The Charles Becomes a Wizard

Sebastian didn't rush to chase Ciel. He checked the time on his pocket watch, picked up his textbook, and walked out of the room.

It was almost time for class. After all, he was a professor now, and the "aesthetics" he adhered to did not allow him to be late.

Sebastian went straight to the classroom, and Charles, who had escaped from Sebastian, ran towards his dormitory while sneezing.

The dormitory assigned to Sebastian was at the end of the corridor on the third floor of the castle. To reach the Slytherin dormitory in the cellar was a long distance for a cat that was only three or four months old.

Students walked in groups of three or five, hurried to different classrooms with their books in their hands, and few paid attention to what was happening under their feet.

Before this, Charles had never thought that from a cat's perspective, his classmates, whom he spent every day with, were actually such terrifying existences.

Once again narrowly avoiding the big foot falling from mid-air, Charles' two dark ears folded back slightly. He rushed to the wall in a panic, pressed his body tightly against the wall and moved forward carefully.

After finally avoiding the crowd and reaching the stairs, Charles felt a sense of fear as he looked at the stairs that kept changing angles and seemed high and dangerous in his eyes.

Although there were few people in the corridor at this moment, the portraits of people hanging on the wall clearly captured the extremely lovely scene.

However, the palm-sized black cat wagged its tail and circled around the stairs twice, finally half-lying on the edge of the step. He tentatively stuck his head out and looked down, then stretched out a small paw as if to determine the height between the two steps, trying to touch the step below, but he was too small, and no matter how hard he tried, his outstretched paw still couldn't touch the ground.

The little black cat let out a few childish cries, stood up again, turned around twice, and as if it had finally made up its mind, it shook its beard and jumped directly from the top step.

Then one of them lost his balance and rubbed his face against the ground...

"Oh, Merlin's red cashmere pants, what a cute kitten..." The girl in the evening dress in the portrait held her face in her hands and exclaimed.

"Ah, look, his ears are still shaking!" The lady in the portrait next to her covered her chest.

"This kid should be a pet brought by students. Oh, those students, can't they be more careful? They let such a small cat run out of the dormitory."

"Merlin, he's looking over here, oh, what beautiful blue eyes he has!"

"I bet his fur feels really soft!"

"..."

Charles, who was knocked unconscious by the fall, shook his head, ignored the portraits who were chattering, and began to summarize his experience of failure.

As long as he doesn't admit it, no one will know that he is the black cat!

No one would know that he did such a stupid thing in public!

He half-prostrated himself on the ground and stretched his body, then mustered up his courage again and jumped down the stairs. He landed steadily on the ground with the help of his flexible brain and uncoordinated limbs.

It worked!

"Meow!" Charles let out a small cry of excitement.

Just as he was about to continue, he was grabbed by the scruff of the neck again.

"Oh, let me see, where are you from?" This time, a face that looked a little ugly appeared in front of Charles. The face even looked a little scary after being magnified.

The cat in his hand seemed to be frightened, with its four little paws restrained in front of its body, the hair on its back standing up, and its eyes staring straight at him.

When Mr. Filch, the administrator who always had a stiff face when facing students, realized this, he put Charles down somewhat at a loss and tried to force a smile on his face.

"Good boy," he gently touched the black cat's head with his rough big hand, and took out a small dried fish from his pocket and handed it to Charles' mouth, "Come and try it, don't be afraid, this is Mrs. Norris's favorite snack."

The dried fish was only a finger long, very thin, and it emitted a strong fishy smell.

How could he possibly eat something like this!

Charles shook his beard and squatted there with dignity, but his eyes could not help but look in the direction of the dried fish with longing.

Of course, he himself didn't think there was anything wrong with the look in his eyes.

Filch moved his hand and saw the little black cat's head turn around following the dried fish.

He smiled and retracted his hand holding the dried fish. The next second, the little cat pounced on him.

Ciel subconsciously held the dried fish tightly in his mouth and refused to let go: ...

This uncontrolled body instinct is really deadly!

If it weren't for the cat's hair covering his face, he would have turned red. Charles felt very embarrassed, but he was still crunching the dried fish in his mouth - because he had suddenly turned into a cat, he had not eaten since morning, and his stomach was rumbling.

Anyway, I've already eaten...

There is no way to get back to the dormitory without enough strength!

Charles thought with some self-abandonment, but his mouth did not stop moving at all, and soon he had eaten all the dried fish.

After eating, he raised one of his front paws, lowered his head and licked the hair on it, then washed his face with that paw.

And then… again, I was overwhelmed by my body’s instincts.

"Ahem! Ahem!" After sneezing several times in a row, Charles ignored Filch who was looking at him quietly and continued to run towards the stairs.

"I see. You want to go downstairs, right?" Filch asked.

"Meow!" Charles turned around again, stretched out a paw and pointed at the stairs, confirming Filch's guess.

After a moment, Charles squatted on Filch's shoulders and was led downstairs by him.

The efficiency of going downstairs by oneself was too low, so Charles decisively chose a "means of transportation" that could be used as long as he acted a little cute.

Although Filch's legs and feet were not very nimble, he was still much faster than Charles. When they reached the lobby on the first floor, Charles rubbed Filch's face with his tail, then jumped out from his arms without looking back.