My Hogwarts has a serious problem.

Lynn turned into a crow.

It's that crow that's as black as all crows.

This was somewhat different from what he had guessed. He had originally thought that because he liked to eat sweets, his Animagus might turn into an insect similar to a honeybee.

As it turns out... the crow was pretty good too.

Regardless of the type of Animagus animal, they will provide wizards with a lot of help and convenience, but flying and small birds are undoubtedly the best Animagus form.

Not all wizards can fly like Voldemort without a broomstick, so the flying Animagus is a great help to Lynn.

Moreover, crows are common all over the world and are generally not noticed by anyone, making them very elusive.

Lynn's excitement hadn't worn off yet, especially the feeling of soaring through the sky on her own, something she could never experience riding a flying broomstick.

He first flew to the spot where he had transformed, picked up the wand that had fallen to the ground with his mouth, and then flew back to the castle, placing the wand on a conspicuous balcony.

After transforming into a raven, Lynn felt his magic was sealed within his body, and he was unable to use magic until he returned to human form.

Moreover, he can no longer hold a wand or utter spells.

After hiding his wand, he flew around Hogwarts Castle once, and then flew towards Hogsmeade.

Having mastered Animagus, why would one need a secret passage to sneak out?

At this time, almost all the shops in Wizard Town had already closed, and the only two places still with their lights on were the town's two bars.

Three Broomsticks Bar and Pig Head Bar.

In addition to selling alcohol and food, both bars also function as hotels, providing accommodation for travelers.

Lynn flapped his wings and came to the window of the Three Brooms Bar where the lights were on.

There was a splashing sound of water inside; the landlady, Rosmerta, who had been busy all day, was taking a bath.

The light was so bright that it caught Lynn off guard and blinded him, causing him to stumble and nearly fall off the windowsill.

After regaining his senses, Lynn hurriedly flapped his wings again and left the Three Brooms Bar.

Do not look at what is improper, do not look at what is improper...

Lynn was a proper crow; he certainly didn't learn Animagus to peep at girls showering.

The crow circled Hogsmeade again, and although it was soaked to the bone by the rain, Lynn didn't care at all.

He landed on a tree branch next to the Hog's Head pub, shook off the rain, and was just about to return to Hogwarts when a light suddenly came on in a room on the second floor of the pub.

Through the window, Lynn saw the hunchbacked old man climb off the bed, holding a packet of white powder in his hand, looking around warily.

He saw Lynn outside the window and they made eye contact.

"What bad luck, you stinky crow, get out of here!"

He was clearly up to something shady, but Lynn had no interest in it; he already had enough trouble.

Lynn cawed twice and flew into the sky, heading towards Hogwarts Castle.

The rain had begun to gradually subside, but it hadn't completely stopped; like a faucet that hadn't been turned off properly, it was still drizzling.

He found the balcony where he hid his wand, and just as he picked it up and was about to find a suitable place to transform back into human form, a series of footsteps approaching from afar suddenly caught his attention.

Lynn stood on the windowsill with his wand in his mouth, ready to see which mischievous kid was wandering around the castle so late at night instead of sleeping.

Soon, he saw a familiar figure.

Quirrell, a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor who wears a scarf over his head.

He seemed a little impatient, opening the doors of every classroom he passed in the corridor, as if searching for a suitable empty classroom.

His behavior was somewhat strange, which aroused Lynn's curiosity.

It's currently the time between Harry Potter's second Quidditch victory and Hagrid's dragon, Norbert, hatching.

Lynn vaguely remembered that during this time, Quirrell and Voldemort hadn't done anything else besides selling Hagrid a dragon egg.

But the way he's acting now clearly doesn't look like he's about to do anything serious.

Lynn put down the wand from her mouth, quietly leaped on the windowsill, and followed Quirrell.

Quirrell hurriedly searched for many empty classrooms on the fifth floor of the castle, and finally chose a classroom without desks and chairs and went inside.

After he entered the classroom, Lynn silently counted to ten before nimbly jumping down from the windowsill.

He didn't flap his wings, but instead, under the cover of the sound of the rain, he carefully walked to the classroom window with his two claws.

He waited quietly by the window, but he didn't have to wait long. Suddenly, a bolt of lightning struck from the horizon, illuminating the castle corridor for a moment through the window before plunging it back into darkness.

After the lightning struck, Lynn mentally estimated the time, and at the same moment the thunder roared, he flapped his wings and landed on the classroom windowsill.

Covered by the thunder, all these movements were carried out silently.

Lynn stood cautiously on one side of the windowsill, peering over to observe the situation inside the classroom.

Quirrell looked as if he had just tidied up the place. He stood in the center of the empty classroom, stretched out his wand, and conjured a ball of green flame on the floor.

The flame seemed to have no temperature; at first glance, it did not evoke any feeling of warmth, but rather a chill that rose from the depths of one's soul.

Quirrell stood beside the flickering cold flames, the green light reflecting off his face, which appeared lifeless and blank.

He seemed to be waiting for time to pass.

Not long after, around one o'clock in the morning, he finally made a move.

Quirrell pulled a bag of white powder from the pocket of his robe. He first put on the wide hood of his robe to conceal his appearance, then pinched out a small amount and sprinkled it into the green flames.

The flames suddenly began to twist and contort, and slowly, a hunched, aged figure emerged from the green flames.

Lynn, who was peeping through the window, suddenly narrowed his bloodshot pupils when he saw the hunchbacked old man.

The other person wasn't hiding their face; he had just seen this person before, in a guest room on the second floor of the Hog's Head pub in Hogsmeade.

At that time, he was also holding the same white powder as Quirrell.

Clearly, they are communicating instantly in some way.

The hunchbacked old man's figure appeared somewhat illusory in the flames, and he spoke in a hoarse voice.

"We've talked so many times already, so are you finally willing to accept my offer?"

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

We've talked so many times already, so could you please give me your recommendation votes and monthly tickets?

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