Quarter to Midnight, Hogwarts Library

It was that time of the evening. The prefects had only just left to begin their patrols and the students, for the most part, prepared to doze off in their comfy four-poster beds. Raine had waited for the prefects on duty to leave before she had surreptitiously slipped out of the Gryffindor common room, making her way with relative confidence down to the fourth floor. It was important that she looked perfectly at ease should a professor have caught her.

Fortunately the facade was unnecessary. The Gryffindor had managed to duck into a classroom on the floor without being noticed. Her countenance was pallid by contrast to her black robes; practically colourless. She wore a serious and daunted expression. The last time she had tried to transfigure into her animagus form... it had been months ago. This was not the sort of ability, at least for her, which took kindly to inactivity.

"Alright," the witch murmured to herself as she stood in the middle of the empty room and stared into space, tense. She repeated this two more times before finally drawing her wand and holding it straight.

Don't hesitate. Can't hesitate.

Raine frowned, concentrating as a tingling feeling pricked at the center of her. It grew and grew, like a bubble of pain-- and then suddenly began to collapse; she could almost feel herself want to panic as everything inside began to topple at an alarming rate, like a house of cards tumbling to the ground while the pain reached outwards. Flesh contracted or stretched short intervals and she felt herself fall forwards without really falling at all.

Because, she soon realized, she had landed forwards-- on all fours, silently. Raine's heart was pounding. Not with panic, simply with exhilaration. The stone floors felt cold underneath her soft paws, the air stank of aging parchment and somewhere in the distance she could hear (with her oddly tipped ears) a low murmuring. Hogwarts castle was flooding her senses.

If she could have smiled, she would have. The caracal cat was motionless for a few moments longer before she began to move.

At first slowly but then gracefully and swiftly, leaving the classroom through the door left ajar. The Library. Merlin knew there was no method for her to enter its restricted section in her human form: not without a note from a professor. But would the wards function against creatures?

It was worth trying. It was worth trying if she could find anything on advanced animagi without resorting to a professor just yet. This was her secret... hers and her sister's. Raine was not yet willing to share it. Those were her thoughts as she quietly stole through the open library doors, head bent low as her shoulder blades rose into prowling position. Her fur was an unmistakeable shade of rusted red; it would appear too striking in the light and she would have to be careful. Even a young caracal would look like an unusually large cat.

Footsteps. Raine slinked quickly behind the closest shelf, wrinkling her feline nose at the scent of dusty tomes. A shadow fell across the floor and she kneeled closer to the ground, unable to help the low growl in the base of her throat.

The library's great doors had closed several hours ago, banishing all but its lone employee who often worked late. The desk-lamps were extinguished though the wall sconces remained lowly lit: amber light fought silver in the aisles in front of the great windows, and the stacks were full of lurking shadows. The books rustled quietly to themselves. Without students to disturb it, the silence was heavy and absolute.

Landis leaned against the check-in desk, chin propped up in one hand, hair swept up at the back of his neck. He scrutinized the book in front of him with idle intent, one of several self-assigned readings.

Once the preliminary stages of research have been completed, the experimental can begin, he read. Heraticles writes in his Humanas Variaveratos of practitioners able to enter a meditative state which allows them to foresee their future shape, but these spells have evaded my own research of the process; such forewarning may be limited to those with natural Seer abilities. For most witches and wizards, their transformations are completely a surprise. Despite the years of preparatory work required before undertaking the first attempt, there have been accounts of wizards who gave up in disgust upon learning that their animal form was that of the lowly rat, flobberworm, trout or even slug. Except for the understandable caution of Boris the Timid in 1329 upon learning that his animagus form was in fact the rare and fragile-boned Golden Snidget, there is no excuse but human vanity for the deplorable dismissal of certain animals as less noble than the rest. It is this humble author's opinion that the ...the.... the gargoyle carved over the doorway was making obscene gestures at him. Slowly Landis straightened, closing his book. It wasn't the most well-behaved of library sentinels: he suspected a student had gotten to it at some point, or maybe Peeves. But, it was usually pretty good about watching for troublemakers, and it certainly wasn't raising the alarm now. Perhaps it was just bored. Landis eyed it for a long moment. It waggled its fingers at him and pointed to the stacks. He decided perhaps he should shelve these books now rather than later.

He headed unerringly and with the suspicion of long practice back towards the Restricted Section. His steps, already muffled by the thick carpet, were careful now with the gargoyle's warning - deliberately light, practically sneaky. The nighttime reduction of lit lamps met the arrangement of the bookshelves in a student-spotting nightmare; gliding through the resulting strips of light and shadow Landis turned his head as though scenting for prey.

