Chapter 82: 82: Quickly, Use Your Impeccable Gringotts Connections

"Broken into?" Nolan asked curiously. To him, Gringotts' security seemed foolproof. Everyone knew that goblin magic operated differently from wizardry, and a bank guarded by hundreds of goblins was as impenetrable as Fort Knox. "I'm serious!" Harry insisted, almost desperate for Nolan to believe him. He looked anxious, as if afraid Nolan would think he was making it up. "I saw it in Hagrid's copy of the Daily Prophet. Hagrid cut the article out—because it's real! He seemed really bothered by it, right? I think the thief was after whatever you and Hagrid took from that vault..." Nolan mulled over Harry's words for a moment before replying softly, "Leave it alone, Potter. It's not your concern." "But it is! It happened on my birthday! We were right there. How could it not involve me?" Nolan calmly finished the last bite of his tomato, downed his glass of special tomato juice, and—popping a blood-flavored gummy into his mouth—stood up. He turned to Harry and said, "Potter." "Y-Yeah?" Nolan looked at him seriously and gave him a firm pat on the shoulder. "You're a fine Gryffindor." And with that, he walked away. Harry stood there, bewildered. It took him a few moments to turn to Miles and ask, "What does that even mean?" "It means you're nosy," Miles replied flatly. And truthfully, that was exactly what Nolan meant. Before coming to Hogwarts, Nolan hadn't held any particular preference for any of the four houses. Gryffindor or Slytherin, it was all the same to him. But after spending a year in Slytherin, his patience for Gryffindors' constant meddling had worn thin. They might not attract trouble, but they certainly had a knack for charging straight into it. There was a difference between courage and recklessness, but not enough little lions seemed to grasp that distinction. Take their golden boy for example—Harry Potter. Nolan couldn't fathom where his overwhelming sense of duty came from, as if the world would descend into chaos without him, and only he could save the day. Harry trailed Nolan for the rest of the day, persistently trying to draw out the words Philosopher's Stone from him. By dinner, Nolan had had enough. "Oh, sorry, Potter. I think Professor McGonagall's calling me," Nolan said icily, already rising from the Slytherin table. "Maybe you should head back to the Gryffindor table. Your friends look worried." Without waiting for a response, Nolan strode out of the Great Hall. Harry slumped in disappointment, only to notice that nearly every Slytherin in the room was glaring at him as if he'd just tried to hex their beloved prince. Fortunately for Nolan, the excuse wasn't a lie. McGonagall really was looking for him. The new Transfiguration spell they'd been working on was nearing completion, and it had finally begun to stabilize. With just a single drop of Noble Bloodline Elixir, any wizard could experience vampiric transformation for an entire day. Thanks to modifications made by both Nolan and McGonagall, the spell was now safe and effective for any witch or wizard to use. It had no lingering side effects... well, unless sore muscles counted. That evening, McGonagall brought Nolan's invention to her Transfiguration Club. Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration Club was open to top-performing students and met once a week. It served as a forum where young witches and wizards could gather to share their insights and theories on Transfiguration magic. Despite Professor McGonagall being the head of Gryffindor, there were surprisingly few Gryffindors in her Transfiguration Club. Nolan spotted several familiar faces—like Penelope Clearwater, a sharp-eyed Ravenclaw fifth-year. "Today, I'm introducing a new member," McGonagall began. "Although, I suspect most of you already know him." "Yes!" Penelope chimed in cheerfully. "He's Nolan Von Draugr. Honestly, even those useless goblins at Gringotts who can't guard their own vaults know who he is." McGonagall allowed herself a brief, amused smile, nodding. "I'm glad I don't need to waste my breath with further introductions. Thank you, Miss Clearwater. Mr. Von Draugr is currently a second-year, but I believe his skills more than qualify him for this club. Why don't you show them a little of what you can do, Mr. Von Draugr? Let's not have anyone underestimate you just because you're young." Nolan smirked and, with a casual shrug, shifted seamlessly into the form of a sleek black panther. His powerful body stretched and rippled as he prowled gracefully through the gathered students, his feline steps soft yet deliberate. "Oh, Merlin's beard! That's incredible! He's an Animagus!" "I heard rumors last year that Von Draugr had mastered becoming an Animagus, but no one believed it!" Penelope, meanwhile, wore an oddly proud expression. "What did I tell you? He is Felicia's little brother. Nolan's brilliant!" McGonagall cleared her throat, recapturing the students' attention. "In truth, Mr. Von Draugr's talents extend beyond this. Would you mind showing them more, Mr. Von Draugr?" Nolan obliged, his sleek panther form dissolving into the proud, commanding figure of a lone wolf. This was his favorite transformation—though a wolf's bite wasn't as strong as a big cat's, there was a certain untouchable arrogance to its bearing. Nolan thought it suited him rather well. The students were left gaping in stunned silence. Everyone in the room understood what an Animagus was, but no one had ever heard of an Animagus with two forms. The only logical explanation was— "This isn't Animagus magic!" "You're exactly right, Mr. Iverson," McGonagall confirmed, her eyes twinkling with pride. "What you're witnessing is a new form of magic that Mr. Von Draugr and I have developed. We call it Ancestry. It's simpler to master than Animagus transformation, and it allows you to shift into any creature you desire." As she spoke, McGonagall transformed into a vibrant blue robin, her small wings fluttering as she gracefully soared around the room. The students were dumbstruck. Everyone knew McGonagall's Animagus form was a cat—yet here she was, unmistakably a bird. This was the kind of breakthrough that hadn't been seen in the wizarding world for centuries. And to think that McGonagall and a second-year Slytherin managed to crack it together? It was unbelievable. Hufflepuff's Hopkins couldn't contain himself. "Professor McGonagall! Can we learn this magic too? I can't imagine how incredible it would feel to fly with my own wings!" "Of course, Mr. Hopkins," McGonagall replied as she reverted to her usual stern, elderly self. "However, there is a slight complication. To perform Ancestry, you'll need to take a potion developed by Mr. Von Draugr and Professor Snape. This potion temporarily turns your blood vampiric—but don't worry. It won't give you a craving for blood or make you sensitive to garlic," she added dryly. The students laughed nervously. "I am working on refining the potion," McGonagall continued, her sharp gaze sweeping the room. "But for now, we have plenty in stock. If any of you are interested in learning Ancestry, you're welcome to approach me or Mr. Von Draugr... assuming he has the time."