Sunshine, shade and lively mice

Anthony strolled along the lakeside lawn, faintly hearing the shouts and cheers of the Hufflepuff team from the Quidditch pitch.

Up ahead, he spotted two familiar figures.

The Davis siblings were walking slowly in the shade of the trees. Roger was gesturing animatedly with something in mid-air—likely Quidditch-related, based on Wood's similar movements earlier. Tracy Davis, meanwhile, reached out to play with the sunlight filtering through the leaves, letting it dance on her hand and the fallen leaves at their feet, occasionally nodding.

A few chaffinches fluttered down from the branches, landing on the forest clearing in search of food, but were startled by an approaching cat.

"Shoo, shoo!" Roger tried to shoo the cat away, only to receive a glare from the ginger feline perched on a tree branch. "Hey, isn't that Professor Anthony's cat?"

Tracy asked, a hint of worry in her voice, "What's that it's carrying in its mouth?"

"Can't quite tell," Roger said, shielding his eyes with his hand. "It looks like a mouse-shaped jelly."

Tracy joined him under the tree, looking up. "Jelly?"

The cat carefully traversed the branch, then leaped to a nearby oak tree. The two students exclaimed in unison.

Roger said, puzzled, "No, wait, that thing seems to be moving. Is there such a thing as a mouse-shaped jellyfish?"

"Where did it go?" Tracy searched the branches.

Anthony caught the cat as it jumped from the tree into his arms and looked down. The cat gently released the resentful mouse from its mouth. The mouse squeaked softly, grabbed onto Anthony's button, and began to climb up his shirt.

"Professor!" Roger's sharp eyes spotted him. "What's that?" He pointed at the mouse on Anthony's chest.

Anthony glanced down at the ginger cat, now attempting to find a comfortable position in his arms. "A cat."

Roger shook his head. "No, that rat-like thing."

Anthony looked surprised. "You said it looks like a mouse, so it is a mouse." He gently picked up the spectral mouse and held it out to the third-year student. "See? It's a mouse."

Roger frowned, studying the creature typically found in kitchens and sewers. "But, why is it transparent?"

Anthony offered a mysterious yet truthful answer. "Because of magic."

The Davis siblings accepted this readily. Tracy cautiously extended her hand, letting the mouse sniff her fingertips – she had initially wanted to pet the cat but had been deterred by its menacing grin. Roger tried to deduce what kind of magic could render a mouse transparent.

"I heard there's a ritual that can turn mice yellow," Roger said. "Is it something similar?"

The mouse closed its eyes contentedly as Tracy's index finger touched its forehead. Tracy let out a surprised "Oh" and gently stroked the resentful mouse's fur.

Anthony couldn't help but be intrigued by the idea of a magical ritual specifically designed to turn mice yellow.

"What ritual?" he asked Roger, who was observing the mouse with fascination.

Roger scratched his head. "I'm not sure, Professor. Some classmates told me about it. It's supposedly a secret technique passed down in a pure-blood family. I heard it involves using specific herbs under certain weather conditions, then feeding them something, and finally reciting an incantation." (Note 1)

This sounded like a very traditional magical ritual. If Anthony recalled correctly, the process of becoming an Animagus followed a similar pattern.

"To turn mice yellow?" he asked, just to be sure.

Roger nodded earnestly. "Yes, Professor."

For the first time, Anthony felt a flicker of admiration for a pure-blood family. They had some rather peculiar senses of humor, after all.

...

After bidding farewell to the Davis siblings, Anthony walked towards the forest with the cat in his arms. Most students congregated on the lawn by the Black Lake or on the lakeside paths. The woods were mainly occupied by couples, embracing and whispering against tree trunks. Deeper into the forest, it was deserted. The mouse perched on his left shoulder, its nose twitching, taking in the floral scents in the air.

In a sunlit clearing, Anthony set both the cat and mouse down and sat on the ground.

"Spring," he sighed, lying back and gazing at the clear blue sky, a rare sight in the typically unpredictable British weather.

The cat wandered off. To control the necromantic magic that surged within him after consuming the basilisk soul, Anthony had stopped actively sensing his summons. On such a lovely spring day, there was no need to track the cat's every move.

The mouse swayed on his neck. Anthony gently plucked it off and held it up. "Go on, it's a beautiful day. Find something you like."

He placed the mouse beside him and gently nudged it forward. The mouse wandered around a bit before scurrying off, leaving Anthony alone to share the patch of sunlight with the rustling leaves and birdsong.

"Professor Anthony?" a familiar voice called softly.

Anthony opened his eyes to see Neville Longbottom approaching, his toad Trevor in tow.

"Longbottom," he acknowledged, sitting up and nodding at Neville. "What brings you here?"

"It's less crowded here, Professor," Neville said, seeming to regret disturbing Anthony's rest. His round face flushed, and he desperately searched for a conversation starter. "I... this is Trevor, Professor." He formally introduced his toad.

Anthony smiled. "Hello, Trevor. I'm Henry Anthony." He tentatively reached out to touch Neville's toad.

The creature blinked placidly under his touch.

Just then, the mouse returned. It seemed to have taken Anthony's words "find something you like" as an order and was struggling to drag a daffodil.

Anthony helped it, tucking the flower into his favorite pocket, then introduced it to Neville. "This is Mouse."

The mouse looked at Neville intelligently. Anthony added, "And this is Neville Longbottom. And Trevor."

Neville couldn't help but laugh. "Is this your pet too, Professor?" he asked. "It's so energetic. I wish Scabbers was like that. Ron was going to go out today with Harry for Quidditch practice, and he had nothing to do in the dorm." He mumbled something under his breath about Hermione, an essay, and a revision plan, then continued, "But Scabbers is dead to the world, and Ron thinks he's actually dead. Scabbers is quite old."

"If Weasley is open to it, he could talk to his brothers," Anthony suggested. "Fred and George Weasley will be visiting a Muggle pet rescue center at the end of the term. They might be able to adopt a new pet."

If things went well, he was even considering gifting the Weasleys an owl. Mr. Weasley had often complained about the inconvenience of using the Ministry of Magic's public owls.

Note 1: "Daisies, sweet cream, and sunshine, turn this silly fat mouse yellow." - Magical ritual from the pure-blood Weasley family.