How the Marauders became Animagus
Sometimes, I wonder how the Marauders could have done the complicated magic involved with becoming animagi. They were only kids, after all, and even though they were brilliant, finding out how to go through the procedure and acquiring the necessary ingredients and spells was no mean feat. It seems a little improbable that even the most intelligent teenagers could manage it, especially since it was dangerous, even for experienced witches and wizards. So how did they do it?
Minerva McGonagall.
She figured out what they meant to do right from the beginning, when Peter asked a few overly nonchalant questions during a class on animagus. Peter was a terrible actor- McGonagall’s teacher senses began to tingle. They were up to something. She proved it to herself definitively by eavesdropping on a late-night conversation in the common room, and her heart sunk.
They were doing it for Remus.
McGonagall had a soft spot for Remus. So intelligent, respectful, and kind. Mature beyond his years. She could feel her resolve wavering.
What they were doing was illegal, dangerous, completely foolish and arrogant on top of all that.
But it could help Remus. She could feel it.
So, what to do?
She spent a sleepless night debating with herself, remembering the difficulty of her own transformation, the dangers involved. At dawn, McGonagall had a burst of perfect clarity.
She could not allow her students to break the law. No matter what the cause.
“Potter. Black. Pettigrew. Lupin. Come into my office, please.”
The boys were nervous, and rightfully so. They didn’t know why she had called them. They assumed, of course, that it was over some prank or another, but she sensed that they were worried she had found out about their project. She took a deep breath and was starting into her lecture when she met Remus’s eyes. Behind the worry at being called into a teacher’s office, she could see the sadness, the exhaustion, the hopelessness haunting him. Minerva traced the numerous scars on his face and neck with her eyes, seeing, in her mind’s eye, Remus, transformed, maddened, tearing at his own skin. Could it be possible, she thought, that the boys could help him? She had seen the effect they had on him. They seemed to bring him back to life. Wouldn’t that effect be even greater if they could be near him when he transformed?
In that instant, she knew that she couldn’t stop them.
“Never mind, boys.”
But she would be darned if she would allow them to go through this alone. They weren’t going to have any problems with their transformations. She would make it as safe as possible for them.
Detailed ingredients lists found their way into the boys schoolbooks.
How-To books appeared in the library.
The rarer ingredients needed for this piece of magic seemed to appear in strange places in the boys’ luggage.
Whenever they held a meeting to perform one of the steps, McGonagall was there, invisible or disguised, ready to put out a fire, perform a countercurse, or simply come out of hiding and stop them if they were about to do something truly dangerous.
It never came to that. The boys, with the tools she had given them, were well on their way to success. It never occurred to James, Sirius, or Peter that anyone knew or that they were being secretly helped. They explained away all of it with breezy self-satisfaction.
“I found a list of ingredients in my bag! I must have paid better attention in Transfiguration than I thought I had! My handwriting is great, too, look at that. That cursive is almost as pretty as my face.”
“Hey! Hey guys! Look what I have in my bag, guys, look James! Bat whiskers! I must have picked some up in Diagon Alley without noticing!”
“Gentlemen, I was in the library studying-” “flirting with Lily” “Shut up, Sirius! I was studying when I found this book! It has all the instructions we need.”
McGonagall saw them through all the way to the end and sighed with relief. It was the most stressful thing she had ever done. She had broken the law, and for what? So that the boys could sneak out of the school and cavort on school property. They could be hurt. They could be arrested. She started to have serious doubts.
Then, one day, Remus Lupin lagged behind after class. She knew he would have transformed recently, but he looked better than he normally did. With a small, tremulous smile, he placed a box of chocolates on her desk.
“Thank you, Professor.” There were a thousand emotions in those three words. He knew. He had known all along. “Thank you.”
As he walked out of the classroom, a spring in his step, his shoulders no longer sagged under the stress of his condition, Minerva had no more regrets.
