"No!"
"So close!"
Two heart-wrenching shouts echoed through the Room of Requirement.
Lucien watched as Ron and Malfoy pounded their chests in frustration, shaking his head before handing two copies of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them to Hermione and Harry.
The former had, of course, claimed first place in the final exam, while the latter proudly earned the Most Improved Award.
Both accepted their prizes and thanked Lucien.
Harry flipped open the cover, spotting Newt Scamander's autograph, then glanced at the dejected Ron and Malfoy. He couldn't help but ask, "Lucien, I know Ron told me about Newt's status and how valuable a signed book is, but isn't this reaction a bit…"
He lowered his voice. "A bit over the top?"
Lucien found their dramatics amusing.
"They'll get over it," he said.
Ron was fixated on the book's monetary value, while Malfoy cared about its prestige.
After learning the final exam prize was a signed copy of Newt's book, Malfoy had privately approached Lucien, asking if he could trade it for something else. Money wasn't the issue for him—he just craved rare, one-of-a-kind items.
Lucien understood the mindset of pure-blood aristocrats, or nobility in general. They didn't care about the object itself but relished the superiority that came with owning it. It was all about the feeling of being above others.
Hermione clutched her book, beaming with pride and satisfaction. She didn't care much about the prize itself—being first was reward enough for her. But she wasn't about to turn down a bonus gift.
"Harry," she said, "in the wizarding world, getting a signed book from Mr. Scamander is like…" She paused for a moment. "It's like having afternoon tea with Audrey Hepburn in our world."
Harry's eyes lit up at the analogy. Having spent his first eleven years outside the magical world, he was far more familiar with Muggle references. Both were celebrities in their respective worlds, legends even, and Harry suddenly grasped the true value of the book in his hands.
He hugged it tightly, his mind wandering. "When you put it like that, I get it. I wonder what it'd be like to actually meet someone like her?"
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"She's elegant," Lucien said casually as he gathered their exam papers. "And kind, too."
His words made Harry and Hermione whip their heads toward him.
"Wait, hold on," Harry stammered. "Lucien, you don't mean… you've actually had tea with Audrey Hepburn, have you?"
It sounded absurd, but then again, if Lucien could correspond with Newt Scamander and get his autograph, maybe meeting Audrey Hepburn wasn't so far-fetched.
Lucien looked up, neatly stacking the papers, and gave Harry a sly smile. "If you keep up this performance next term, maybe I'll bring you along?"
That sent Harry and Hermione into a frenzy. Honestly, this revelation hit harder than learning Lucien was in contact with Newt Scamander.
"You've actually had tea with Hepburn?!" Harry blurted.
"What does your family even do?" Hermione demanded.
Lucien tucked the papers under his arm and headed for the door. "Business. We know a lot of people. You can come hang out at my place over the summer—it's pretty big…"
---
Christmas Eve
The sky was a leaden gray, cold and silent, like it was wrapped in a damp wool blanket.
Lucien patted his small qilin. "Just try it the way I told you."
"Go on."
Luster nodded, its form shimmering into a faint streak of light, shooting straight into the heavy clouds.
The moment it vanished into the cloud cover, dozens of crimson-gold flames erupted from its body, blazing outward. It was as if threads of fire had been torn from the sun or molten meteors had fused into a torrent. The fiery dragons didn't burn chaotically but danced and spiraled around the qilin's form, alive with purpose.
Where the flames touched, the icy air groaned under the strain, rapidly heating and expanding into a powerful updraft.
The stable atmosphere was shredded by this unrelenting force.
The clouds churned violently, like an ice lake struck by a scalding stone, boiling and roiling. Water vapor was instantly vaporized, rising high where it met the cold, condensing at an unprecedented speed into massive, mountain-like cumulonimbus clouds.
A curtain of rain crashed down.
Lucien raised his wand, conjuring a transparent umbrella of air above his head. Through the rippling raindrops, he gazed at the thick clouds, catching glimpses of flickering light within.
He recalled a recent conversation with the system:
"System, Luster doesn't have a magical circuit, does it? Its power isn't the same as this world's magic, is it?"
[It resembles magic in form, but its essence is different. Luster does not belong to this world.]
[It is a mythical creature from another realm.]
That answer had clarified things for Lucien. It explained Luster's unique abilities—unrestrained Apparition, horns that could suppress magic…
It's why, during that hotpot conversation, he'd asked Dumbledore if a storm could be created without magic.
What would happen? Let's find out.
Lucien glanced at the stones arranged on the ground, his eyes swirling with a vortex. Through the soil and a hidden box, his Sight of Magic peered into a crystal vial, carefully observing the magical fluctuations in the liquid inside.
BOOM!
Inside the clouds, the flame-fueled updrafts surged wildly. Ice crystals and water droplets collided violently, generating terrifying electrical charges.
A stark white bolt of lightning tore through the dark clouds.
Thunder followed, not a distant rumble but an explosive roar directly overhead.
Crimson-gold flames flickered and danced in the inky clouds, illuminating a network of roaring lightning within. Extreme heat clashed with bitter cold, spawning gale-force winds and torrential rain.
A rare storm for this season, born entirely from the power of a mythical creature, announced its arrival with ferocious intensity.
"It worked!"
As the first lightning bolt flashed and thunder roared, Lucien saw it—the magic in the vial boiled. Black and white threads, once intertwined, fused together. Between them, a vivid scarlet emerged.
In the blink of an eye, the red overtook everything, leaving no trace of black or white.
As the magical flow stabilized, Lucien waved his wand, peeling back the soil to summon the box into his hands.
Taking a deep breath, he opened it, his eyes locking onto the crystal vial.
