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"Hi, Harry!"
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The summer between third and fourth year was a hectic time for Betelgeuse.
Before going back, the girl had written a letter home about her curiosity about Animagi and the process to become one. When she had gone finally home for the summer holidays, he had surprised her with all the materials and ingredients needed for the intricate process.
Betelgeuse had been deeply moved by the clear display of support, and she had shed some happy tears, for his amusement.
She had voiced her concerns about the feasibility of the plan; she was an underage witch still, and she could not perform magic outside Hogwarts. He had the nerves to laugh at her for a whole minute. Betelgeuse had watched, annoyed, as he regained his bearings, only then he explained to her the matter.
Her grandfather Orion Black had erected all sort of magical barriers and every security measure known to wizard-kind around the house. No one outside the wards could have noticed her or another inhabitant of the house practise magic.
They both knew that the process of becoming an Animagus was lengthy and strenuous and had the potential to rebound and cause the transformation to go horribly awry.
Kreacher had come back at Grimmauld Place with a stash of Mandrake leaves and one ampoule filled with Death's-head Hawk Moth chrysalis. As for the dew untouched by the rays of the sun or humans for at least seven days, he had said to wait and that he knew the perfect place to pick it up.
So, for her first month back at home, Betelgeuse had held the Mandrake leaf in her mouth without being able to utter a single word. The house was even quieter than usual, and they had resolved to speak through the art of Legilimency. He was a capable practitioner of the art and could perform Legilimency nonverbally and wandlessly. On the other hand, Betelgeuse was born with the ability to passively perceive minds without any difficulty.
When he had first discovered her talent, he had been ecstatic and had trained her tirelessly to refine and control it.
No one knew of her ability, not even Fred and George. She wanted to talk to them about it, but she could not fathom how they could react to the news. Maybe Dumbledore could have a guess as she remembered his attempt at invading her mind.
That old fool.
Today was the day, Betelgeuse was feeling anxious.
They had placed the now-soaked Mandrake leaf in a small crystal phial where it could be struck directly by the light given off by the moon. Lucky for them that night was clear and cloudless. They had added one strand of her raven black hair to the phial, with a teaspoon of the dew Kreacher had retrieved for her. The final ingredient had been one Death's-head Hawk Moth chrysalis. He had said to store the mixture in a dark, undisturbed place until the next lightning storm. For that matter, they had not had problems, the house was a giant black hole, filled with dark corners. During this waiting period, Betelgeuse had to, at sunrise and sundown without fail, chant the incantation Amato Animo Animato Animagus with the tip of her wand placed over the heart.
Betelgeuse now followed with her anxiety-filled eyes the tall figure of the other inhabitant of the house retrieve the phial. They approached the large bow window of the drawing-room, waiting for the first strikes of lightning.
He would have never admitted it, but he was worried sick; a tide of 'what if' flooded his mind.
All of a sudden there was an explosion of light outside in the obscure silent night, the potion turned blood-red at that. They had done it; the potion was completed.
"It's time, Meus Stella," he quietly said. To Betelgeuse, that whisper sounded like a thousand galloping horses. She gulped, accepting the phial from his firm hands; she then noticed that hers were shaking violently. He stilled her trembling, making eye contact with her.
Mercury to mercury, worried to anxious, proud to hesitant.
"Do not fear the unknown, Meus Stella. I am right here with you. I always will be," he stated in his melodious grave voice, squeezing her hand.
Betelgeuse nodded. In his eyes, she found the courage to recite the incantation one final time, and pour down in one sip all the potion. They moved swiftly to the attic, located on the highest floor of the house. She needed a large and secure place to transform. She stopped in the middle of the spacious attic, waiting. Abruptly, she experienced a fiery pain, and she felt as if she had a double heartbeat. She began to envision a vague shape in her mind. She could not understand what it was, a creature-like form.
What is happening to me?!
She vaguely heard words of encouragement from somewhere within the room.
Betelgeuse sensed her body begin to shrink, she saw the room become larger than before, and her point of view lower. Something was sprouting from her head or from her face, she could not say. She tried to touch it, but what came into her field of vision was something that shocked her, making her take a leap that she did not think she could have done before. From her mouth came an animalistic noise, which did not sound like her previous musical voice.
She directed her attention to the other person in the room, meeting his grey eyes. He was staring at her with a look of pure admiration.
"You did it!" He uncharacteristically yelled, making her wince.
Why is he so loud?
"Wait here, Meus Stella," he instructed, swiftly exiting the room.
He came back shortly after with what looked like the oval mirror hanging in the hallway. "Look!" He ordered, elated, turning the mirror towards her.
Betelgeuse could not believe her eyes. Staring back at her was not the black-haired, grey-eyed thirteen-year-old witch, but the lithe, agile, black silhouette of a cat. She looked closely at her reflection, she had sleek and long paws, an elongated, slender, and muscular body and a wedge-shaped head with large ears. What struck her the most were the almond-shaped eyes that were staring back at her. They had maintained their striking mercury colour, and they were the only indication of the peculiar nature of the beautiful black cat.
