It was impressive, but not that impressive.
Having witnessed a staggering and overwhelming truth with his own eyes, Sirius Black was momentarily so excited that he could barely string a coherent sentence together.
Given Harry's wishes, Sirius had already mentally prepared himself for his godson's Animagus form to be a cow—whether a North American buffalo or a European bison, a robust bovine form would certainly be fitting. Sirius had even pictured transforming into his large dog form and sitting on Harry's back as they galloped off for some fun. But now, faced with this cow, his expectations were shattered.
The creature was indeed burly and strong—those arms, those legs, the sheer muscle mass screamed raw power. But… how was a dog supposed to ride this?
What kind of cow walked upright?!
And just like that, Harry had become a literal Tauren.
From the massive bovine face, Sirius could still faintly make out traces of Harry's features. He couldn't help but chuckle, and soon, he was laughing outright.
"Who would've thought? It seems even a magically conjured storm can fulfill the requirements for an Animagus transformation," Lupin marveled. "This is seriously cool, Harry. James would absolutely love your Animagus form—he's always had a thing for big, powerful creatures since he was a kid."
"It turns out the essence of the Animagus ritual is about embodying a conceptual symbol," Harry's bovine mouth suddenly spoke, his voice deep and resonant. "As long as the imagery of a storm manifests, the ritual is a success. As for my dad, once we're back at the cliffs, we can summon him to take a look. It's not that difficult."
Unlike the youthful, slightly awkward tone of his human voice, Harry's Tauren form carried a deep, rumbling gravitas.
"It… it talks?!" Ron, who had tagged along, shouted in disbelief. "Why can it talk?!"
"Because it's a Tauren?" Hermione said, finally grasping a vivid image of the "Tauren" Harry had been talking about incessantly. "If it's a Tauren, it's not that strange for it to speak, is it?"
As a staunch… materialist, Hermione found it easy to accept the existence of a Tauren standing before her. If such a creature existed in the real world, what was there to question? It made perfect sense.
"No, no, no, that's not how it works, Hermione," Lupin said, shaking his head. "The Animagus spell is just a wizard's charm. A wizard remains a wizard—it simply grants them another form. Although, I suppose some wizards choose to live permanently in their Animagus form, treating it as their true self. Now that I think about it…"
Lupin trailed off, confusing himself with his own reasoning.
"Who cares about all that, Remus?" Sirius said with his usual carefree attitude. "Are you trying to become a professor or something? As long as Harry's still Harry, that's all that matters. So, how do you feel, Harry? Can you change back?"
"I think so," Harry replied thoughtfully. "Let me try."
"No rush, no panic, take it slow," Sirius advised, sharing his experience. "Just picture your human form in your mind. If it doesn't work right away, it's not a big deal—just keep practicing."
Before Sirius could finish, Harry's massive bovine frame began to shrink rapidly, as if deflating. His fur morphed seamlessly, and in less than two seconds, he was back in his human form, clothed as before.
"…Impressively done," Sirius said, a touch disappointed. He'd hoped to guide Harry a bit more. "But you need to be careful, Harry. If you need to point your wand at your heart to transform, it'll fall to the ground afterward instead of becoming part of you. Make sure to keep track of your wand, or you'll be in trouble if you lose it."
"Sirius is right," Lupin added with a smile. "But if you master your Animagus transformation to a deeper level, you'll be able to shift without a wand, and you won't have to worry about that anymore."
"No worries," Harry said, patting the warhammer at his waist. "My wand isn't that important to me. Interestingly, my warhammer transformed with me—it became part of my hooves. Hmm, I wonder if my punches in Tauren form could poison someone."
"That's pretty devious," Ron couldn't help but quip. "Who'd expect a… a cow's fist to carry Basilisk venom?"
"That's incredible," Neville said, his curiosity piqued. "Wait, Harry, what about the horns on your head?"
Harry reached up and removed the pair of fake horns he'd previously conjured with Transfiguration. He no longer needed them. On his head now sat a pair of real horns, a smaller version of the blade-like ones from his Tauren form, distinctly different in shape.
"Those are my real horns now," Harry said, clearly pleased. "You could say it's an incomplete Animagus transformation—they're part of my body."
"Cool!" Ron said enviously. "Congrats, Harry."
As Harry's closest friends, Hermione, Ron, and Neville knew how much this meant to him. Seeing their friend achieve his dream was a cause for celebration.
"Thanks," Harry said with a grin.
He hadn't felt this happy in a long time.
From that day on, everyone at Hogwarts who crossed paths with Harry could tell the young professor was in high spirits. Even the bolder students who asked where they could buy horns like Harry's weren't docked points.
After a Transfiguration class, Professor McGonagall stopped Harry as he was about to leave.
"I suspect something's happened to you, Professor Potter," McGonagall said, her expression stern. "Your voice has returned to normal, and that herbal scent is gone… I think you know what I mean."
Harry: "…"
As expected of a woman whose Animagus form was a cat—her senses were razor-sharp. Had she known all along?
