Erwin stared in shock as the magical fluctuation rippled through the air—a mere dissipation of magical energy that already rivaled a third-level spell. What could be inside this egg? Had he accidentally hatched a powerful magical creature?
He rubbed his hands together, eyes fixed on the egg with growing anticipation. Cracks spiderwebbed across its surface, widening as more magic seeped out, almost tangible, like a shimmering veil wrapping the shell. Then came a series of sharp snaps. The eggshell split open completely.
A dark, round head poked out. It twisted, swallowing the entire shell in a few gulps, crunching loudly. Finished, the creature let out a satisfied burp, then blinked its large eyes at Erwin with open curiosity.
Erwin blinked back, bewildered. He leaned in for a closer look. "This... looks like a black dog pup?"
Indeed, a small black dog had emerged from the magical creature egg. But dogs didn't hatch from eggs. What was this thing?
The pup studied Erwin for a moment, then its canine gaze lit with a spark of recognition—and unmistakable joy. It pushed off with its hind legs and lunged forward.
Erwin extended his hand to catch it, figuring it was too small to pose much threat. But the instant it hit his palm, a surge of force slammed into him like a Bludger. He flew backward, crashing onto the bed with a thud.
Stunned, Erwin gaped at the pup, now sprawled on the floor from the recoil. Had a tiny dog just knocked him flying? This would be humiliating if word got out.
The pup tilted its head, equally puzzled. It trotted over and nuzzled Erwin's leg affectionately, tail wagging.
Erwin eyed it warily. No underestimating this one. He scooped it up by the scruff. "Little fellow, do you understand me? You've absorbed blood from all sorts of magical creatures—they comprehend speech, so you should too."
The pup nodded eagerly.
"Any special talents?" Erwin asked.
It paused, then wriggled free and landed lightly. Circling the room, it selected a clear spot away from the bed. Suddenly, magic flared around it. In a swirl of light, the pup transformed into a miniature dragon—eerily similar to Norbert, Hagrid's Norwegian Ridgeback.
Erwin's jaw dropped. The form shifted again: a sleek unicorn next, then a vibrant phoenix like Fawkes. It cycled through seven or eight shapes, each drawn from the magical creatures whose blood Erwin had used in the ritual. Finally, it reverted to the black dog pup and flopped down, panting, its magic reserves visibly drained.
Erwin scooped it up gently and settled it on a soft blanket by the bed. A shapeshifter? He'd hatched a versatile familiar—one that could mimic the forms he'd fed it.
The transformations made sense now. The young dragon blood had yielded a juvenile form; the adult unicorn blood, a full-grown one. So it could emulate any creature based on the blood it consumed.
Erwin's eyes gleamed. "When you shift, do you gain their abilities too?"
The pup nodded.
This was a goldmine! With this familiar, he'd essentially collected the powers of multiple magical creatures. Regret tugged at him—if only he'd used blood from fully mature beasts from the start. The potential was limitless.
"Can you absorb more blood later?" he asked.
Another nod, followed by a soft whine.
"You can take in new blood, master their forms and skills, but your output depends on your own magical reserves?" Erwin guessed.
The pup yipped in agreement.
"And you build those reserves by eating normally?"
It whined again, confirming.
"You're a pricey one," Erwin chuckled. "Lucky for you, you've got me."
He pulled an enchanted ring from his pocket and withdrew vials of unused blood, including the last of the phoenix essence he'd saved for study. The pup tilted its head back and lapped them up eagerly, though the sight was a touch unsettling. Still, Erwin sensed its magic strengthening with each swallow.
Satisfied, he commanded, "Shift into a phoenix."
The pup complied in a burst of flame, feathers gleaming. "Now, produce a single tear."
It obliged, a silvery drop forming at the corner of its eye. Erwin caught it in an empty vial, sealing it tight.
"Stay put, little guy," he said, snapping his fingers. With a crack, he Apparated away.
He reappeared in another bedroom. Draco, propped up in bed, yelped in surprise. "Patriarch?"
Erwin nodded curtly. "Don't move."
He seized Draco's arm and flicked his wand. A shallow cut opened, drawing a sharp gasp from the boy. Ignoring the protest, Erwin dripped the phoenix tear onto the wound. White smoke curled up as the gash sealed flawlessly, leaving smooth skin behind.
Draco's eyes widened, tears of relief pricking at the corners. "It... it worked."
Erwin smirked. Real magic, straight from the source. This familiar was already paying off.
...
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