A low growl stopped him before he reached his intended destination. The harmonics were guttural and positively demonic, hair-raising, spine-tingling, and instantly familiar to anyone who'd ever heard two toms in an alley attempt to eviscerate each other. Landis paused long enough for his lips to quirk in rueful recognition before taking a smart step around the next shelf. There, on the ground, was a very large cat.

Landis looked down at it. No use wondering how a cat got in; they were exactly the type of animal to show up inexplicably where they were least wanted. One of the student's, no doubt, with tuft ears and a curious shade of red. Perhaps a half-breed, for it was rather wild-looking and much larger than the average cat. Landis didn't think too much of it: wizards kept some very strange pets.

He sighed and knelt, one knee sinking into the carpet. Most of the times when an animal wandered in Landis could easily shoo it out, but this one - if the growling was any indication - would have to be coaxed.

"Come here, moggie," he said, rather too flatly to be at all enticing. He drew his wand in preparation to petrify the thing and carry it out.

The Librarian, Raine felt the growl in her throat grow louder as soon as she’d realized it was the Head of Slytherin whose footsteps she had heard. Even in the shadows that fell across the library, she could make out his distinct form. The wizard’s shadow towered over her as he approached the shelf and her body stiffen, instinctively prepared to pounce—but knowing, of course, that she couldn’t, regardless of circumstance. It was very difficult trying to tell apart her human and animal inclinations--especially because some months had gone by since she last changed.

Raine’s claws were scraping against the stone floor and her ears fell back aggressively as Morgan knelt down. She had to escape, somehow. Abandon this mission if only so it could transpire on a luckier errand. Irritating, stupid librarian. Couldn’t simply sit in his bloody office and do his bloody work without bloody bothering her. Her thoughts were less orderly in this form; certainly less restrained than she would have preferred as a human.

”Come here moggie,” Morgan said as he reached for his wand, and her caracal eyes shot to the movement rapidly. That familiar, recognizable reach for magic.

Before she could even register the instinct, Raine opened her jaws into a loud yowl, teeth glistening sharply. No! No, she was not about to be hexed like this, unarmed and… and…did he just call her moggie? What was she now, some common mongrel of a cat, cowering in his library?

The Gryffindor yowled again and felt her paws draw in closer to herself as she tensed, visibly preparing to make a sprint for it at the next sign of spell casting. Her gaze, malevolent, shifted to the Librarian’s face and then quickly back to the wand in his hand. Raine hissed.

He touched his wand and the thing yowled, high and nerve-jangling. Landis winced, then glared. Regardless he eased his hand away, because the cat seemed to relax a little when he did - or at least didn't look like it was immediately about to flee. Fleeing was bad. Fleeing meant he'd be spending the whole damn night trying to chase it down. Landis did not want it to flee.

His lips curled in an impressive sneer as he stared down at Raine. The animal was much more intelligent than he would have thought. The yowling, the hissing, the clear dart of its eyes to his wand and back....

He narrowed his eyes, trying to get a better look at Raine in the dim light. Characteristics he had previously dismissed were now thoroughly scrutinized. The unusual size of the creature, its feral look, the reddish hue, all were weighed and reexamined. Wizarding familiars frequently took on greater intelligence than their muggle counterparts, or the cat's reaction could be that of an animal which had previously been abused by magic and now recognized the vehicle. That would also explain the inexplicable hate which shone from the cat's slitted eyes. (The feeling was mutual, Landis was sure.) But this was a man who had a dozen different kind of locking spells on his quarters - who put up silencing spells around his table when meeting someone for lunch at the local pub - who was currently working for three different criminal organizations under guise of mild-tempered sharp-tongued school librarian - and who was, frankly, a brand of paranoid even Mad-Eye Moody would admire. Animagi weren't common enough in the wizarding world for most people to suspect, but when Landis saw intelligence in the animal's eyes, he also saw a potential threat. And, to be fair, they were rather heavy on his mind at the moment. He had just been reading about them.

"Change back," he said, his voice harsh and slicing through the nighttime quiet of the library with ringing authority.  "Now."

He would have forced the change, but it was clear going for his wand was an unwise move. And if he was wrong and this was just an ordinary animal, then no one would know he'd tried to intimidate a cat. At midnight in the library, there were no witnesses.

Caracal or human, Raine would not have liked that look in the Librarian's eyes. That thinking, intelligent look, which could never mean a good thing when beheld in the gaze of a Slytherin. Her growl was guttural and low as she inched back with her paws and hind legs.

"Change back," he ordered all of a sudden and the feline flinched noticeably, ears bent back once more. "Now." The wizard demanded but she hissed over his words, the intended meaning of her anger clear by its tone.

