Chapter 224: The Ritual

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Allen followed Professor McGonagall's instructions again, placing one of his own hairs into the crystal vial. Then, Professor McGonagall provided some dew collected from places that had seen no sunlight or human contact for a full seven days. Allen took a teaspoon of the dew and put it into the crystal vial.

Then he held the crystal vial up, allowing the mandrake leaf, which had fully reacted with the saliva, to receive the pure moonlight.

The mandrake leaf unfurled within the crystal vial, emitting a soft glow under the moonlight's illumination. Only when the entire mandrake leaf had lit up did Professor McGonagall remind Allen to proceed to the next step.

The final step was to place the pupa of the death's-head hawkmoth into the small crystal vial.

Allen's hand trembled slightly, but he still completed all of this very quickly.

Professor McGonagall instructed Allen to screw in the stopper and hide the bottle in a quiet, dark place.

"The small crystal medicine bottle must be kept completely undisturbed and out of contact with the sun. Sunlight contamination will cause the most severe mutations. Do not look at it or disturb it again until the next thunderstorm arrives." Professor McGonagall warned.

Allen looked at the large tree before him; this was the most suitable place.

"I suggest you bury it deeper, so wild animals don't dig it up," Professor McGonagall said, her gaze sweeping over the Niffler on Mr. Scamander's shoulder.

That Niffler had watched the entire process; it looked very interested in the small crystal vial, its tiny black eyes rolling around as if plotting to find a time to dig the crystal vial out.

Mr. Scamander sensed Professor McGonagall's concern. "I will keep a strict watch on Pickett," he said solemnly, grabbing the Niffler Pickett by the scruff and stuffing him into his coat pocket.

"Truly magical! This is the first time I have witnessed the ritual of becoming an Animagus," Lady Scamander sighed.

"It is my first time as well; this process is truly exhilarating," Mr. Scamander said with a smile.

Allen did not join their conversation; he was fully focused on digging a hole at the base of the large tree. He dug the hole very deep, placed the tightly stoppered crystal vial inside, and then carefully buried it.

Everyone present watched Allen finish all of this.

"Now the most difficult part of the entire ritual is over; the rest is simply persistence and waiting for fate's choice," Professor McGonagall said, now somewhat more relaxed herself.

"Additionally, although you already know this, I must repeat it: for the coming period, at every sunrise and sunset, you must perform the following action: point the tip of your wand at your heart and chant the spell: 'Amado, Animo, Animado, Animagus'."

"If all goes smoothly, at some moment, when you chant the spell and the tip of your wand touches your chest, you will feel a second heartbeat. Sometimes it will be stronger than your original heartbeat, sometimes weaker, accompanied by anxiety and palpitations. This is a normal phenomenon; you must persist in chanting the spell to the end, not omitting a single repetition."

"If you perceive the second heartbeat, please tell me quickly," Professor McGonagall emphasized.

Allen nodded solemnly; he had already committed Professor McGonagall's words to heart.

"You are now very close to success; I do not wish for you to fail," Professor McGonagall said, patting Allen's shoulder.

Then she cast spells of warning and protection around the large tree.

Having finished all of this, Professor McGonagall looked at Mr. Scamander once more.

"Thank you again for your help, Mr. Scamander."

"Professor McGonagall, you are too kind. I must thank you for giving us the opportunity to witness the ritual of becoming an Animagus. Besides, I have always liked this child, Allen," Mr. Scamander said, winking playfully at Allen.

"There is one thing I would still like to request of you," Professor McGonagall continued.

"Please speak."

"The next node of the ritual is when the next thunderstorm arrives. I know your Thunderbird can create storms and lightning, bringing the storm forward."

"

"Previously, I asked you to have the Thunderbird bring the storm near the manor forward because a key factor of tonight's ritual was the full moon's light. However, the next element of the ritual is a thunderstorm with lightning and thunder. I fear a non-naturally formed storm might affect Allen's ritual, so I request that you restrain your Thunderbird for the coming period." Professor McGonagall had clearly thought deeply about Allen's matter, considering all factors.

"Very well, this is merely a trivial effort!" Mr. Scamander agreed readily.

"Go back and rest quickly!" Professor McGonagall said gently, looking at the exhausted Allen.

"Very well, thank you all for your help!" Allen said wearily; he had hardly slept at all in the past few days.

They returned to the manor under the cover of night. Allen finally relaxed completely; he returned to his room and fell into a deep sleep the moment his head touched the pillow.

The next morning, Allen was woken by his alarm clock. It was not yet dawn. He yawned and got up; he felt less exhausted, but still reluctant to open his eyes. With his eyes closed, he fumbled his way into his clothes.

He quietly walked down the stairs, crossed the living room, and stood on the white stone steps in front of the small building. The air at dawn was very cool; the morning light was faint, and a thin winter mist wandered through the manor.

"Good morning!" That was Mr. Scamander's voice. He was already fully dressed and patrolling the magical creatures in the manor. "I was thinking that if you hadn't woken up after I finished this round, I would come to wake you."

"Good morning!" Allen was much more alert. "You are up so early?" As soon as he said this, he felt a jolt of alarm, but then he realized: the leaf in his mouth had already been removed.

"Old people sleep less; they are not as able to eat and sleep as you young people," Mr. Scamander said cheerfully, a hint of envy in his tone.

Allen did not know how to continue the conversation, so he had to change the subject. "I must continue with the ritual; please allow me to take my leave for now."

Mr. Scamander waved his hand dismissively at him.

Allen found an open space, bathed in the faint golden sunlight, drew his wand, pointed the tip at his heart, and loudly chanted the spell.

"Amado, Animo, Animado, Animagus—Amado, Animo, Animado, Animagus—Amado, Animo, Animado, Animagus."

He repeated it three times in a row.

He had never discovered that speaking aloud was such a wonderful thing; his voice, like frothy waves, traveled far away, as if merging with the dawn glow on the horizon.