. "Though I must say, its vocabulary was quite impressive, if somewhat inappropriate for polite company."
"Those were simpler times," Newt sighed, setting down the instrument. "Though I must say, Albus, you've outdone yourself this time. A Nundu? In Hogwarts?"
"Ah, but she's not just any Nundu, is she?" Dumbledore replied. "You've seen her with young Harry."
"Indeed. The bond between them is remarkable. I've never seen anything quite like it, and that's saying something considering my experience with unusual creatures."
Their conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door. "Enter," Dumbledore called out.
Hermione Granger and Susan Bones stepped into the office, both looking slightly nervous but determined.
"Miss Granger, Miss Bones," Dumbledore greeted them warmly. "Please sit down. Do you want a sherbet?"
"No, thank you, Professor." The two girls said right away, looking a bit nervous about being in the Headmaster's office as they sat down, waiting for them to tell them what they were here for.
As the girls quickly declined the offered sweets, Newt turned to Dumbledore with a wry smile.
"Really, Albus? Still trying to push those Muggle sweets on unsuspecting students? I remember when you first discovered them in 1937 - you practically bought out that little shop in Bristol. Though I must say, watching Phineas Nigellus's portrait try one was worth every moment. I don't think I've ever seen a painting splutter quite so indignantly."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with mischief. "As I recall, Newton, you were the one who suggested enchanting them to hop around his frame. The poor man refused to visit his portrait for a month."
"A marked improvement in the atmosphere, if you ask me," Newt muttered under his breath, just loud enough for the girls to hear, causing them to stifle their giggles.
As Newt was writing something in his notepad, he noticed the girls were quite nervous. "There's no need for that; you two are not in trouble," Newt says without looking away from his notepad. We just need to ask you a few questions about Harry and his little cat friend. Can you answer a few questions?" Newt asked gently, speaking warmly, and the two girls nodded for him to continue.
"So," Newt began, "tell me about Itisa. How does she behave around other students?"
Hermione shifted in her seat. "Well, she's very intelligent - more than any magical cat I've ever read about. She seems to understand conversations perfectly."
"And she's incredibly protective of Harry," Susan added. "Though she's never aggressive unless someone threatens him."
"Have you ever seen her wandering the castle alone?" Newt asked, his quill scratching against the parchment.
Hermione shook her head. "Actually, you might want to ask the Slytherins about that. Since Harry's in their house, they'd know better than us."
"Already arranged," Dumbledore interjected smoothly. "Young Mr. Sallow and his sister will be joining us shortly."
"Has she ever displayed any... unusual behavior?" Newt pressed carefully.
Hermione's hand twitched slightly, and she glanced quickly at Dumbledore before responding. "Nothing really alarming. She's just very smart and very protective."
Newt noticed her slight hesitation but chose not to comment. Instead, he asked, "What about other animals? How does she interact with them?"
"She gets along well with Hedwig," Susan offered. "Actually, it's quite funny to watch them sometimes. They act like old friends who enjoy bickering."
"Though she doesn't really interact with other pets," Hermione added. "She mostly ignores them, actually. And she definitely doesn't like being petted by strangers."
"Or even friends," Susan chuckled. "I tried once, and she just gave me this look that clearly said 'Don't even think about it.'"
"But she's never hurt anyone?" Newt asked, continuing to take notes.
Both girls shook their heads emphatically. Hermione opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed it again, drawing another curious glance from Newt.
"She's protected Harry, though," Susan said. "I heard there was an incident with Draco Malfoy, and Itisa protected him from him."
"Yes," Hermione agreed quickly, perhaps too quickly. "But only because Draco was being an ass as usual."
Newt wrote something else in his notepad, his expression neutral. "And you've never seen her display any unusual abilities? Anything that seemed... beyond what a magical cat should be capable of?"
The girls exchanged glances. "No," they said in unison, though Hermione's hand twitched again.
"Well, thank you both for your help," Newt said, closing his notepad. "This has been most informative."
As if on cue, there was a knock at the door, presumably the Sallow siblings arriving for their turn.
"Miss Granger, Miss Bones, thank you for your time," Dumbledore said, rising to show them out. "I trust you understand the importance of keeping these questions between us?"
"Of course, Professor," Hermione nodded, standing up. She paused at the door, glancing back at Newt. "Mr. Scamander... Harry and Itisa, they're not in any trouble, are they?"
"Not at all," Newt assured her with a kind smile. "Just a routine check-up, you might say."
As the girls left, Newt turned to Dumbledore. "The Granger girl knows something more than she's saying."
"Indeed," Dumbledore agreed, his eyes twinkling. "But she's chosen to keep it to herself out of loyalty to her friend. Rather admirable, wouldn't you say?"
