Chapter 256

The farm was awakened by the loud crowing of roosters.

Early in the morning, the scent of pumpkin porridge could already be smelled.

The steaming heat blurred the elm windows and the farm’s view, making it hard for Wizard Sean, who had just come downstairs, to see the professor’s face.

The only thing certain was that at McGonagall Villa, the professor was always more relaxed.

The young McGonagalls tumbled down the stairs in a crowd, biscuits clutched in their arms, eager to rush outside the villa.

“Mr. Green.”

“Mr. Green, good morning.”

“Good morning, dear Mr. Green.”

As they passed Wizard Sean, they always stopped to greet him before sprinting off.

Marcus McGonagall was smiling and asking them something, but the three paid no attention at all, as if Marcus didn’t exist.

This made an elderly wizard shake his head and sigh helplessly.

After a hearty breakfast, Wizard Sean continued his Transfiguration practice; after reaching Master level, the difficulty of Transfiguration hadn’t increased much.

Every day, Wizard Sean could perform at least five Apprentice-level Transfigurations, meaning within two months, he could bring any Transfiguration to the [Skilled] rank.

Life on the farm was always leisurely and slow, and summer quietly arrived at this villa on the outskirts of London.

Brilliant sunlight was always present, and outside the window, the scent of tulips always lingered.

Occasionally, one or two flowers would stretch in through the stained-glass windows, adding a touch of liveliness to the already bright and spacious room.

It was the third morning since arriving at the farm, and Marcus and Professor McGonagall were still sipping tea while reading The Daily Prophet.

The only difference between them was that Marcus also read The Times for a while longer.

Beside him, Professor McGonagall put down The Daily Prophet and walked straight over to Wizard Sean.

“Tomorrow is the full moon. I think we should begin. Are you ready?”

Professor McGonagall said.

“Yes, Professor.”

Wizard Sean knew what the professor meant.

That was Animagus Transfiguration.

It was rare to have such free time, with both of them idle and together. With the professor watching, the risks of Animagus Transfiguration would drop dramatically.

After all, during Animagus practice, a wizard might lose control and be unable to return to human form.

The Wizarding World has many such tragic cases.

Transfiguration cookies could of course grant Wizard Sean temporary animal-form abilities, but Animagus was ultimately far more useful.

Besides, Wizard Sean was also curious about which category of Transfiguration Animagus would be classified under.

“You’ve already learned this, but I must repeat it: for the month between one full moon and the next, you must continuously hold a single leaf of mandrake in your mouth.

At no time may you swallow the leaf or remove it from your mouth. If the leaf leaves your mouth, the entire process must begin again.

Tomorrow, we will begin with this step.”

Professor McGonagall said slowly.

Wizard Sean nodded.

Speaking of it, Animagus Transfiguration always requires luck.

After completing this step, the wizard must remove the leaf during the full moon, fill a small crystal vial with saliva, and submerge the leaf in it so it absorbs pure moonlight.

If there are clouds at this time, it will fail;

next, add a single hair and a silver teaspoon of dew to the crystal vial illuminated by the moonlight—the dew must be collected from a place untouched by sunlight or human contact for seven full days.

Finally, add a pupa of a death’s-head hawkmoth. Place this mixture in a quiet, dark place and do not look at it or disturb it until the next thunderstorm arrives.

The problem with this step is waiting for the thunderstorm to come.

It could take weeks, months, or even years. During this time, the crystal vial must remain completely undisturbed and never exposed to sunlight. If contaminated by sunlight, it will cause the most severe mutation.

It’s not hard to notice that the problems almost all lie in timing—if luck is good enough, you’ll encounter the right moment and complete the ritual; if luck is bad, going through many months is perfectly normal.

Luck…

Wizard Sean remembered something, took a delicate little bottle from his suitcase near the wall—the Felix Felicis.

Then he recalled again the words of Professor McGonagall and Headmaster Dumbledore:

“You’ll need some luck…”

Undoubtedly, Felix Felicis could grant a wizard a measure of good fortune.

D.A. members had all taken Felix Felicis when Dumbledore and Harry returned to Hogwarts, causing enemy spells to misfire;

Horace Slughorn had also taken it during the Battle of Hogwarts and survived the great battle.

Felix Felicis could truly be called one of the Wizarding World’s supreme magical creations.

Wizard Sean roughly understood why Professor Snape had slipped a bottle of Felix Felicis into his suitcase. He held the delicate vial, and vague images kept flashing through his mind.

On the desk in the room sat a photograph of the Christmas banquet hall; Wizard Sean stared at it for a moment, then took out a brooch-like object and pinned it on.

After tomorrow, when he placed the leaf in his mouth, he would be unable to speak. To solve this, he created a special alchemical device.

[Straightforward Translator].

A plain name for a plain function.

That is, to replace the wizard’s mouth.

The inspiration originally came from the Quick-Quotes Quill—it recorded a wizard’s thoughts. Wizard Sean gave it a second function: converting those recorded words into speech. After that, a simple translator was complete.

The only flaw was… it was too straightforward.

“Tastes wonderful!”

In the morning, Wizard Sean drank oatmeal porridge and enjoyed crispy sausages when the brooch suddenly emitted an unexpected sound.

Wizard Sean froze, then quickly turned it off.

“A marvelous creation. Child, I didn’t know you were an alchemist! Oh, I think I recently read a report about an alchemist somewhere…”

Marcus said with surprised delight, then fell into thought.

The young McGonagalls had already been jostling to sit beside Wizard Sean; now they leaned their small heads right up to the brooch.

“Do you know what this is, Bard?”

Sarah’s head was above Bard’s as she asked in a soft voice.

“I guess it must have something to do with magic.”

Bard said seriously.

“But Bard, we all know that.”

Sarah’s little face was full of confusion.

As they watched closely, Professor McGonagall also cast a look of keen interest.

Wizard Sean, with the leaf in his mouth and unable to speak, gently touched the brooch.

“It’s a translator, Mr. Marcus, Professor. It can speak for the wizard. But its flaw is that it lacks linguistic embellishment—it can only voice the wizard’s most sincere thoughts.”