In the Ravenclaw common room, nestled high in the west tower, the highest of all the Houses, Hermione gazed at the shimmering moon.
"They're here!" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of urgency and excitement. "Luna, it's tonight!"
Tonight marked the first step in their Animagus journey. For a full month, beginning with the rise of the full moon, they had to hold a single mandrake leaf in their mouths, resisting the urge to swallow or spit it out. It was a test of patience more than skill; failure meant starting anew.
Luna, mirroring Hermione's resolve, held the leaf in her mouth and stared up at the full moon. Curiosity danced in her eyes. She often wondered about the moon's influence on magic—what power did it truly hold? Despite her sensitivity, she couldn't discern the precise magic emanating from it, only sensing its undeniable presence.
...
Meanwhile, within the Room of Requirement, some time had passed since the last full moon. Tonight was the second. The room reeked of potions. Cassandra opened the window.
How does this room do it? she wondered, gazing out. The room, transformed to her specifications, somehow connected to the outside world. She glanced at the beautiful, luminous white jade disc hanging in the sky and subconsciously breathed a sigh of relief. If the sky had been overcast tonight, I would have had to start all over again.
That would have cost her precious time, one of the reasons why so few witches and wizards managed to become Animagi. Without luck, success could remain forever out of reach.
Carefully, Cassandra placed the saliva-soaked leaf into a crystal bottle, allowing it to absorb the pure moonlight. She added a strand of her hair, a silver teaspoon of dew collected from a place untouched by sunlight and human contact for seven days, and finally, a ghastly moth pupa.
This was the Animagus potion, essential for the next step. With one last glance at the moon, Cassandra turned and left the Room of Requirement, carrying the potion. She needed to place it in a quiet, dark place, safe from prying eyes and disturbance.
...
In the days that followed...
Harry, in the Slytherin common room, performed the ritual every sunrise and sunset, pointing his wand at his heart and chanting, "Ammadre, Animus, Animado, Animagus."
...
Until one day...it happened.
Malfoy's eyes snapped open, wide with realization. He felt it—the second heartbeat he had been waiting for, faint but undeniable. He exchanged a glance with Harry, and the two left the common room, heading towards the safe, open space they had prepared.
Elsewhere, Cassandra and the others were also making their final preparations. All they needed now was—a storm.
But the sky remained stubbornly calm, only the usual gray clouds overhead. Malfoy's initial excitement began to wane. It seemed their luck had run out.
Just as disappointment began to set in...
BOOM!!!
The sky seemed to have been splashed with ink. Dark clouds surged and coalesced, a thick bolt of lightning tearing through them and countless others dancing within!
CRASH...
The storm was upon them!
Thunder exploded in their minds, jolting them into action. The group rushed to where they had hidden their potion bottles. When they saw the potion bottles contained exactly a mouthful of blood-red liquid, they knew they were on the verge of success. The appearance of the red potion meant their previous steps had been true.
...
Meanwhile, on a hillside outside Hogwarts Castle, Tom Riddle leaned back against the lithe, golden body of the Thunderbird, his gaze fixed on the distant castle. A faint, strange light flickered in his emerald green snake eyes, as if he were observing something significant.
Unlike the surrounding area, which was being buffeted by the storm, their location was eerily calm, untouched by wind or rain.
"Although that magic is not particularly useful, there is no harm in learning it." Tom Riddle patted the Thunderbird, his voice conversational. "Do you not agree?"
He knew perfectly well what his foolish student and Harry Potter had been up to. It was obvious. Not only he, but all the other professors had noticed, with the exception of Trelawney, who drifted through life in a haze.
And not only he, but the other professors—Minerva McGonagall, as an example—had been subtly watching over them. They knew that with a certain doting Dark Lord in the vicinity, the children were unlikely to encounter any real danger, but they couldn't help but keep an eye on them.
Hogwarts might be more conservative than some of the newer magic schools, but when it came to protecting its students, it was unmatched.
"Screech~"
The enormous Thunderbird responded to Tom Riddle affectionately, its demeanor as gentle as a lamb.
It agreed with everything Tom Riddle said, including the storm itself, which Tom Riddle had instructed it to conjure.
Logically speaking, storms created by magical creatures like Thunderbirds were magical weather and rendered useless for Animagus studies. Learning Animagus magic required magic derived from nature. This was why, according to magical statistics, only about one in a thousand wizards mastered Animagus magic, and even those who succeeded often spent years attempting it.
It required a stroke of luck, and any misstep meant starting all over again. Otherwise, why not just capture and mass-produce Garudas?
However, that was merely a theoretical assumption. Thunderbirds were not like common wild birds. Though not gods, they possessed a trace of divine power originating from the Thunderbird!
And nature was merely a plaything of the gods.
Therefore, the storm unleashed by the Thunderbird truly embodied the immense power of nature! Therefore, it could naturally be used to learn Animagus.
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