Chapter 229: Plucked Bare

Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore exchanged a glance, both seeing surprise in each other’s eyes.

Allen hadn’t expected Mr. Scamander to have already imagined this far, but since this authority on magical creatures had offered the speculation, it spared him the trouble of explaining later.

"Your speculation is reasonable," Professor McGonagall said hesitantly. "We previously believed Allen’s talent for transfiguration could only randomly manifest animals he had seen or read about. Today’s transformation by Mr. Finis has overturned that conclusion—it appears his talent for transfiguration has indeed mutated, as you suggested."

Professor Dumbledore also gripped Allen’s tail. “The electrical energy radiating from this tail is stronger than that of your Thunderbird. It must be the tail of a powerful magical creature.” Dumbledore mused.

“Then what is your purpose here?” Professor Dumbledore turned to Mr. Scamander.

"I wish to join the team studying Allen’s talent for transfiguration," Mr. Scamander said seriously.

Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall exchanged another glance.

“I welcome this,” said Professor Dumbledore. “But we should ask the subject’s opinion.” He turned the question to Allen.

Allen was stunned by Dumbledore’s sudden move. Seeing the hopeful look in Mr. Scamander’s eyes, he couldn’t bring himself to refuse.

He gave a slight nod, agreeing to the arrangement.

“It seems we’ll need to collect more samples today,” Dumbledore smiled. “We don’t know when Allen will randomly manifest this creature’s part again.”

“We need Severus’s help,” Professor McGonagall said coolly.

Professor Dumbledore gave a slight nod.

Allen grew confused again—he didn’t understand how Professor Snape was related to this.

Soon, Professor Snape arrived in the office; he already knew the full story.

“Indeed, it contains abundant electrical energy,” Professor Snape observed Allen’s tail, his expression as blank as ever.

Allen looked at Professor Snape and suddenly felt a premonition of dread.

“We do need to collect more,” Professor Snape said slowly.

“Then I’ll begin,” Professor Snape said.

Allen nervously nodded—and the next moment, he screamed in pain.

Professor Snape plucked a tuft of fur from his tail, carefully placed it aside, then repeated the process over and over.

Allen soon couldn’t bear the pain—he knew they were pulling out the hair follicles, but it was excruciating.

“Isn’t that enough?” he couldn’t help asking.

“Not enough,” Professor Snape paused. “It seems you need a little help.”

The next instant, Allen saw a flash of red light—and his world went dark.

When Allen woke, he was back in his four-poster bed in the dormitory. He knew he’d been knocked out by Professor Snape’s Stunning Spell.

He felt his tail still throbbing faintly. He reached out to touch it—and found only smooth skin.

He quickly pulled out his tail—and saw that all the yellow fur had been completely plucked away.

He couldn’t help feeling heartbroken—Britons have always been utterly inhuman!

The dormitory was empty; Harry and Ron were still in class. This worked in his favor—he could do something else.

He steadied his emotions and decided to visit his secret base to test his tail. Even though it was now bald, it probably still worked...

He quickly reached the tunnel leading underground to the hidden chamber. Along the way, he attracted no attention—he had transformed into a sparrow in his dormitory and flown straight into the abandoned girls’ bathroom.

He deeply appreciated the convenience of being an Animagus, especially with so many forms at his disposal.

He focused his mind on his pitiful tail—it still retained its lightning shape.

“One hundred thousand volts!” Allen shouted.

Nothing happened.

“Piiiiika—chu!” Allen shouted again. Still, nothing happened.

Allen was now seriously annoyed. Was his tail just for show? Had Professor Snape ruined it?

His spirits sank.

But he quickly shook off the gloom. He began recalling the cartoon he’d watched long ago, concentrating on Pikachu’s skill-casting scenes. Though years had passed, he remembered fragments.

He gradually realized his earlier pronunciation had been too precise, too textbook.

He decided to try again.

“Piiika-chuuuuuuuuuu!” Allen growled this time—he felt he’d nailed it about eighty or ninety percent. (Was this pronunciation accurate? Facepalm.)

A white bolt of electricity enveloped his entire body. He felt a surge—and a thick arc of lightning instantly struck the opposite stone wall.

The dim underground tunnel blazed bright as daylight—but since the wall was insulating, the true power remained hidden.

Still, Allen was satisfied. A lightning bolt as thick as an arm couldn’t be weak.

During the brief moment he was bathed in electricity, his hair stood on end like steel needles, and his old wristwatch completely died.

But this didn’t dampen Allen’s mood at all. This was likely his most powerful attack yet—farther range than dragon breath, and faster too.

But he soon realized a problem—outside of the ritual, his targeted transformation ability should have returned. But how would he ever transform into Pikachu’s tail again?

He needed corresponding magical materials to transform any magical creature’s part or organ. But Pikachu didn’t exist in this world—where could he find the materials?

He knew the magical materials produced by his talent for transfiguration parts vanished with his next transformation.

That meant he could only rely on pure luck to randomly obtain parts from powerful magical creatures.

But another thought flashed into his mind: his talent for transfiguration had clearly evolved. Could the magical materials it now produced be preserved?

If so, he could produce and use them himself.

He grabbed his pitiful tail again, found a few surviving hairs, carefully preserved them, and planned to check tomorrow whether they still existed.

After finishing this, he recalled today’s events and had new questions:

Professor McGonagall had always collected samples of his transformation parts—why had it suddenly switched to Professor Snape? And why did she say they needed Snape’s help?

Why had Professor Snape collected so many hairs at once? They knew the magical materials from his talent for transfiguration parts vanished with his next transformation.

Even if they needed large quantities for research, they couldn’t possibly analyze much in such a short time.

Allen frowned deeply—he sensed something was off...

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