Inside was just enough blood-red potion for a single dose.
Lucien recalled touching his wand to his chest, chanting the Animagus incantation for the third time, and feeling that second heartbeat.
Everything was ready.
Once he drank this potion, there was no turning back…
In the next moment, Luster appeared beside him.
Lucien snapped out of his thoughts, resting a hand on the qilin. The scene around him shifted instantly, and they stood in a clearing surrounded by the towering trees of the Forbidden Forest.
Before Lucien could say anything, a crimson-gold purifying flame rose from Luster's body, enveloping the clearing.
Lucien chuckled softly, pulling a small vial of dew from his pocket and floating it toward Luster.
He unscrewed the crystal vial, the blood-red potion sloshing faintly, and raised it to the qilin. "Merry Christmas."
"Cheers."
---
(Two chapters combined @´＿｀@)
---
In the clearing, wrapped in crimson-gold flames, Lucien pointed his wand at his heart and spoke the incantation:
"Amato Animo Animato Animagus."
He downed the blood-red potion in one gulp.
The moment it hit his stomach, searing pain erupted, along with two distinct heartbeats—one his own, the other the one he'd heard each time he recited the incantation.
But now, both beats were louder, clearer, pounding in his ears like drums.
This was normal. Everything was fine.
Next, an image of the creature he'd transform into should appear in his mind.
There was no escaping the change now.
Lucien steadied himself, waiting patiently…
One second. Two seconds. Three seconds…
But beyond the pain and the dual heartbeats, nothing happened. No creature appeared in his mind.
By now, an animal perfectly suited to the wizard's nature should have emerged—a form the wizard couldn't choose.
At that moment, the wizard would need to recall how to transform into it, requiring extensive knowledge of living transfiguration.
Talent and preparation were both essential.
But Lucien's mind remained blank—no animal at all.
The pain surged from his very cells, crashing over him like waves.
Unbeknownst to him, his eyes were changing. The deep green of his irises bled into the whites, spreading slowly.
His lips curled upward unconsciously.
Something was wrong. Very wrong…
"Master…"
"Master, Master!"
Luster's voice exploded in his mind, pulling him back from the pain with a thread of clarity.
Lucien instinctively looked at the qilin, meeting its clear, glassy eyes.
My face…
This mask…
In the reflection of Luster's eyes, Lucien saw a half-real, half-illusory mask covering his face. The black-green mask shifted wildly—now human, now birdlike, now resembling a tiger or wolf…
Loki's Faceless.
Animagus. Transfiguration. Change…
A sudden spark of insight flashed through his mind, recalling the words he'd seen when he first received the mask:
[A fixed form is the limitation of mortals; for Loki, change is the truth.]
Yes—change!
Following that instinct, Lucien swiftly constructed a creature in his mind, down to every vein, muscle, and feather.
The next moment, agony engulfed him again.
It was as if every cell was being remade.
His bones creaked and cracked, stretching, reshaping, reconstructing. His skin tore, not bleeding but giving way to something new—countless rigid feathers shimmering with dark golden light.
His vision warped, human color perception fading, replaced by a razor-sharp, layered clarity.
With a piercing cry, his perspective shot upward, riding the storm's residual currents as a streak of dark gold lightning, soaring into the clouds.
Luster grabbed Lucien's wand in its mouth, clouds rising beneath its feet as it leaped into the sky, dancing alongside its master.
In its eyes, Lucien had become a golden-feathered eagle.
He felt the power in his wings, quickly adjusting to the strangeness of being an Animagus.
Reaching the clouds' edge, he suddenly stilled his wings.
It wasn't over yet.
Picturing his human form clearly in his mind, Lucien transformed back instantly.
Normally, a new Animagus needed time to practice reverting to human form, but Lucien shifted effortlessly.
As Luster moved to catch its falling master, Lucien called out, "No need."
Without taking his wand, he envisioned another creature—smaller, more delicate.
The moment the mental model was complete, his form changed again.
A jet-black butterfly with vibrant, patterned wings appeared midair. Fluttering softly, Lucien dodged the sparse raindrops, descending slowly.
As he neared the Black Lake, its thick ice loomed close.
"Luster, melt a hole for me—not too big."
"Yes, Master."
A thin stream of purifying flame shot from the qilin's mouth, piercing the ice to reveal the dark water below.
Lucien didn't revert to human form. Instead, he envisioned another creature.
In an instant, the delicate butterfly twisted into a colorful koi.
Splash!
As a fish, Lucien slipped through the ice hole into the Black Lake.
Luster shrank and dove after him but found only a short, silver-gray fish with a large head staring back.
Confused, the qilin asked, "Master, why'd you change again?"
The fish blew a bubble. "Got carried away earlier. Forgot the water's too cold for a koi."
"Oh… Master, are you an Animagus now?"
Another bubble. Lucien swam lazily in one direction. "Yeah."
"But I'm a bit different from other Animagi."
He reflected on the process, from drinking the potion to completing the transformation.
Loki's Faceless.
That SSS-tier transfiguration talent, described as divine, had revealed its incomprehensible mystery in this moment.
No creature had appeared in his mind—not because he'd failed, but because he didn't need one.
Normal Animagi could only become one animal, fixed by their nature, with no choice in the matter.
But Lucien's tests had proven otherwise.
His Animagus form wasn't bound by such limits.
He could change at will, fluid and unfettered.
Maybe he owed a bit of thanks to Malfoy for that Inspiration and Divination book. Its methods had sharpened his intuition, helping him recall that critical truth at the pivotal moment:
A fixed form is the limitation of mortals; for Loki, change is the truth…