𝟏𝟑 - 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

                                    

                                          
𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟔𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟗𝟕𝟓
The belltower on the other side of campus chimed thrice and the Transfiguration classroom began to empty. The smell of dust filled the air as students slammed their textbooks shut and raced into the corridor that seemed to grow louder by the second. 
With all of your supplies stacked neatly in your arms, you approached the platform at the very front of the small rectangular room. McGonagall's desk was stationed at the very center, like a warden overseeing every passing note and wandering eye. 
Today's lesson was just a review of last year's curriculum – turning goldfish into galleons and vice versa. It would have been your favorite class if James hadn't already tarnished McGonagall's perception of the Potter family.
Her wire spectacles dangled on the bridge of her nose as you approached her desk and cleared your throat loudly. Professor McGonagall glanced up without tilting her head before sighing and casting them aside with a weathered smile. 
"To what do I owe the pleasure, Miss Potter?" 
You shuffled your books in your arms. Every moment since you left Moony in the Gryffindor common room was spent practicing what you were going to say and exactly how you were going to go about saying it. 
"Hello, professor," you grinned weakly. "I was just–well I was just wondering if you could grant me a pass to the restricted section of the library?"
The peacock feather quill halted its dance across the unraveled strip of parchment and McGonagall slowly raised her hand to set it back into the inkwell. "And why would I do such a thing?"
So far so good.
"You see, professor," you said, stepping closer and casting a glance over your shoulder to make sure you two were the only ones within earshot. "Ever since James...well...succumbed to his condition, I can't help but note that he hasn't done the proper research."
McGonagall was the most understanding of all your professors. It also helped some that she was one of two faculty members who knew about the marauders and their partialness toward animal transformation. The other being Professor Dumbledore, or so you've only suspected.
She blinked once and folded her hands across the lap of her robes. "And this is shocking news?"
Ha!
"Certainly not," you smiled. "However, since we both know he would never bother to pick up a book on his own, I want to be able to assist him. One of us should know what to do in the event matters take a turn for the worst, don't you suppose?"
Professor McGonagall studied you for a moment, considering your request with a suspicious glint in her cat-like eyes. Her spectacles fell further down the bridge of her pointed nose and you shifted your books anxiously in your arms.
"Very well," she sighed, retrieving her quill from the ink well and reaching for a spare square of parchment. "Be sure to tell Madam Pince that you have been trusted with my special permission to peruse the restricted section of the library this afternoon."
The pass was still wet with ink when it was thrust into your hands. You were careful not to smudge it, balancing the parchment on top of your books. "Thank you, professor."
"Don't make me regret entrusting you with this opportunity, Miss Potter."
"Of course," you said, already stepping back into the corridor before she could change her mind or question your sudden interest in the subject of animal magicks. 
☽   ☽   ☽
The very back of the library was cold and empty. Perfect for pursuing restricted materials. Unluckily for you, Madam Pince must've grown some common sense after your brother's trip to the very same shelves and most of the materials on animagi had been pulled. There was only one title that caught your attention as being even remotely helpful: Animagi Culture: The Thrilling Art of Animal Transformation by Lisette de Lapine.