"Quite," Newt agreed, flipping through his notes. "Though I suspect it has something to do with that troll incident you mentioned."
Before Dumbledore could respond, another knock announced the arrival of the Sallow siblings.
The door opened, and Sebastian Sallow entered with his sister Anna. Newt's eyes immediately noticed the girl's unusually pale complexion, and a slight frown creased his forehead. Years of working with various magical maladies and creatures had given him a keen eye for signs of illness.
"Ah, Mr. Sallow, Miss Sallow," Dumbledore greeted warmly. "Thank you for joining us."
"Good afternoon, Professor," Sebastian replied politely, keeping a protective hand on his sister's shoulder. His eyes turned to Newt curiously. "And you are...?"
Before Newt could introduce himself, Anna's face lit up with recognition, her pale features animated with sudden excitement. "Oh! You're Newt Scamander! The best Magizoologist in the history of magic since Merlin himself!" She bounced slightly on her feet before a small cough escaped her. "I've read all about your discoveries and adventures!"
Newt's face softened into a genuine smile. "Thank you, my dear. That's very kind of you to say. Do you have an interest in magical creatures?"
"Interest?" Sebastian chuckled. "She wants to be you when she grows up. Our room at home is practically wallpapered with articles about your discoveries."
Anna nodded enthusiastically. "I want to travel the world and study magical creatures too! I've already started keeping notes about all the creatures I read about, and I practice drawing them." She started to do a little excited dance but was interrupted by another cough.
Sebastian quickly helped her into one of the chairs. Newt exchanged a meaningful glance with Dumbledore, silently communicating his intention to discuss the girl's condition later.
"Well then," Newt said gently, pulling out his notepad again, "this won't take long. We just have a few questions about Harry and Itisa. I understand you're quite close to them?"
"Harry's my friend," Sebastian confirmed. "Pretty much my only real friend in Slytherin, if I'm being honest. The others..." he trailed off, shrugging.
"And Itisa is amazing!" Anna added, her eyes bright despite her pallor. "She's so smart, and she always knows when Harry needs help. Did you know she can tell when he's having nightmares? Sebastian says she wakes Harry up before they get too bad."
Newt's quill moved quickly across the parchment. "Does she? That's quite remarkable. What else have you noticed about her behavior?"
"Well," Sebastian considered, "she's very particular about who she lets near Harry. She seems to have a sixth sense of people's intentions. Like with Quirrell - she never liked him, always got between him and Harry in class, and Harry even told me that the moment he entered the main hall on the first day, Itisa didn't seem to like Professor Quirrell right away."
"Smart cat," Newt murmured, making another note.
"She won't let me pet her," Anna said, sounding more amused than disappointed. "I don't mind though. But sometimes, when I'm not feeling well and Harry brings her to visit me in the hospital wing, she lets me sit near her while I read. It's nice."
Newt's expression softened further. "You spend a lot of time in the hospital wing?"
Sebastian squeezed his sister's shoulder gently. "Anna has... a condition. The healers are still working on it."
"I see," Newt said thoughtfully, making another note in the margin of his pad. "And Itisa behaves differently when visiting you?"
"She's calmer," Anna explained. "Usually, she's very alert, always watching everything. But when she visits me, she just... relaxes. Like she knows I'm not a threat." She grinned. "Though she still won't let me pet her."
"Have you ever seen her wandering the castle alone?" Newt asked, returning to his original questions.
Sebastian shook his head. "Never. She's always with Harry, or at least nearby. Though sometimes at night, when Harry's asleep, she does patrol around our dormitory. Never goes far though."
"Patrol?" Newt's eyebrows raised slightly.
"Yeah, like she's checking for threats or something. Makes these really quiet rounds, just padding around the edges of the room. It's actually quite comforting, knowing she's keeping watch."
"And have you ever seen her display any unusual abilities?" Newt asked carefully. "Anything that seemed... extraordinary?"
The siblings exchanged glances. "Well," Sebastian said slowly, "she's definitely smarter than any cat I've ever met. And sometimes she seems to know things before they happen. Like that time with the cursed letter?"
Anna nodded. "She knocked it right out of Harry's hands before he could open it. Professor Snape said later it was filled with undiluted bubotuber pus."
"But nothing... larger?" Newt pressed. "No unusual physical capabilities?"
"Other than being the most graceful cat ever?" Anna smiled. "She moves like she's dancing sometimes. I wish I could move like that." She demonstrated with her hands, then had to pause for another small coughing fit.
Sebastian rubbed her back gently. "Maybe we should wrap this up? Anna needs her rest."