Shit. Raine liked to think that swearing was beneath her but when one is an animal who doesn't measure any higher than a couple of feet tall, there aren't many things short enough to stand beneath you. It did not look like Morgan was unsure of himself. How... how could he know? There was little doubt in the order to change. Perhaps her giveaways were not so obvious in this condition. If cats could scowl, she would have.

The problem was that if she changed, then she would be in more trouble than any Gryffindor prefect ought to be with the Head of Slytherin. If she didn't change... he might make her change; she wasn't sure how that was possible but it was unlikely to be a pleasant experience. Raine fell silent without warning, growl fading into placid and inaudible breaths.

Her options were not good. Still, she knew the line between courage and foolhardiness. The caracal stood, no longer crouching in her pouncing position, regarding Morgan carefully. She slowly took two steps back. The first time she had transformed in months and now she had to change back so quickly.

Raine closed her cat eyes and, seeking a source of magic within her, pushed outwards. It was the reverse of her initial change but easier, easier because she was expanding into the human skin she knew so well. The pain was there, stretching, but it gave way with deftness.

And when she opened her eyes again, the witch found herself gasping for air loudly, having forgotten to breathe during the process. A hand went straight to her head, fingers partly clutching at red curls as her palm pressed against a pounding pain in her temple. She was still much shorter than the Librarian but felt less threatened to be facing him on two feet. Raine glared up sullenly. The library was much darker now that she had returned to her own sight.

"Sir," she mumbled in a tense but civil voice. Raine straightened her shoulders and tried not to look as agitated as she felt. If she was lucky, Gryffindor wouldn't lose too many points over this.

Oh. So. It had been an animagus. That was... well. Paranoia proven right, he supposed.

"Ms. Almasy," he acknowledged after a moment, his tone displaying the most rare and evasive of Landis Morgan emotions: surprise. It won out even over the withering scorn (an eternally close second).  "How on earth did you learn to do that?"

He'd thought, if this was likely to be anybody, it would be a professor. The cat had Trishna's coloring, or Juliette's - he would even have expected Sandusky before he would have expected Raine. Animagus magic was hellishly difficult and took years. He'd been studying it for over a year now, and hadn't even gotten to the practical application yet. That a student could transform herself was.... well, startling. Almasy had some strong magic. It was unfortunate that her judgement remained so very poor. What a typical Gryffindor affliction.

She was a prefect, too, which was more or less the only reason Landis knew her name. He didn't overly familiarize himself with Gryffindors (barring the exceptions of his sister or their relatively pleasant Head of House). Almasy was, as far as he remembered, quiet enough. He hadn't had trouble with her before. This colored his judgement to somewhat less scathing than it might normally be, for Landis was amendable to the well-behaved children and, let's say, still so very surprised.

He remembered himself enough to add, "And what are you doing in the library at this time of night?" in the proper expected hiss. With some annoyance under the thought, he hoped she was better behaved as a human. Gryffindors were insolent by nature but it was to her benefit and her station to at least pretend authoritative respect. Intelligence in a prefect.... well, it used to be a given. Of course, he'd signed off on Ward as a sixth-year prefect, so perhaps he couldn't complain about the current downward trend.

The surprise that Raine heard in Morgan's voice was mirrored in her own expression, when he had asked her how she had learn to... to transform, she assumed. That wasn't what she had expected him to say.

A slight crease formed between her fiery eyebrows as she frowned up at the wizard, lowering her hand carefully. She bit back the immediate response that came to her head ("why with great difficulty, of course"). Everything was more stable now. More constrained. There was a volatility and wildness to being in her caracal form that lingered in the stomach but it stirred fainty; like an instinct to flee or hiss, something she could easily ignore.

On the other hand, it was distracting and she couldn't quite think of what to say, until the Librarian finally spoke again, his tone now as reprimanding as she thought it would have been earlier. "And what are you doing in the library at this time of night?" Prefectorial instinct kicked in almost mechanically.

"I...ah, I apologize, sir. I was looking for something. I was looking for a book," her gaze shot fleetingly to the Restricted Section of the Library and then back to Morgan's face, countenance earnest. There was no point in lying, was there? Anything she said at this moment would have appeared suspicious under the circumstances, anyway: "on animagi."

Then, realizing that he might have actually been expecting an answer to the first question, Raine added in a deadpan manner: "I've been learning for some time now."  She had possessed no intention of revealing her form to anyone; not for weeks or months, much less this very evening.

Just thinking about it was enough to make her want to growl again. But she persisted neutrally, while internally grappling with the inevitable migraine that followed any transformation that took place after long recesses. 

