The farm woke to the sound of loud crowing.
Early in the morning, the smell of pumpkin porridge filled the air.
Steam blurred the elm-framed windows and the view of the farm outside, and it also made it hard for Sean, coming downstairs, to see the professor's face clearly.
The one thing he could be sure of was that at the McGonagall cottage, the professor was always more relaxed.
The little McGonagalls came thundering down the stairs in a tangle, clutching biscuits in their arms and bolting straight out of the house.
"Mr. Green."
"Good morning, Mr. Green."
"Good morning, dear Mr. Green."
Whenever they passed Sean, they would always stop to greet him first before sprinting away.
Marcus McGonagall smiled and asked them something, but the three of them weren't listening at all, as if Marcus didn't exist.
That made the elderly wizard shake his head and sigh helplessly.
After a hearty breakfast, Sean went back to Transfiguration practice. Even after reaching Master level, the difficulty hadn't increased much.
He could now cast at least five apprentice-level Transfigurations a day. That meant in about two months he could bring any given Transfiguration up to "Adept" level.
Life on the farm was unhurried and gentle, and summer slipped quietly down onto the little villa on the outskirts of London.
Dazzling sunlight was always there, and outside the windows the scent of tulips hung in the air.
Occasionally, a couple of flowers would poke in through the stained glass, adding an extra touch of life to the already bright, spacious room.
It was the third morning since he'd arrived at the farm. Marcus and Professor McGonagall were, as usual, drinking tea and going through the Daily Prophet. The only difference was that Marcus would also read The Times for a while.
Beside him, Professor McGonagall folded up the Prophet and walked straight over to Sean.
"Tomorrow is the full moon. I think we should begin. Are you ready?"
she said.
"Yes, Professor."
Sean knew exactly what she meant.
Animagus transformation.
There were few times like this—when both of them were free and together. With the professor watching over him, the risks of the Animagus process would drop dramatically.
After all, during Animagus training, a person could easily get stuck mid-transformation and be unable to change back to human.
There were plenty of painful real-world cases in wizarding history.
The biscuits could certainly let Sean take animal form for a short time, but in the end, a proper Animagus form was far more practical than any biscuit.
He was also very curious which category of Transfiguration Animagus magic would fall under.
"You already know the steps, but I need to repeat them. From this full moon to the next, for a full month, you must keep a single mandrake leaf in your mouth at all times.
You must not swallow it, and you must never take it out. If the leaf ever leaves your mouth, we must start over from the beginning."
Professor McGonagall said calmly.
"Tomorrow, we'll start with that first step."
Sean nodded.
To put it bluntly, Animagus transformation depended heavily on luck.
After finishing that stage, the wizard had to take the leaf out under the full moon, spit it into a little crystal vial filled with their own saliva, and leave it soaking in pure moonlight.
If clouds covered the moon at that moment, the process failed.
Next, you added a single hair and a silver teaspoon of dew to the vial—dew collected from a place untouched by sunlight or humans for a full seven days.
Finally came a pupa of the Death's-head Hawkmoth. The mixture then had to be placed somewhere quiet and completely dark until a thunderstorm arrived—and until that storm, no one could look at or disturb it.
The problem lay in that waiting.
It could take weeks, months, sometimes even years. During that period, the vial had to remain undisturbed and never see a ray of sunlight. Even one touch of sunlight could lead to the worst kinds of mutation.
It was easy to see: nearly all the trouble lay in timing. With good fortune, you might hit the right moments and complete the ritual; with bad, you could be stuck for months and months.
Luck—
Sean thought of something and took out a delicate little bottle—Felix Felicis—from the trunk by the wall.
Then he remembered McGonagall and Dumbledore's words: "You'll need a little luck—"
No doubt, Felix could provide a wizard with that luck.
The D.A. members had taken it when Dumbledore and Harry returned to Hogwarts, and enemy curses had gone wild and off target as a result.
Horace Slughorn had taken it during the Battle of Hogwarts and lived through the war.
Felix was easily one of the most powerful magical brews in existence.
Sean finally understood why Snape had slipped a bottle of Felix into his trunk—he held the tiny bottle, mind flickering with vague images.
On the desk in his room sat a photograph of the Christmas feast in the Great Hall. Sean stared at it for a moment, then took out and pinned on a small brooch.
After tomorrow, once the leaf was in his mouth, he wouldn't be able to speak. To solve that, he had created a special alchemical item.
[Literal Translator].
A plain name, for a plain function.
It was simply there to take over for a wizard's mouth.
The inspiration had come from the Quick-Quotes Quill—it could record a wizard's thoughts in writing. Sean had given it a second function: turning the recorded text into spoken words. After that, a simple "translator" was done.
The only drawback was—it was too literal.
"This tastes amazing!"
At breakfast, as Sean drank his porridge and ate his crispy sausage, the brooch suddenly blurted out an unexpected line.
Sean froze for a second, then hurriedly shut it off.
"What a marvelous invention. Child, I had no idea you were an alchemist as well! Oh, I think I just saw something about an alchemist in the news recently…"
Marcus said with delighted surprise, then fell into thought.
The little McGonagalls had already been fighting to sit next to Sean; now they leaned in with their small heads to stare directly at the brooch.
"Do you know what it is, Bud?"
Sarah, perched above Bud, asked in a tiny voice.
"I guess it must have something to do with magic."
Bud answered very seriously.
"But Bud, we all know that part."
Sarah's little face was full of confusion.
As they studied it intently, Professor McGonagall's gaze also drifted over, clearly interested.
With the leaf in his mouth, unable to speak, Sean tapped the brooch lightly.
"This is a translator, Mr. Marcus, Professor. It can speak on a wizard's behalf. The downside is, it can't sugarcoat language at all—only say exactly what's in the wizard's heart."