It looks like I am an Oriental Shorthair black cat now.
She was about to comment about the transformation when an intelligible sound came from her mouth. The man before her gave a rich belly laugh, of those she never remembered hearing from him.
"You did it, Meus Stella! I am so proud of you!" He continued to holler, discarding the mirror and picking her up, surprising Betelgeuse. She yelped and unintentionally changed back, making him stumble. There was a moment of silence; then they began laughing so loudly that even Kreacher came to investigate the source of the commotion.
"Is anything amiss, Miss?" The house-elf inquired puzzled.
"Oh, Kreacher, everything is fine!" The man replied. "Let's celebrate!" He proposed, dragging Betelgeuse downstairs to the drawing-room. The night was spent in an atmosphere of pure content and happiness. Betelgeuse was incredibly proud of herself and relieved not to have been turned into a half-human half-animal monster.
If someone has had the possibility to glimpse through the heavy velvety curtains of the drawing-room, they would have seen two figures goofing around, dancing to the soft music from the old gramophone, as a grumpy old elf surveyed the scene with a rare smile.
After that faithful night, Betelgeuse tried to refine the technique, often transforming, and remaining in her cat form even for whole days. The girl also finished her schoolwork, finding them interesting and challenging.
She exchanged several letters with the twins, and they had agreed on her spending the last two weeks of summer vacation at the Weasleys.
☆☆☆
If someone had told Betelgeuse Black that she would have spent the last week of summer planning a breakout, she would have called St. Mungo's Hospital without wasting time.
But here she was, plotting with Fred, George, and Ron the escape of Harry Potter. She tried not to look too suspicious to Molly and failed. How could she not beside the twins?
"We could use brooms," George suggested for the hundred times.
"How can you be so thick, George?" Ron exploded, earning a suspicious glare from Molly. "He can't bring his things with him!" He finished in a whisper.
"We could use thestrals," Fred interjected with a frown.
Ron made a face, raising his hands in the air. "How can you be friend with these two is beyond me!" He exclaimed, exasperated, glancing at Betelgeuse.
The Black only shrugged; she could not think about a plausible plan, and it was frustrating her. Ron had come barrelling in the twins' room with a worried frown on his face, talking about how Harry had not written to him even once. The twins had promptly suggested a rescue mission from his Muggle family, and Betelgeuse had agreed just because she needed to make sure they would not do anything rash or illegal.
"Dad's car," Fred suddenly muttered, pulling the girl from her musing. "It's the best and only option."
"Dad's car?!" Ron practically yelled, surprising the three that quickly shushed him.
"Freddie's right," George commented, nodding his head to his twin.
"Ron," Betelgeuse spoke at last. "Your brothers are mental," she finished with finality, earning two identical grins and a bright red flush.
The four of them agreed that once night has fallen, they would take Arthur's flying car to save Harry Potter. They had to wait till Mrs Weasley had finished knitting.
Once Fred and George had checked on Molly, and Betelgeuse on Ginny, they all met with Ron on the landing.
The house was eerily quiet as the moon broke through the windows in the kitchen. Betelgeuse found herself reminiscing a similar moonlighted night. She had not had the opportunity to tell the twins about her success in becoming an unregistered Animagus. She resolved to inform them once back at Hogwarts.
At that moment, Fred gestured for them to continue walking outside toward the garage. They pulled the car out and hopped in. George and Fred were in the front seats, Ron and Betelgeuse opted for the back.
"Have you ever driven, George?" Betelgeuse inquired. "I do not want to pummel to my own death in this blasted tin of metal."
"Calm your pants, Bel," George responded, pulling the Ford Anglia up into the sky.
Betelgeuse gazed down, watching the Borrow become smaller and smaller by the second.
"Let's hope this will go well in the end. Mum will kill us, otherwise," Ron suggested.
"Not me," Betelgeuse interrupted, bored. "I will state that you kidnapped me." Ron's ears became a bright shade of red.
"That's not fair, Black!" Fred interjected with an outraged tone.
Betelgeuse was gazing at the starry sky, enchanted by her current vicinity to the stars. "Life is not fair, Weasley," she absently replied.
She continued to gaze at the stars, playing with her signet ring on her ring finger. She did not see Fred staring at her, smiling and softly blushing. And she definitely did not see the knowing look shared between George and Ron through the rear-view mirror.
Betelgeuse was still gazing at the night sky when the bright stars began to dull due to the blaring city light. She scowled; they nearly reached their destination, she mused. Betelgeuse looked at the houses below. They were Muggle houses.
"There! That's the house, number four!" Ron pointed excitedly to an ordinary brown house.
How dull.
