Chapter 226

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In the afternoon, clouds began to multiply in the sky, dark and heavy, filling the heavens.

Professor McGonagall arrived just before the end of the afternoon, and to everyone’s surprise, Professor Dumbledore and Professor Flitwick came with her.

“I must be here to witness this moment—after all, the chance to observe a wizard becoming an Animagus is exceedingly rare,” Professor Flitwick squeaked.

Professor Dumbledore immediately embraced Mr. Scamander; it was clear they were well acquainted.

But they did not linger in reminiscence, for the wind had already begun to howl outside.

All eyes turned to Allen.

“Don’t be nervous, child. Believe in yourself—you are the most suited to become an Animagus,” Professor McGonagall said gently to Allen, though she seemed more anxious than he was.

Facing the moment, Allen felt no tension at all; he smiled calmly at the group.

He checked the time and realized it was again the second daily incantation hour; he calmly pointed his wand at his heart and recited the incantation three times.

Once he finished, the storm outside finally erupted—gales roared, rain poured in torrents.

Allen stood up and walked silently toward the outdoors; everyone hurried after him, while the Thunderbird Frank circled above them, the violent wind and rain parting around them.

They soon reached the large tree by the sea, where the ocean boiled like scalding water, towering waves crashing violently against the cliffs.

“You may begin!”

As the first lightning split the sky, Professor McGonagall said.

Allen staggered out of the Thunderbird’s protective range; the rain drenched him to the bone, yet he seemed unaware—he vanished in an instant beneath the tree.

The wind and rain grew fiercer; some raindrops broke through the Thunderbird’s barrier and splashed onto Professor McGonagall.

Professor McGonagall gripped her wand tightly in both hands; rain blown by the wind soaked her hair and streamed down her pale cheeks, her knuckles whitening from the force of her grip.

“He’ll be fine,” she murmured.

Professor Dumbledore gazed across the storm at Allen; the rain and darkness did not obscure his vision—in the gray-white backdrop, a small figure knelt beneath the tree...

A flash of lightning illuminated the faces of all present; every expression was grim.

February’s rain was still bitterly cold, but Allen felt no chill—he sensed an extra heart within his chest, pumping blood to warm his entire body.

Torrential rain pounded his body; the sea’s waves crashed against the cliffs with deafening force, yet neither affected him in the slightest.

He found the mark he had left—the spot where he buried the crystal vial.

He gripped his wand, intending to dig into the ground with magic, but suddenly a strong impulse arose within him—he abandoned the idea.

He wanted to unearth the crystal vial without any tool.

He set his wand aside and dug with bare hands; the rain-saturated soil was easy to dig, and soon he found the small crystal bottle—the mixture of ingredients inside had turned a deep crimson potion.

“Professor, I did it—the potion—” he turned, excitedly saying.

Professor Dumbledore smiled and waved his wand; a transparent shield appeared above Allen, shielding him from the storm.

“Allen, you’re only one step away from success!” Professor Flitwick cried out excitedly. “Keep going!”

Allen took a deep breath, pointed the tip of his wand at his heart, and chanted with a trembling voice: “Amado, Animus, Animado, Animagus.”

Then he swallowed the potion whole and closed his eyes, waiting.

Several pairs of eyes fixed intently on her movements.

Allen felt intense pain and two fierce heartbeats—he knew this was normal. Then, images of the creature he would transform into surfaced in his mind—a panda.

He exhaled slowly—he had succeeded. His Animagus form was a panda.

Just as he was about to announce this joyous news, a second creature suddenly appeared in his mind—an eagle.

Allen lost his composure—this phenomenon was not anticipated. He was momentarily at a loss.

But the phenomenon was far from over; more creatures flashed through his mind like a revolving lantern: turtle, hedgehog, giraffe...

The order matched the images that had appeared in his mind each day during the thirty-six days he waited for the storm.

Allen carefully counted—there were thirty-six animals in total.

Why were so many creatures appearing in his mind?

Shouldn’t the normal process reveal only one creature?

Why did the order and types of these creatures exactly match the images that had surfaced in his mind during the thirty-six days of waiting for the storm?

A dawning understanding began to form within him.

Allen stood there in a daze, but those around him grew frantic—they watched Allen drink the potion, then freeze motionless. They feared something had gone wrong, yet none dared disturb him.

After a moment of reflection, Allen finally came back to himself. He opened his eyes, his expression now uncertain.

“What is your Animagus form?” Professor McGonagall asked urgently.

Allen glanced around, hesitated, then said: “P-Professor... it’s a panda—my Animagus form is a panda.” He decided to conceal some things.

“Excellent. This aligns with our expectations,” Professor Dumbledore said calmly, his voice carrying an undeniable authority.

Professor Flitwick and the Scamanders whispered their cheers.

“You should now feel intense pain and two fierce heartbeats—you must unhesitatingly merge with the second one. There is nothing to fear. You have experienced transformation over a dozen times, each time teetering on the edge of losing control. Compared to that, the wild surge from the Animagus transformation is negligible,” Professor McGonagall said sternly.

“We’re right here!” Professor Flitwick squeaked.

Allen nodded firmly, shifted his mental image to the panda, and focused on merging with the second heartbeat—then the transformation began.

Though all present had witnessed Animagus transformations before, each one still brought a fresh sense of wonder.

Every part of Allen underwent complex change; his body swelled like an inflated balloon, becoming round and plump, his head’s contours shifting toward a bear’s form, his clothing shrinking and merging into his skin, gradually turning black and white, his hands and feet thickening into stout paws...

A round, plump panda appeared before them...