"I just wish my Animagus form could be what I've always wanted," Harry said, his face showing a rare expression that could only be described as yearning or hope. "That way, I'd be a true tauren."
In his many years in Azeroth, especially when he was younger, this had been the deepest desire buried in Harry's heart.
Yes, he could distinguish that his true race was human, and he understood that calling himself a tauren was merely a psychological identification. But deep down, Harry always longed to truly become one of Shu'halo, indistinguishable from his kin.
Even though Father Cairne's family never minded, nor did the tauren of the Horde who supported him—some even treating him as one of their own—and even Magatha eventually came to see him as a full member of the tribe, Harry still harbored a lingering regret.
But now, through the wonders of wizarding magic, it seemed this regret might finally have a chance to be mended.
"Tauren this, tauren that," Sirius groaned, unable to hold back his teasing. "Alright, fine. If your Animagus form really is a tauren, then as your godfather, I'd better be one too! Get me a pair of horns, Harry! Something like the Weasley twins would whip up—preferably glowing ones!"
"Wait, glowing? What did they do now?" Harry's eyes sharpened with suspicion.
"You might want to rethink what you just said, Sirius," Remus interjected, looking exasperated. "What's this about 'if Harry is, you have to be'? That's not how godfathers work."
"Forget the details, Remus," Sirius waved a hand dismissively. "The real question is, what do we do about the storm?"
"We wait," Remus said with a helpless shrug. "There's no set time limit for this final step. The only issue is that it's going to be tough on Harry."
"As long as the storm hasn't arrived, Harry has to point his wand at his heart and recite the incantation at sunrise and sunset every single day, without fail," Remus continued, rubbing his forehead. "You haven't forgotten, have you, Sirius? If luck isn't on our side, waiting for the storm could take months, even years. Honestly, Professor McGonagall could probably answer this easily."
Silence followed. Neither Harry nor Sirius responded, and their reaction made Remus realize something.
"Wait, Professor McGonagall doesn't know, does she?" Remus's eyes widened. "Harry's a professor now, not a student. He shouldn't be bound by those restrictions."
"You know how it is, Remus," Sirius said, his face souring at the mention of the Ministry. "If McGonagall finds out Harry—or I—learned to become an Animagus, she'll drag us to the Ministry to register. I'm not doing that, and neither is Harry. Anyway, you were always the best student among us, even a prefect."
"Back then, we only learned to become Animagi under your guidance," Sirius added with a shrug. "So, naturally, you're the first person I thought of when we hit a snag. Come on, Remus, think of something. I can't wait years, and neither can Harry."
"Well, thank you very much," Remus said, rolling his eyes. "I thought you just missed me."
"Oh, I do miss you," Sirius said, standing up and striding over to Remus with open arms. "But this is a great opportunity, isn't it? No matter what, I get to see you again."
"...Me too," Remus said softly, standing to give Sirius a tight hug.
For both of them, after all the hardships they'd endured, this was the best outcome they could ask for.
And so, Harry took Remus to Dumbledore's office. Fortunately, with strangers frequently coming and going in the castle lately, Remus's presence didn't draw much attention.
Seeing Remus again was a genuine surprise for Dumbledore. For Remus, Dumbledore's decision to let a werewolf like him attend Hogwarts all those years ago was a profound act of kindness. The struggles he faced after graduation had nothing to do with Dumbledore, and as an adult, Remus wouldn't allow Dumbledore to coddle him forever.
The two caught up briefly, and in the end, Dumbledore agreed to let Remus stay at Hogwarts temporarily as an assistant for the Shamanism class—no salary required. Incidentally, Sirius was also staying at Hogwarts in the same capacity.
As the top student among the old Marauders, Remus still remembered many of the challenges they faced—and the solutions they found—when learning to become Animagi in their youth.
After visiting the suitcase world of Mulgore, Remus suggested simulating a storm within the suitcase to complete the ritual. If it failed, they'd just start over with another mandrake leaf. Summer was still far off, after all.
Harry agreed.
Following Remus and Sirius's unanimous advice, Harry soaked the mandrake leaf he'd held in his mouth for a month in a crystal vial filled with his saliva. He then processed it according to the ritual's steps and placed the vial in a dark, quiet cave in Mulgore.
Then, it was time to wait for the magic to take effect.
The Animagus ritual at this stage required not just a roaring storm but also the caster to perform the incantation daily until the transformation occurred.
On the seventh day…
"Amato, Animo, Animato, Animagus."
As the sun set, Harry lowered the wand pointed at his heart. This time was different from all the others. When the incantation left his lips and the wand's tip touched his chest, Harry felt, for the first time, a second heartbeat pulsing deep within his chest.
It was as if another person lived inside him. The new heartbeat was distinct from his own—slower, heavier, with long pauses between each beat, yet undeniably powerful.