It made sense. Anyone who'd practiced the Animagus transformation would be familiar with the scent of Mandrake, especially someone like McGonagall, who'd likely failed and restarted the process multiple times. A cat's nose was nothing to scoff at.
"I trust you remember my warnings, Professor Potter," McGonagall said sternly. "The Animagus transformation is extremely dangerous. A single misstep could be fatal, which is why it should always be attempted under supervision. Do you recall?"
"…I had someone watching me, Professor McGonagall, don't worry," Harry said, a bit guiltily.
"Sirius?" McGonagall asked. When Harry nodded, she continued, "Forgive my bluntness, Harry, but as much as I respect your godfather, Sirius… lacks the steadiness of an adult. He might not be able to protect you if something goes wrong."
"You're right," Harry admitted, lowering his head.
If Sirius heard this, the dog-like godfather would surely be furious, but Harry took McGonagall's words to heart. The old professor genuinely cared about him, and her concern stemmed from fear that Harry might injure himself practicing such magic unsupervised.
"Of course, as a colleague, I can't judge your actions too harshly," McGonagall said, her tone softening. "Would you mind showing me?"
"Huh?" Harry blinked, caught off guard.
He was almost certain he saw a glint of curiosity in McGonagall's eyes.
Of course—a cat Animagus would naturally be curious.
"Certainly," Harry said.
Not one to refuse such a simple request, Harry ensured the classroom door was locked to prevent any students from barging in. Then, he swiftly transformed into his Tauren form.
"Those horns," McGonagall said thoughtfully. "So this is a Tauren?"
"Yes, Professor," Harry said, his voice deep and rumbling. "As you can see, my Animagus form is unique. It's not a non-magical animal but a special form capable of wielding elemental magic."
"I see. Thank you, Professor Potter," McGonagall said with a nod. "You can change back now. I appreciate you indulging my curiosity. Even after decades of studying Transfiguration, its mysteries never cease."
"Just like Hogwarts," Harry said with a smile.
"Indeed, just like Hogwarts," McGonagall replied, her lips curling slightly. "Ever since the Chamber of Secrets was discovered, that phrase is practically becoming a proverb. You may go, Professor Potter."
"That's it?" Harry said, surprised. "I thought you'd—"
"Thought I'd make you register with the Ministry?" McGonagall gave a faint chuckle. "The Ministry requires Animagi to register and mark their level—but what is an Animagus? A wizard who transforms into a non-magical creature. Clearly, your Tauren is neither non-magical nor an ordinary animal. Therefore, you're not an Animagus, and you don't need to register with the Ministry. Understood, Professor Potter?"
"I understand," Harry said, grinning. "Thank you for your understanding. I'll be off then."
Clearly, McGonagall was cutting him some slack, bending the rules just a bit.
Who said Professor McGonagall was rigid or stuffy? This was a true Gryffindor at heart.
"Go on," McGonagall said with a nod. "And don't forget to submit next week's lesson plans. Even if the curriculum hasn't changed much, you still need to write them. No slacking."
"…Yes, ma'am."
Harry hated writing lesson plans.
The Scottish Highlands were colder this winter than the last. Christmas hadn't even arrived, and two snowfalls had already blanketed the region, forcing Hagrid to clear a path from the castle to Hogsmeade.
Harry had no time to rest either. Instead of helping Hagrid, he was busy with his godfather and assistant, Lupin, clearing snow around the Great Totem to create a space for classes. The snow was nearly as high as Harry's waist, and according to Filch, it had even collapsed the owlery.
In such harsh weather, Harry couldn't send his apprentices into the Forbidden Forest to hunt Acromantulas. If one of them fell into a snowdrift, it'd be a disaster. The clever centaurs weren't foolish enough to venture out in this weather either—staying by the fire in their tribe was far more appealing.
But even after clearing the snow, Harry's work wasn't done. The Forbidden Forest, buried under snow, was the perfect place to hunt a certain traitor. Scarcity of food and bone-chilling cold would force that rat to fight for survival. Harry refused to believe Peter Pettigrew would simply wait to die. After all, this was a man who'd lived as a pet rat for years, blending seamlessly into a household.
Having mastered the Animagus transformation himself, Harry now understood just how terrifying Peter's willpower was—or rather, how fiercely he clung to survival. A wizard living solely in their Animagus form risked forgetting their human self, eventually becoming little more than a slightly clever beast until death. Yet Peter had lived as a rat for nearly a decade, still able to read newspapers, analyze his situation, and evade Harry's magical tracking with cunning precision.
Setting aside his actions, that level of determination surpassed most ordinary people.
In response to Peter's relentless will to survive, Harry began divining the moment the first snow fell. Three times a day—morning, noon, and night—he sought traces of Peter Pettigrew.
The snow made many landmarks in the forest indistinguishable, but as long as Peter needed food or fire to survive, he'd leave tracks. The wind and water elementals, stirred by the snowfall and chilling gusts, would sense his presence and guide Harry to his location.
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