"What!" Hermione gasped in shock. She was no ordinary witch—certainly not one with dyslexia or a lack of knowledge. She had read far too many books not to know what an Animagus was.
"Keep your voice down," Solim hissed.
"Are you sure?" Hermione asked, lowering her tone but still sounding anxious.
"Nonsense. If I were sure, I'd have already gone to the professors to catch him," Solim replied. "I'm not completely certain yet. I can only act once I'm sure."
"But Neville just told me he hasn't fed that toad much lately," Hermione said, frowning. "If that's true, then what has it been eating all this time? The school isn't like the wild—there aren't any bugs for it to eat. That means there's something strange about that toad. Maybe… maybe it's not even a real toad."
"Exactly," Solim said, nodding. He pulled a small coin from his pocket and held it out to her. "Be careful, and don't panic if you see that toad acting strangely. I've placed a transformation spell on this coin—it'll only last for about ten hours. Come find me once a day, and I'll renew the spell. If you ever see that toad, throw the coin into the fireplace. I'll feel the heat from it and bring a professor immediately."
Hermione took the coin carefully. She knew Solim wasn't exaggerating; he wouldn't have involved her if this were something trivial. It wasn't that he didn't trust Neville—but Neville wasn't exactly known for being reliable in such matters.
"It's best if we can catch it," Solim added. "But don't be too obvious. If you manage to trap it, take it to the small classroom immediately—and don't forget to throw the coin in the fireplace before you go. Otherwise, I won't know."
Hermione didn't reply right away. She was still trying to process everything Solim had just said.
"Wait," she finally asked, her eyes widening slightly. "You said you could cast a transformation spell? That's—"
"Okay, okay," Solim interrupted, waving a hand. "I know what you're about to say. But it's not a full transformation spell—it only lasts for about ten hours. Hardly impressive." He leaned back in his chair with a faint smirk. "Now, tell me—what exactly did Weasley do to you?"
Hermione bit her lip, her face tightening with frustration, and told him everything that had happened.
Solim clicked his tongue when she finished. "Honestly," he muttered, "you let that idiot make you cry."
"Hermione, think about it," he continued. "On Halloween, he said you didn't have any friends. But look at him—how many friends does he have? Aside from Potter, does he have anyone else?"
He leaned forward slightly, his voice sharper now. "And now he's saying you're going to tell me something? Tell what, exactly? That Professor Snape's going to steal the Sorcerer's Stone? Even a troll wouldn't believe that. Unless someone's either gone completely mad—or has absolute confidence in their power—they wouldn't dare try to steal the Philosopher's Stone from Hogwarts, right under Dumbledore's nose."
He shook his head, scoffing. "It's not that I underestimate them, but really, what could they possibly come up with? Probably nothing more than tattling to Professor McGonagall about Snape, getting nowhere, then running off to Hagrid for answers about that three-headed dog."
At that moment, two heads appeared in the doorway—Draco and Neville, eavesdropping.
"If you're going to listen, you might as well come in," Solim said casually, waving them inside.
Draco smirked awkwardly and walked in, Neville following close behind. Both of them had learned over the past few days that Solim's training sessions were no joke. Draco, in particular, had developed a healthy fear of him.
"By the way," Solim said with a grin, "let me tell you something interesting. At the end of the term, there's going to be quite the show at Hogwarts. If you want to watch, you can sign up here. Tickets are five Galleons, popcorn five Sickles a bucket."
Over the next few days, Hermione's presence in the Gryffindor common room increased noticeably. She took Solim's warning seriously—especially his suspicion that Neville's toad, Trevor, might actually be an Animagus.
Each evening, she sat in a corner of the common room, working on Professor McGonagall's essay while keeping one eye on the lounge. It was difficult to focus on both parchment and people at the same time, but fortunately, she wasn't alone. Neville, following Solim's orders, helped her keep watch over Trevor.
While they watched the toad, Hermione also kept an eye on Harry and Ron. The two of them had been sneaking out to Hagrid's hut more often lately. Hermione now understood that Solim had been right all along. After failing to convince Professor McGonagall, they had turned to Hagrid for answers.
Hermione knew Hagrid's personality well enough—he couldn't keep a secret if his life depended on it. Last time, he had accidentally revealed the name "Nicolas Flamel." It wasn't hard to guess that this time he might reveal how to get past the three-headed dog.
But that wasn't Hermione's concern anymore. Solim was right—if people didn't want her help, there was no need to force herself into their plans. She would focus on her own work.