This heartbeat was stronger than his own, as if it might burst from his chest at any moment.
No further prompting was needed. A clear premonition stirred in Harry's heart—it was time.
The suitcase world of Mulgore was adjusted to a sweltering summer night, so dry it felt like the air could ignite. As a muffled thunderclap roared across the sky and lightning split the heavens, dark clouds rolled in. Harry raced to the cave where he'd hidden the crystal vial.
Things went smoother than he'd expected. Remus's suggestion was spot-on. The vial now contained only a single mouthful of blood-red potion—the sign of a successful ritual.
Without hesitation, Harry took the potion to an open clearing. The suitcase world held no dangerous magical creatures… well, except perhaps for Ragehorn. He didn't need to worry about his transformed form being eaten.
Pointing his wand at his heart one last time, Harry recited the Animagus incantation and drank the potion in one gulp.
The heartbeat he'd heard before grew deafeningly loud. For a moment, it was the only sound in his ears. Pain surged through his body, as if his flesh were melting and his bones reshaping—not like ordinary Transfiguration, but something far more visceral.
Kneeling on the ground, gasping for breath, Harry forced himself to recall the key points of Animagus transformation that Remus and Sirius had taught him. If all went well, the image of the creature he was about to become would appear in his mind.
The most important thing was not to resist or fear the change but to embrace it.
The concerned voices of the elements, audible only to Harry, echoed around him. But overwhelmed by pain, he couldn't respond clearly.
Flickering flames, glistening water droplets, shifting earth, and swirling winds—these elemental manifestations surrounded Harry, soothing his flesh.
The pain was so intense it felt like his body was being torn apart from the inside, as if every inch of his skin was turning outward, expanding. Yet, amidst this agony, a figure remained vivid in Harry's mind.
He was strong, standing resolute when the Horde faced despair, leading his people to survive—and ultimately triumph—in their war against the centaur.
He was dependable, exuding a profound charisma that united the warring tauren tribes, convincing them to accept Thunder Bluff as their shared home.
Cairne Bloodhoof—the person Harry admired most in the world, his mentor, his aspiration.
His form, his strength—
Steam rose as the dry wind dispersed it. Harry stood, looking around in a daze. Trees he once had to crane his neck to see were now level with his gaze.
He had grown taller.
And stronger.
Harry could feel the explosive power coursing through his body. If he wanted, he could topple the tree beside him or uproot it entirely.
Bewildered, he extended his hands, examining them—broad palms, three thick fingers with three joints each, and tawny fur covering the backs.
Overwhelmed with excitement, his hands trembled. Harry had never felt this thrilled; even his breathing quickened.
Without hesitation, he summoned the water element. The ever-present water formed a mirror, allowing Harry to finally see himself clearly.
Standing in the clearing was a form he knew all too well—undeniably, unmistakably—a robust, healthy tauren.
Over two meters tall, his fur patterned with colors reminiscent of the clothes and trinkets he'd worn as a human, his muscles defined with striking lines.
Harry reached up, trembling, to touch the horns on his head. These weren't conjured by Transfiguration or crafted artificially. This time, they were real, born from his very body.
They were wide, massive horns, sharp as blades, fanning out like wings, their broadest edges reaching his shoulders.
Yet, more striking than the exaggerated horns were the elemental orbs orbiting them. Without consciously casting a spell, these elements seemed a natural extension of his body. Beyond turning his eyes a fiery red, they drifted like gossamer around his sturdy arms, shifting with his will.
For the first time on this human planet, a true tauren stood in reality—a form Harry had fantasized about countless nights, the form he'd imagined if he'd been born among the Horde.
Traces of Cairne Bloodhoof lingered in that massive tauren face.
Perfect.
With that thought, a smile curled Harry's lips.
Lightning cracked across the sky again, and the storm arrived as promised. Harry inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of rain and earth. Suddenly, he looked up, spotting Ragehorn's wings slicing through the clouds before diving toward him with a chorus of screams, landing heavily before him.
Ragehorn cautiously studied this unfamiliar creature in the suitcase world. His nostrils flared, quickly recognizing Harry's scent and realizing this strange being was indeed Harry. Delighted, he nuzzled closer.
Harry's massive frame was just right to cradle Ragehorn's draconic head, creating a strangely harmonious scene.
While Harry and Ragehorn reconnected, the few people Ragehorn had carried over finally recovered from the harrowing dive.
"Harry?" Sirius retched a few times before staring at his godson—or what he assumed was his godson. "Is that… you? What is this? Merlin's beard! This is the tauren you're always banging on about?"
"Merlin's pants, how is this possible? Animagi can only transform into non-magical creatures! I thought you'd turn into a cow at most, maybe a stronger-than-average one. But look at you! You're standing on two legs!"
--
Support me & read more advance & fast update chapter on my pa-treon:
pat reon .c-om/windkaze