"You positive?" George inquired, steering the flying car in the direction indicated by Ron.
"I know my best mate's house, George!" The second-year responded.
They stopped in front of a room with bars over the window. Betelgeuse was enraged.
How can these Muggles imprison their own child?! Their own flesh and blood!
Ron rolled the car window down, knocking on the barricaded window. A figure jumped into the window, shocked. It was Potter.
"Ron!" He gaped, glancing around the car, "Ron, how did you — what —"
"All right, Harry?" George asked, raising an eyebrow at the dazed boy.
"What's been going on?" Ron inquired. "Why haven't you been answering my letters? I've asked you to stay about twelve times, and then Dad came home and said you'd got an official warning for using magic in front of Muggles."
Betelgeuse was surprised, even though she did not show it.
How can this child be so careless about our Laws?
Harry sighed. "It wasn't me, and how did he know?"
"He works at the Ministry, you know we're not supposed to do spells outside school," Ron began lecturing the spectacled boy, as Fred grab the rope they stole from home.
Harry began babbling nonsense. "Stop gibbering," Ron interrupted, "we've come to take you home."
"You can't magic me out —"
"We don't need to. You've forgotten who I have with me." Ron jerked his head towards the twins and Betelgeuse. She fixed the scarred boy with an intense look.
"Tie that around the bars," Fred instructed and tossed Harry the end of the rope.
"If the Dursleys wake up, I'm dead," Harry admitted, fastening the rope around the bars.
"Or they die if they dare to touch you," Betelgeuse said in an eerie calm voice.
The boys gazed at the Black heir, now almost sympathetic with the mean Muggles. Almost.
"Stand back, Harry," Ron instructed as the car began to rev loudly. George was stepping on the gas to try to take the bars clean off the window. They heard a clean crunch, it worked. George backed the car up, getting as close as possible to Harry's bedroom window.
"Get in," Ron ordered hurriedly.
"But all my Hogwarts stuff — my wand — my broomstick —"
"Where is it?"
"Locked in the cupboard under the stairs, and I can't get out of this room —"
"No problem," George said, opening the car door. "Out of the way, Harry."
"Leave it to us," Fred added. Betelgeuse followed in silence the twins as the three of them crawled through the window. George took out a hairpin from his front pocket.
"A lot of wizards think it's a waste of time, knowing this sort of Muggle trick," Fred informed, "but we feel they're skills worth learning, even if they're a bit slow."
There was a small click and the door swung open. Betelgeuse took out her wand.
After dashing down the stair into the darkness, Fred picked the lock of the cupboard. He, George and Harry pulled Harry's truck out, beginning to make their way upstairs.
Betelgeuse lingered in front of the tiny space, there was a plain bed inside. It looked like someone had spent too much time in the cramped space. She surveyed the cupboard again, then it struck her like a lightning, this was where Harry had lived for most of his life.
Red uncontrolled rage clouded her mind at once, she hoped for the Muggles that they would not wake up. It would be best for them not to cross path with her right now.
She made her way up the stairs in time to see Ron help George load the truck into the back of the car. Betelgeuse waited for Harry with her wand raised.
Abruptly they heard a loud voice, "THAT RUDDY OWL!"
Betelgeuse saw Harry leap across the room, grabbing his owl cage. Betelgeuse turned slowly to see the doorknob rattle and a rather large man enter, red in the face as he saw the group of intruders. Harry rushed back to the car, as the man tried to follow and grab him, but he found his passage blocked.
The girl before him would have been strikingly beautiful if a terrible frightening glare was not edged on her fair features.
Betelgeuse did not lower her wand, she fixed the horrible man with a fierce glare. "You do not know me, and you will never do. But if I hear the sole whisper of another mistreatment of Harry Potter, I will not investigate the source of his distress. I will come back here anyway, and you will regret it." Betelgeuse paused to let what she had just said down on the beefy man. "Do not think to escape and hide. I will hunt you down like a pig to the slaughter. Do. Not. Dare. To. Make. The. Same. Mistake. Muggle," she finished with a calm deadly voice.
She spared a last glance to the frightened Muggle and hopped in the car.
Fred put his foot on the gas, and they sped away.
The silence was broken by Harry. "SEE YOU NEXT SUMMER!" He yelled to his family. The group around him laughed loudly, even Betelgeuse cracked a small smile.
"Thank you," she heard the quiet voice of Harry beside her. He was watching her with newfound admiration.
"Do not thank me, Potter," Betelgeuse responded, gazing at the younger boy impassively. "I love to threaten Muggles," she said with a fabricated crazed smile.
Fred and George snickered. "Don't listen to her!" Ron added, smiling.
"You know, Black —" Fred began, gazing at her through the rear-view mirror.
"— you are brilliant, always, but —" George continued turning around to the girl.
"— sometimes you are worriedly scary," Fred finished.
"Shut up, Weasleys."
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