As she scribbled on her parchment, deep in thought, Neville nudged her arm.
"Hermione," he whispered urgently, "look—Trevor's there!"
Hermione turned quickly to where Neville was pointing. Near the entrance to the Gryffindor common room, a toad was crawling out from the shadows toward the crowded area. But this one didn't hop like an ordinary toad—it moved too smoothly, too deliberately.
"Go grab it," Hermione whispered. She pulled out the coin Solim had given her and hurried toward the fireplace.
Moments later, Hermione and Neville—now clutching the struggling toad—were walking briskly toward the small classroom. Hermione kept her voice calm, pretending they were merely discussing McGonagall's essay as they went.
But as soon as they stepped inside the classroom, two figures appeared from either side, separating them. The toad leapt from Neville's hands, landing a few feet away.
"Professor!" Solim called, raising his hand.
Snape reacted instantly, drawing his wand and aiming it at the toad. "So it's true!" he said coldly.
But even with his lightning-fast reflexes, his spell missed.
The toad dodged the attack with surprising speed, leaping aside at just the right moment. Even Neville, still sitting on the floor from being pushed aside, understood immediately—no normal toad could possibly evade a professor's spell. Solim had taught him enough to recognize how fast that casting had been.
While dodging, the toad began to change shape. Before their eyes, it expanded, limbs stretching and body twisting until, in a blink, a short, round-faced wizard stood where the toad had been.
Without hesitation, Solim cast a full-body Petrification Curse. Snape's spell followed immediately after—his wand flicking so sharply that the chandelier above transformed into a massive serpent, lunging toward the intruder.
But it was useless. The stranger flicked his wand once, breaking Snape's transfiguration mid-air and dispelling Solim's Petrification Curse in the same motion. The shattered chandelier crashed to the floor in a burst of glass.
Snape and Solim stepped back, wands raised, eyes locked on the intruder. They didn't strike again—both could sense this wizard wasn't someone to underestimate. The man, noticing their hesitation, didn't attack either.
Hermione and Neville, only now recovering from their shock, drew their wands as well and pointed them at the man. He didn't even glance their way.
"Honestly," the round wizard sighed, "I finally find a decent job through some connections, and now I've been exposed. Typical."
"Who are you?" Solim demanded. "And what's your purpose in infiltrating Hogwarts?"
"Granger, go get the Headmaster," Snape ordered sharply, his wand still aimed at the intruder. He didn't dare lower it—not even to summon a Patronus. If he tried and the man attacked in that moment, he might not be able to protect the students.
"That won't be necessary," the man said, raising his hands slightly. "I mean no harm. Dumbledore already knows I'm here. After all, this is… customary."
Solim and Snape exchanged a quick, uneasy glance.
"Come now," the man said mildly. "Why don't we all put our wands away and talk like civilized people?" He tucked his own wand into his robes.
Neither Solim nor Snape moved an inch. They weren't stupid. The moment they lowered their guard could be the moment he struck.
"What's your goal here?" Snape asked coldly. "Is it the Philosopher's Stone?"
"Really, how dull," the man said with a sigh. "And it's quite rude, Professor Snape, to attempt Legilimency without asking first." His lips curved into a small, knowing smile. "Very rude indeed."
Snape's eyes narrowed. He hadn't even completed the spell, yet the man had sensed it immediately. That alone spoke volumes about his power.
The air in the room grew taut with tension. Hermione and Neville stayed frozen, afraid to even breathe too loudly. Solim's expression hardened; he shifted slightly, ready to counter any spell. Snape's wand didn't waver.
The man, however, seemed entirely at ease. "Relax, gentlemen," he said pleasantly. "I told you—I have no ill intent. If Dumbledore were here, he'd confirm it himself."
He sighed again, glancing toward the shattered chandelier. "Although, I must admit, this wasn't quite the introduction I'd hoped for."
Neither Snape nor Solim relaxed. The man's calm demeanor did little to reassure them.
After a long, tense silence, Snape finally spoke. "Then you won't object if we escort you to the Headmaster."
"Of course not," the man said lightly. "Lead the way."
Still keeping his wand raised, Snape gestured for Solim and the students to move behind him. The stranger followed obediently, humming softly as if none of this troubled him at all.
As they stepped into the dim corridor, Hermione exchanged a worried glance with Solim. She didn't need to speak to know what he was thinking—their quiet suspicions about Neville's toad had been right all along.
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