"Of course," Newt agreed immediately, closing his notepad. "Just one more question - has Itisa ever shown any signs of aggression? Even in defending Harry?"
"Only when necessary," Sebastian said firmly. "She's protective, but not aggressive. She usually just... positions herself between Harry and whatever she perceives as a threat. Though," he added with a slight smirk, "she did once trip Malfoy when he was being particularly nasty to Harry. Made it look completely accidental too."
"I see," Newt said, fighting back a smile. "Well, thank you both for your time. This has been very helpful."
As Sebastian helped Anna up, she turned to Newt with hopeful eyes. "Mr. Scamander? Would you... would you tell me about some of your adventures sometime? When I'm feeling better?"
Newt glanced at Dumbledore, who nodded almost imperceptibly. "I would be delighted, my dear. Perhaps next time I visit, we could have a proper chat about magical creatures. I might even share some stories that didn't make it into the books."
Anna's face lit up with joy, and even Sebastian looked grateful. As they left the office, Newt turned to Dumbledore with a serious expression.
"Albus, that girl..."
"Yes," Dumbledore sighed. "A rare magical malady. St. Mungo's is still searching for a cure."
"I may know someone who could help," Newt said thoughtfully. "A healer I met in Tibet who specializes in unusual magical ailments. Would you mind if I made some inquiries?"
"Not at all," Dumbledore replied, his eyes twinkling. "I was rather hoping you might offer. Now, about Itisa..."
"Yes, about Itisa," Newt said, reviewing his notes. "It seems our young Nundu has quite the support network, whether she knows it or not. Though I must say, Albus, a cursed letter? In a school?"
"Ah, yes," Dumbledore stroked his beard. "That particular incident led to some rather enhanced mail screening procedures. Though I must admit, Itisa's intervention was rather more efficient than our detection spells."
"Fascinating, really. She seems to have developed a rather sophisticated understanding of proportional response."
"Indeed," Dumbledore agreed. "Rather like someone else I know who once set a Bowtruckle on a particularly persistent reporter rather than something more... dramatic."
"That was one time, Albus," Newt protested. "And Rita Skeeter deserved far worse than a few splinters and a ruined Quick-Quotes Quill."
The two old friends shared a knowing laugh, but then Dumbledore knew they were alone in the room and decided to ask something he had wanted to ask for quite a while.
After ensuring the silencing charm was in place, Dumbledore leaned forward in his chair, his usual twinkle replaced by grave concern. "Newton, there's something specific we need to discuss. The Black Breath."
Newt set down his tea, his expression turning serious. "I wondered when we'd get to this. You're worried about the possibility of Itisa developing that ability."
"Given recent events and what may come, I must consider all possibilities," Dumbledore said carefully. "The Black Breath is perhaps the most devastating natural force in our world. Even the muggles' nuclear weapons, while similarly destructive in immediate impact, don't leave centuries of magical devastation in their wake."
"There are still parts of ancient Macedonia that are uninhabitable from the last recorded Black Breath incident," Newt agreed, running a hand through his greying hair. "Not even the most resilient magical plants will grow there. The magical contamination is so severe that even after 600 years, nothing survives. It's why the muggles think it's just a 'dead zone' from some ancient battle."
"Precisely my concern," Dumbledore nodded. "What are the chances of Itisa developing this ability?"
Newt shifted in his chair, choosing his words carefully. "It's not a simple yes or no, Albus. Not all Nundus develop the ability to use the Black Breath. It's tied to their age and magical maturity. Think of it like wizard puberty, but with considerably more devastating potential outcomes."
"And how old is Itisa?"
"That's..." Newt frowned, "that's where things get complicated. I can't tell."
Dumbledore's eyebrows rose sharply. "You can't tell? But surely with your experience—"
"Normally, yes," Newt cut in. "There are clear indicators: the length and pattern of their fur, the development of their inner spikes, the complexity of their magical aura. But Itisa..." He shook his head in bewilderment. "She's different. I'd need to run several tests, and even then, I'm not certain they'd give us clear answers."
"Different how?" Dumbledore pressed.
"In my life, I've encountered four other Nundus. Each one was exactly what you'd expect - incredibly powerful, highly aggressive, and fundamentally wild. They were forces of nature, Albus, not pets. Even the youngest one I met, barely adolescent by Nundu standards, tried to kill everything within sight."
Newt stood up and began pacing, a habit he'd developed when puzzling through particularly complex magical creature mysteries. "But Itisa... she shows signs of both juvenile and mature Nundu characteristics. Her size suggests she's young, but her control over her magical abilities indicates maturity. Her fur pattern is like nothing I've ever seen documented, and her behavior..." He trailed off, shaking his head in amazement.