Landis looked at her for a long, long moment. "Ms. Almasy," he said finally. "Are you unaware that prefects have access to the Restricted Section? Most prefer to take advantage of such a privilege during regular library hours." It was very possible she wished to keep her research a secret by coming to read at night, but no one would have expected a girl her age to be seriously perusing the transformation. It was an interesting topic; even he would have thought nothing of it as he checked her books out.

"I've been learning for some time now."

Merlin, what was she, 16? To already be able to transform she must have started so young, maybe 14 or so... of course, some had more of an affinity for this type of magic than others. Transfiguration needed both skill and subtlety. Even so, it was -

"Remarkable," he said, cool stare interrupted by a single reptilian blink. He tucked his wand away, the lines of his body relaxing into mere workplace formality - a world of difference from the intruder-tight set of predatory intent. "Come. I will show you the books you require."

Raine tried not to look as idiotic as she felt when the Librarian brought up prefectorial access to the Restricted section. She lowered her gaze and shuffled her feet quietly, realizing that her being here past curfew didn't really make much sense at all. But it was so much more exciting this way. Any warm-blooded wizard might agree.

"Yes, well, I wanted to see if the wards functioned against an animagus form..." she muttered curtly to salvage a few iotas of pride. Curiousity worth the risk, perhaps? Almost Ravenclaw-esque. Almost.

And then, just as she expected him to start taking off points or bestowing detentions, Morgan uttered something that might have sounded like praise if it had come from anybody other then the Head of Slytherin. The redhead glanced up sharply, with an odd mix of suspicion and relief.

"Serio-- ah. Thank you sir," she replied, tilting her head to the side with a careful look in the eye. "I'm only an intermediate. Many of the books may be too advanced for me; this was the first I've transformed in months. I simply need to know where to go from here, you understand."
 
Perfectly logical, and it felt good to admit that to someone. Raine had been feeling guilty for lack of practice all this time.

"Serio-- ah. Thank you sir."

Back turned on her in order to lead the way, Landis smirked to himself.

"There are texts of all levels on the subject - intended to teach in lieu of a professor." His words floated back to her, carrying clearly enough in the quiet stacks. Animagi transformations were hardly standard in the lesson plans, though if a staff member present had the ability (if a staff member was known and REGISTERED) tutoring was not out of the question. Given their rarity there were many years when Hogwarts had no animagi on staff, making these books very necessary. There had already been a sizable number of texts on the subject when Landis had arrived, and he'd filled out the section with a few more for... personal reasons.

"Though many of them are thick and difficult to parse," he added dryly. The most thorough guide had been written in the 1300s and was, thanks to wizardkind's general attitude towards change, still considered the primary authority on the subject. It wasn't that Landis minded spending all his evenings pouring over old English, but... yes. He was a busy man. Thus the modern purchases, which were much faster and easier to learn from.

He strode over the line that marked the Restricted section apart from the other shelves and unhooked the rope barrier. It flared under his hand, matching the faint rippling of the line underfoot. The glow settled as he moved past, shivering into watchful silence. Landis looked neither back nor seemed to notice the reaction of the wards, assuming that Raine followed for the first and undoubtedly used to the second.

"Here is the section you need," he said, turning back to her now. His fingers tapped curtly on one shelf and then the one below it.  Around them books rustled quietly at the unusual nighttime intrusion, a curious few even leaning forward on their shelves. Landis ignored the threatening rattle of a couple of chained and scrappy books with as much disdain as he'd afforded the wards. He bent, briefly, to untangle the chains on the bottommost shelf, and one book chittered as he brushed a single finger down its spine. "These too," he said, almost as an afterthought. All the shelves he'd indicated had noticable slots where texts were missing - the ones he'd withdrawn to study at the counter, mostly, though one was in for a new binding. He'd show her those next if she didn't find what she wanted here, though it would be annoying to halt his studies until she returned them.

 

Treading as quietly as she had in animagus form, Raine trailed a couple of feet behind the wizard as he led the way between the towering shelves. Her gaze shifted away from his back to observe their surroundings. It was eerie in here at night, like the books (alive though not quite) were staring back at you.

But a nice, serene sort of eerie, if such a thing existed. "Here is the section you need," Morgan told her once they had finally crossed into the Restricted Section, where the literature did not so much stare back at you as they did mildly glare.

Raine watched as he liberated another shelf, indicating the dusty tomes with a form of care that she supposed only Librarians could have for bound paper. "These too," he added and she nodded studiously. The Gryffindor considered the shelves briefly before approaching them, fiery brows creasing into a thoughtful frown while long, graceful hands began flicking past the well-worn spines.

