Early the next morning, Solim yawned, dark circles under his eyes, as he walked toward the auditorium. He had only slept for three hours. It wasn't that he lacked energy potions, but he knew overusing them was unwise. If he could avoid it, he wouldn't rely on them.
After returning from Dumbledore's, Solim had spent hours studying the Marauder's Map. Carefully examining every name, he found nothing unusual. He focused especially on the Gryffindor common room. He even spotted Peter Pettigrew in Harry and Ron's bedroom. Na Wei, however, was surrounded by only his three roommates.
Yet for skilled wizards, concealment spells and anti-tracking spells were standard. Just because something didn't appear on the map didn't mean it didn't exist. The safest approach was to investigate the toad personally and figure out what it was.
As students streamed into the auditorium for breakfast, Solim noticed Neville and a few others had already arrived. He made his way to Gryffindor's long table.
"My God, Solim, didn't you sleep last night? You look terrible," Hermione remarked, noticing his poor state—sluggish, mentally exhausted.
"Leave that alone. Neville, come with me," Solim said quietly, not wanting others to overhear.
Neville followed Solim down an empty corridor outside the auditorium.
"Neville, I want to ask you something," Solim said without hesitation. "Where is your toad—the one your uncle gave you, Lyfe?"
Neville froze for a moment, surprised that Solim had called him over just to ask about it. After a pause, he explained the truth. The toad had been acting strangely.
Neville could rarely find it during the day, but whenever he tried, it would eventually appear within his sight. Whenever he woke up, it was gone. According to him, the toad only reappeared when he and his roommates returned to the common room at night.
Solim listened intently and then said, "Don't tell anyone about this. Write down the pattern of its disappearances. Does it happen only when you're around? Does it appear just before rest?"
He added, "You don't need to worry. Treat it as usual. I'll figure things out first. Let's go back."
During breakfast, Solim's mind remained occupied with the toad. Its disappearances followed a pattern: invisible during the day, appearing at night when Neville and the others returned to rest. Where could it go during the day?
Solim began compiling the information in his mind. It was a toad named Lyfe, a gift from Neville's Uncle Argyle. But what did Argyle do? Solim knew some Longbottoms worked in organizations under the Presbyterian Church, but the specifics were unclear. He would need to ask Elrond.
If the toad were a brilliant Animagus, acting rashly could be dangerous. The last wizard Solim knew capable of Animagus transformations would never have allowed him the chance to experiment. A master shapeshifter could easily transform Solim into an animal in an instant, leaving him powerless.
Of course, it wasn't certain that the toad was an Animagus. Perhaps it only had magical creature blood. Solim would need professional advice. Fortunately, Professor Kettleburn was still at Hogwarts. Though he would retire the following year and be replaced by Hagrid, Kettleburn was an absolute authority on magical creatures, rivaling even Newt Scamander in knowledge. Solim felt confident that Kettleburn could provide a definitive answer.
If the toad were only a magical creature, there was no cause for alarm. But if it were truly an Animagus infiltrating Hogwarts, caution was essential. Solim knew nothing about the toad—its abilities, motivations, or intentions. This was foreign territory, requiring extreme prudence.
Despite feeling safe at Hogwarts under Dumbledore's protection, Solim knew nothing was absolute. Hogwarts was a school, and there were outsiders capable of breaching its defenses. A wizard confident enough to enter illegally must possess remarkable skill or powerful connections.
If the toad was indeed connected to the Presbyterian Church, what was its purpose at Hogwarts? Spying on Dumbledore? Guarding the Philosopher's Stone? Or something else entirely? If its master were a Presbyterian, what family did they belong to? Could it relate to the Rich family? Might there be an attack at a critical moment?
Solim admitted to himself that he was scaring himself, yet he couldn't dismiss any possibility. Wrong guesses were safer than right ones in this scenario.
If the toad were a wizard, how should he proceed? He didn't know the Animagus active spell, which was exceedingly rare and difficult. Its only known function was forcing an Animagus to act, offering no further utility. Learning it now seemed impossible; mastering it would take significant time.
Solim considered seeking help. Snape came to mind first—after all, Snape had shown interest in Solim's inquiries before. A wizard infiltrating Hogwarts would certainly capture Snape's attention.
The main challenge remained: how to catch the toad. If it were truly a wizard, trapping it would not be easy. Perhaps food could be used; the toad always desired something to eat.
After morning Charms with Professor Flitwick and Herbology with Professor Sprout, Solim skipped Cuthbert Binns' History of Magic class to visit Kettleburn. He had already inquired and knew that the professor would be preparing magical creatures for the fifth graders' afternoon lesson. Solim decided to speak with Kettleburn before class.
Flying lessons and History of Magic were the only subjects Solim routinely skipped. There were no exams in flying, and he disliked broom riding. Cuthbert Binns' class was monotone, delivered entirely by the ghost following his script. Few students paid attention; only Hermione seemed immune to sleepiness during his lectures.
After lunch, Solim approached the edge of the Forbidden Forest, where Kettleburn was preparing for class. The professor's familiarity with magical creatures made him the ideal source for understanding Lyfe.
When Solim arrived, Kettleburn was examining a small group of young hippogriffs. "Professor Kettleburn," Solim called politely. "May I ask you a question about toads?"
Kettleburn looked up with his usual, slightly wild-eyed interest. "Tads, you say? What kind?"
"It's no ordinary toad," Solim replied. "It's Neville Longbottom's—gifted by his uncle. It seems to disappear during the day and only reappears at night."
Kettleburn's eyes widened. "Disappears, eh? Toads don't usually do that without magical assistance. Perhaps it has some rare blood or protective charm. Did you notice any behavior or traits unusual even for magical creatures?"
Solim nodded. "It only shows up at night when Neville returns to the common room. Could it be an Animagus?"
The professor stroked his chin thoughtfully. "An Animagus? That's a high-level skill. Only advanced wizards attempt it. If true, it's not a simple case of magical blood—it's a deliberate choice. Why would an Animagus choose to live as a toad in Hogwarts?"
Solim explained his concerns about potential infiltration and the Presbyterian Church connection. Kettleburn listened, leaning closer.
"Well," the professor said, "if it is indeed an Animagus, caution is wise. You must observe quietly, gather patterns, and perhaps enlist help from someone like Snape. Direct confrontation is risky. But if it's only a magical creature, you have less to worry about—though the disappearing is peculiar."
Solim nodded. "I thought of observing its eating habits. Maybe it's possible to lure it and learn more that way."
"Smart," Kettleburn said. "Animals—and Animagi—have habits. Watch, note, and don't provoke. Knowledge before action, always."
Relieved to have some guidance, Solim left the forest, mind racing with possibilities. He returned to Gryffindor Tower, determined to document every disappearance, every movement, every clue about Lyfe.
Even under Dumbledore's watch, Solim knew vigilance was vital. Hogwarts was a school, yes, but also a magnet for extraordinary magic and intrigue. One never knew what form danger—or mystery—might take.
As he settled into the common room that evening, Solim quietly observed Neville and the toad, notebook in hand. He would catalog every movement, every appearance, and every pattern.
The key, he realized, was patience. Whatever Lyfe truly was—a magical creature, an Animagus, or something else entirely—he would need to understand it fully before acting.
And though he felt the gnawing fear of the unknown, Solim also felt a spark of excitement. Mysteries were meant to be solved, and this one, elusive as it was, had just begun revealing its secrets.
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