"Her behavior is perhaps the most puzzling aspect," Dumbledore prompted.
"Yes! A Nundu forming a familiar bond? It's unheard of. They're solitary creatures by nature, fiercely independent. Yet she's not just bonded with Harry, she's developed complex social relationships with others. She shows discretion in using her abilities, demonstrates advanced problem-solving skills, and exhibits emotional intelligence that, frankly, shouldn't be possible for a Nundu of any age."
"Could she be a new subspecies?" Dumbledore suggested.
Newt laughed without humor. "If she is, we're looking at an evolutionary leap that would make Darwin's head spin. No, there's something else going on here. Something I can't quite put my finger on."
"But the Black Breath capability?"
"Based on her size, she shouldn't be old enough. But given how many other 'shouldn'ts' she's already defied..." Newt spread his hands helplessly. "I honestly don't know, Albus. And that terrifies me almost as much as the possibility itself."
Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Yet you don't seem overly concerned about having her in the castle."
"Because of Harry," Newt said simply. "The bond between them... it's unlike anything I've ever seen. When I observe them together, I'm not watching a wizard and a potentially devastating magical creature. I'm watching two beings who complete each other in some fundamental way. She's not just loyal to him; she's invested in his wellbeing, his happiness, his future."
"And you believe this bond would prevent her from using the Black Breath, even if she develops the ability?"
"I believe it would ensure she only used it under the most extreme circumstances, and only if Harry himself was in mortal danger." Newt sat back down, reaching for his tea. "The Black Breath isn't just destructive, Albus. It takes a tremendous toll on the Nundu that uses it. They usually don't survive more than one or two uses. Itisa is intelligent enough to understand this, and her connection to Harry means she wouldn't risk leaving him unprotected unless there was absolutely no other choice."
"That's both reassuring and concerning," Dumbledore mused. "Given what may lie ahead for young Harry..."
"Yes, well, about that," Newt's voice took on an edge. "Perhaps if certain wizards had been more forthcoming about prophecies and dark lords and philosopher's stones, we could have had this conversation much earlier."
Dumbledore had the grace to look slightly abashed. "You know why I needed to keep certain things quiet, Newton."
"Oh yes, your famous 'greater good' strategy." Newt's tone was uncharacteristically sharp. "Tell me, how's that working out so far? A possessed teacher, a three-headed dog in a school, and an eleven-year-old boy facing trials that would challenge fully trained wizards. Thank Merlin he has Itisa, even if she is an unprecedented magical mystery."
"You're angry with me," Dumbledore observed calmly.
"Brilliantly deduced," Newt retorted. "I'm not just a magical creature expert, Albus. I've seen what happens when people try to control and manipulate situations involving powerful magical beings. It rarely ends well for anyone involved."
"What would you suggest?"
"Be honest with them. Both of them. Harry needs to understand what he's dealing with, and Itisa... well, she probably already knows more than we think. Nundus are incredibly perceptive creatures." Newt sighed. "Let me study her properly. Not just occasional observations, but real research. The more we understand about her unique nature, the better prepared we'll be for any developments - Black Breath or otherwise."
Dumbledore nodded slowly. "Perhaps you're right. Though I must ask - what do you make of Miss Granger's obvious omission earlier?"
"About the troll incident?" Newt's lips twitched. "I suspect we'll find out eventually. Children are terrible at keeping secrets, especially Gryffindors. Though I'd bet my best bowtruckle that whatever happened involved Itisa protecting Harry in a way that would raise quite a few eyebrows at the Ministry."
"Speaking of the Ministry," Dumbledore began.
"No," Newt cut him off firmly. "The last thing we need is Fudge and his bureaucrats poking their noses into this. Can you imagine what would happen if they knew there was a Nundu at Hogwarts? Even one as unique as Itisa?"
"They might find out eventually."
"Then we'll deal with it eventually. For now, let's focus on understanding what we have here - a seemingly impossible familiar bond between a young wizard and a Nundu who defies everything we thought we knew about her species." Newt stood up again. "And perhaps we should also look into helping young Miss Sallow. I wasn't joking about that healer in Tibet."
Dumbledore waved his wand, dissolving the silencing charm. "Very well, Newton. I'll trust your judgment on this. Though I must ask - what do you really think is different about Itisa?"
Newt paused at the door, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I think... I think she might be what happens when a force of nature chooses to become something else entirely. The question is - what made her choose this path, and what does it mean for all of us?"
With that cryptic observation, he left Dumbledore's office, his mind already working on plans for a more thorough study of the most unusual Nundu he'd ever encountered, and the extraordinary young wizard she'd chosen to protect.
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