No... no... she paused to slip out a very thin, crimson hardcover that she recognized from the time Ramsay had been teaching them. It was elementary but useful. Raine continued, dropping swiftly to one knee to examine the lower shelves in similar style. Maybe...no... certainly not...

Her fingers had flown past several apertures of missing books, some she knew to have been here before. Too many. Pausing again, she remembered that Morgan was still there and looked up thoughtfully. "Someone else has been taking these books out," Raine doubted that any of the professors required such knowledge. They would be masters already. "I don't suppose you know who? There is one in particular that I might require."

Landis sighed. "The other books are at the front desk. I have been perusing them for my own purposes." He had weeks, if not months, yet to go before his first transformation. The year's worth of study under his belt was stolen time during his free hours, of which he had few, and it wasn't until he'd been hired to Hogwarts that he'd had access to ready information on the subject. Though someone in the Department of Mysteries must have been studying it, confidentiality did not stretch between sectors and he hadn't had the clearence to view any experimental processes. "When we go back to the front you may select from amongst them as well."

His own purposes were... well, Raine supposed that it must be somewhat dull, working as a Librarian. For all she knew he might be working through the subjects alphabetically. She slipped out another two books from the lower shelf and then stood, carrying the oversized tomes close to her chest and trying to figure out how she would have even attempted to get them out if she had made it through in caracal form.

Probably with great difficulty, the prefect smiled dryly to herself and followed Morgan out of the Restricted Section, towards the front of the library. The check-in desk was littered, though not messily, with several texts that she recognized. Clearly he'd been busy with them earlier in the evening.

"A little light reading?" Raine commented unthinkingly, leaning against the counter to examine the titles searchingly. There. "Toil in Transformation", by one of those unpronounceable names. She picked it up delicately before glancing at Morgan.

"Not to sound impertinent," the redhead frowned earnestly: "But my animagus form, it's a private affair. You won't tell anyone, will you?" It went against the grain, trusting a Slytherin with that sort of request.

She trailed him slowly back to the front, their walk a surprisingly unhurried affair in the dim-lit lamps partially due to the fact that Raine had an armful of thick, heavy books. She'd be better off letting them trail behind her, cushioned by the air. Of course, Landis did not offer this suggestion.

"A little light reading?"

"Something like that," he said, fingers ghosting over the cover of Hecklesprout Todbury's 1200 page manifesto in wry demonstration. She was only taking the one book, though it was a very helpful copy. He'd get it back eventually. He removed his touch from the heavy tome and slid his hands smoothly into his robe pockets. His expression was smooth as glass while his fingers, hidden under heavy folds of cloth, curled and tightened slowly in residual paranoia. It wasn't like there was any real rush. There was only one real reason Landis wanted this, and it had everything to do with precaution - but he had time, so much time. Nothing but time, really. Criminal operations had been slow after the end of the summer; he'd been keeping his head down since St. Mungo's. "More mind-numbingly dense, but that is a common wizardly affliction."

Landis was naturally inclined to keep secrets, and this one hardly counted. Unless she became in some way a danger to others (and that was the school librarian speaking, automatic traits, not Landis Morgan's tenets at heart) - "It would take more effort to reveal you than not, it seems." He raised pale brows at her, hardly conspiratory, cool and distant and as unlike a jolly winking Slughorn as could be. Nevertheless, the shadow of habitual disdain on his stone-smooth features made it very easy to believe that telling anyone about Raine was a chore with which he simply could not be bothered.

Oh, look. A sense of humour. Raine couldn't help but smirk at their Librarian's painfully accurate comment on his animagi texts. Scholars had a marvelous manner of being unable to reach the heart of any point and it was a wonder that she ever pulled herself through anything ever published before the turn of the century.

His promise, though obviously nothing at all like a promise, was most possibly the only assurance the Gryffindor would be able to extract from him. "It would take more effort to reveal you than not, it seems." She regarded his smooth expression for a brief moment- not with distrust but a perfectly calculative stare, while she tapped one of the books anxiously. Morgan had nothing to gain from saying anything and he had a fair point... it would be easier for him to shrug it off, wouldn't it?

"Yes. I suppose it would." Raine nodded once to indicate she understood. Somewhat secure in that notion, she turned her gaze back to the counter and decided that she might just intrude a little longer on the wizard's benevolence, seeing as how rare it was to find an adult opinion on animagi literature without looking suspicious.

"I haven't perused some of these," she gestured at several titles, their leather bound covers glistening with secret knowledge. "Are there any you would think I could use, at my level? I haven't quite mastered transforming in motion, it's a rather slow business right now."