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Sunlight filtered through the stained-glass windows and scattered a cascade of colorful light across the room. Compared to just monts ago, however, Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration classroom had fallen silent. So silent, in fact, that one could hear a pin drop.
Ian stood at the center of the room.
Under Professor McGonagall's curious and probing gaze, he took a deep breath and began to reveal his Animagus form.
His body twisted, shrank, and shifted suddenly, as though his flesh and blood had co alive. With the constant condensation of magical power, Ian's form began to change in strange ways.
It wasn't the smooth transformation of an ordinary Animagus; it was as if his body were being forcibly reshaped by an unknown force. His fra gradually shrank, his bones and muscles reorganizing, and his skin slowly beca covered in a layer of glossy black feathers.
Monts later, a majestic raven appeared where Ian had been standing.
The raven spread its wings and took flight, perching on a ledge near the window.
Professor McGonagall's eyes widened instantly, and shock filled her face.
"A magical creature! It really is a magical creature!" She leaned forward slightly, her normally composed deanor breaking as she covered her mouth with her hands, unable to contain her astonishnt. Though she marveled at its beauty and vitality, her years of experience made her instantly aware that this form was extraordinary.
As a veteran Transfiguration professor, she had seen countless Animagus forms, but the aura this raven exuded was unlike anything she had ever encountered.
This was no ordinary raven.
Its feathers were black as night yet shimred with an eerie violet sheen in the light. Its beak had an unnatural tallic luster. Most unsettling of all were its eyes, which had two vertical crimson pupils more like a predator's than a bird's. They radiated an aura of magic so dense that it almost distorted the air.
It was stronger than many magical creatures.
"rlin's beard! You...you..." Professor McGonagall furrowed her brow deeply, her gaze filled with concern and disbelief. When she finally spoke, her voice trembled slightly.
The raven tilted its head and let out a low cry—not the clear, sharp call of a bird, but a deep, resonant sound that sent a chill down one's spine.
It didn't sound like a good bird; that much was clear.
To be honest, Ian had expected praise.
Instead, however, the professor's expression was complicated.
"Ian, you… How could you? How could you dare attempt to transform into a magical creature?"
Her tone conveyed shock, anger, and even a hint of fear.
As she had warned during the first Transfiguration class last year, Animagus transformation was a type of magic that allowed a wizard to beco an animal. However, it required years of study and ca with imnse danger.
The transformation process itself was perilous; one could easily lose control the first ti attempting it, making it one of the most dangerous branches of magic.
And that was only when transforming into ordinary animals.
As for transforming into magical beings—
Throughout wizarding history, only a few have been reckless enough to try. Without exception, each one proved, through their own tragic example, just how foolish and perilous such an endeavor was.
It was not that no one had ever succeeded. But even so of the most brilliant wizards had perished in the attempt.
Given this, how could Professor McGonagall possibly feel anything but fear and anger upon seeing Ian transform into a magical creature?
She had warned this very student about it last year.
"Mr. Prince, you clearly did not heed my warning!" Professor McGonagall glared at the still-dazed raven, her irritation bubbling to the surface until she could hardly contain it.
'How should one put it?'
Ian actually felt wronged.
Upon hearing McGonagall's sharp words, Ian slowly reverted from his raven form. His body glowed faintly as he returned to his human form, his black feathers fading away.
In the blink of an eye, his feathers retracted and his bones stretched. Once again, Ian stood before Professor McGonagall, fully restored to his usual self. The transformation was so seamless that McGonagall subconsciously let out a quiet sigh of relief.
This proved that Ian's Animagus transformation was stable. So wizards, even after mastering the Animagus spell, suffered side effects.
So wizards spent years living as animals, gradually losing their magical instincts. So even forgot how to transform back, becoming permanently trapped in their beastly form.
Animagus magic was dangerous in every respect.
However—
Judging by how effortlessly Ian transford, McGonagall could conclude that he had exceptional control over the magic, perhaps superior to that of any other Animagus she had ever seen.
Realizing that, of course, didn't an she'd offer any praise. Not when she was this furious. Her aged but sharp eyes fixed sternly on Ian.
"Ian Prince!" She practically ground the na out through her teeth.
"Uh... Professor," Ian said carefully, looking at her with sincerity. His tone was calm as he explained, "Professor, I really didn't try to turn into a magical creature on purpose."
"This situation is kind of complicated. It just happened naturally." The young wizard's eyes were clear and steady, with no hint of deceit.
And, truthfully, Ian wasn't lying.
Before he was forced into raven form, he imagined becoming sothing cooler, like a lion or tiger. Even a cheetah would have been fine.
But a raven?
That was so not his style.
They're small, unimposing, and not the least bit majestic. That was the plain truth. So Ian didn't feel particularly guilty about it.
As for why he hadn't told Professor McGonagall the whole truth...
Well...
There wasn't really a point.
The way he had learned to transform into an Animagus was bizarre, to say the least. If he told her, she would probably think he was lying. After all, who would believe that touching a corpse could teach soone the Animagus transformation?
Even if Ian hadn't lived through it himself, he would've called it nonsense and punched the storyteller for trying to trick him.
It was absurd.
And yet, it had happened. Perhaps that's exactly what makes reality stranger than fiction. Sotis real-life magical absurdities sound too ridiculous for a novel.
"Happened naturally, you say?"
Professor McGonagall was stunned. She stared blankly at Ian, unsure how to respond. Her suspicious gaze lingered on him for a long ti.
She scrutinized his eyes, searching for any hint of deceit, but his calm, honest expression didn't waver. There wasn't the faintest sign of guilt or fear.
Countless thoughts and years of magical knowledge surged through the elderly professor's mind.
Finally, after a long silence—
McGonagall exhaled slowly. Her brows were still furrowed, but her tone had softened; it no longer brimd with anger. Her wrinkled face was now mostly filled with confusion.
(To Be Continued…)
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