"Understood, Professor McGonagall!"
Wyzett took a moment to gather his thoughts, beginning with the most obvious features.
"First, the Animagus transformation doesn't require a wand or an incantation. It's entirely at the wizard's will, and the process seems remarkably fluid."
"But I imagine, just like wandless or nonverbal magic, achieving that kind of control must take a great deal of practice."
"Excellent!" Professor McGonagall nodded, her approval clear. "Anything else?"
"I also found some information in my research," Wyzett continued. "Animagi retain distinctive markings in their animal forms, which are registered by the Ministry of Magic…"
"And the process of mastering Animagus transformation is riddled with dangers and uncertainties. Beyond regular practice, you need a bit of luck to see it through to the end…"
McGonagall nodded again, the corners of her lips curling in satisfaction.
She could tell Wyzett had done his homework, piecing together all sorts of fragments about Animagi from various sources. That kind of diligent research was no small feat.
But Wyzett had also drawn some fresh conclusions—sparked by his observation of McGonagall, as a tabby cat, playing with a ball of yarn.
"Professor, after becoming an Animagus, do you start to experience animal instincts?"
"Absolutely," McGonagall replied, nodding. "It's a peculiar state of being. You must learn to overcome those instincts—never act on them if you can help it."
"Animal instincts… that's such a fascinating angle," Wyzett mused, his mind already racing. "What if you approached magic from an animal's perspective? Would you discover something entirely new?"
"And if someone managed to become a magical creature—say, a dragon—would there be a difference between a dragon's firebreath and a wizard's Fire-Making Charm…?"
McGonagall's eyelid twitched at his leap of logic. She was still surprised by how quickly Wyzett's mind could jump to such wild possibilities.
But when it came to Animagus transformations, she needed him to understand just how dangerous such thinking could be.
She tapped her desk with her fingers, her gaze serious. "Wyzett, I must emphasize again: becoming an Animagus is fraught with risk. You must never take it lightly."
With a wave of her wand, she summoned a battered roll of parchment.
It unfurled across the desk, revealing an exquisitely detailed hand-drawn figure—a thin, human-like body topped by a massive bull's head.
"This is a depiction of a wizard from ancient Greece. You might recognize his name from Muggle stories—the Minotaur."
"He lived on Crete and was an Animagus. During a magical experiment, he tried to push his transformation further, hoping to become even more powerful."
"His goal was to take on the form of a Re'em bull, but the experiment failed. He was left unable to return to his human shape, trapped as a half-man, half-bull until his dying day."
Wyzett studied the illustration, linking it with the research he'd found, and drew his own conclusion.
"Professor, does that mean Animagus transformations are limited to ordinary animals?"
"Precisely! And that's absolutely vital," McGonagall replied, nodding emphatically.
"Even the most skilled Animagus who tries to become a magical creature risks dire, unpredictable consequences."
"Take the Sphinx, for example—now considered a magical beast. Legend has it that Sphinxes were once a group of ancient Egyptian wizards."
"They sought to gain the magical abilities of leopards, attempting to transform themselves into such creatures. But their experiment failed, and they were forced to continue their existence as half-human, half-lion beings."
Her expression hardened. "You have a rare talent for Transfiguration, Wyzett, but when it comes to such magic—especially Animagus—you must exercise the utmost caution."
"Wizards can study magical creatures and develop spells that mimic their talents, but there will always be subtle differences."
"And because wizards can't truly grasp the essence of magical creatures, those differences are magnified by the Animagus transformation, sometimes with irreversible consequences."
The essence of magical creatures…
Wyzett's mind flashed to his experience at midday. Using Ancient Magic: Animus Imperium and the Oculus Magicae, he'd peered into the very circuits of a Cornish Pixie. Did that count as glimpsing the essence of a magical being?
But now wasn't the time for such speculation. Laying a solid foundation was what mattered most.
Wyzett followed Professor McGonagall as she led him into the formal study of Animagus transformation.
Mastering the Animagus form meant enduring long periods of waiting, countless uncertainties, and an exhausting series of steps.
The first step: holding a Mandrake leaf in your mouth. From the night of the first full moon, the wizard must keep the leaf tucked in place—never swallowing or spitting it out—until the next full moon, a full month later.
If the leaf is swallowed or spat out, the entire process must be restarted at the next full moon.
During this month, the wizard must also prepare a selection of auxiliary materials: a crystal-clear glass phial, a teaspoon of dew, and a death's-head hawkmoth chrysalis.
The dew is especially important—it must be collected over seven days without ever touching sunlight or any living creature.
If, when the second full moon arrives, the sky is cloudy or rainy, the process must begin anew.
If all goes well, step two can begin.
Under the light of the full moon, the wizard must place the Mandrake leaf, the dew, the chrysalis, and a strand of their own hair into the bottle.
Next, the bottle must be buried somewhere safe and undisturbed. If it is dug up or exposed to light by accident, the process must start over.
Step three is the long wait. Every sunrise and sunset, the wizard must point their wand at their heart and recite: "Amato, Animo, Animato, Animagus."
During this time, they may feel their heartbeat change—sometimes pounding, sometimes faint. Both are normal.
The hardest part is resisting curiosity. The bottle, with the hair inside, will exert a powerful pull, tempting the wizard to check on it. Giving in means starting over from the beginning.
Choosing a good hiding spot is absolutely essential.
At last, when a thunderstorm breaks and the first bolt of lightning splits the sky, the wizard must rush to the spot and unearth the bottle.
If every step has been followed precisely, the contents will have vanished, leaving only a blood-red liquid—just enough for a single swallow…
🔥 Want to read the next 100+ chapters RIGHT NOW?
💎 Patreon members get instant access!
⚡ Limited-time offer currently running...
👉 [Join on - patreon.com/GoldenLong]