"Of course, kid!"
Professor McGonagall turned her head slightly, wiping away the tears that had silently fallen down her cheek. She composed herself quickly and then looked back at Cedric with a kind but serious expression. Placing both hands firmly on his shoulders, she spoke with heartfelt sincerity.
"Any time. No matter what's troubling you, you can come to me. Do you understand?"
"Thank you, Professor," Cedric replied, touched by her concern.
He didn't want to see Professor McGonagall trapped in her grief any longer. It was clear to him that she was still carrying emotional weight from the past—perhaps the many students she had seen come and go, some never to return. But now, a new fire was lit inside him.
After the awakening of his enhanced magical talent, Cedric had begun to experience an influx of knowledge—particularly in Transfiguration. His thoughts felt sharper, and spells that once seemed intimidating now felt natural to him. His fingers practically itched with the desire to try them out.
"Professor," he asked eagerly, "can you teach me a Transfiguration spell?"
Professor McGonagall looked at him with surprise, then gave a warm, approving smile.
"Certainly!"
She took a calming breath and looked around her office for a suitable object. With a quick flick of her wand, she summoned a small box of matches from the far shelf. Selecting one with a blackened tip, she placed it on the polished wooden table in front of Cedric.
"This is a very basic exercise, but a crucial one," she explained. "Watch closely."
She raised her wand and began the transformation process.
Under her practiced control, the match's blackened gunpowder tip began to shrink, compressing into a fine point that was nearly invisible to the naked eye. The square wooden shaft of the matchstick smoothed out, becoming round, gleaming, and metallic. At the end, it narrowed sharply, forming a perfectly tapered point. Finally, a small vertical hole appeared at the base—just the right shape for thread to pass through.
The matchstick had become a perfectly formed embroidery needle.
"When you want to reverse a transformation, you must cast the counter-spell: Untransfiguration," she explained.
With another wave of her wand, the needle transformed back into a matchstick.
Cedric's eyes sparkled with admiration.
"This is amazing!"
He had always found Transfiguration mesmerizing. He remembered the legendary Battle of Hogwarts vividly—the moment Professor McGonagall had animated the school's statues to defend the castle. It had struck him as nothing short of divine. In that moment, she'd looked like Rowena Ravenclaw reborn—regal, fierce, and wise.
Even further back in time, he remembered hearing stories about Harry Potter's first year at Hogwarts, when he and his friends had to pass through a series of magical obstacles to reach the Philosopher's Stone. The life-sized enchanted chessboard—brutal, brilliant, and majestic—had also been the work of Professor McGonagall. He'd always dreamed of mastering Transfiguration to that level.
Steadying his breathing, Cedric tried to suppress his excitement. Despite the vast amount of information in his mind and the fact that he had practically memorized the entire first-year Transfiguration textbook, this was still his first real attempt. A touch of nervousness crept in.
"Transfiguration!" he said firmly, pointing his wand.
To his relief and joy, the matchstick responded instantly, reshaping itself into a flawless embroidery needle.
"Very, very good, my boy!"
Professor McGonagall picked up the needle and inspected it closely. Her expression shifted to one of awe. The needle had the perfect level of hardness—not too soft, not too brittle—and its tip was so fine and sharp that it almost shimmered in the light.
"This is perfect," she said, her voice filled with astonishment. "Absolutely perfect!"
She looked at Cedric as though seeing him for the first time.
"Was that really your first time performing this spell?"
"Yes, it was," Cedric replied earnestly. "Of course, I'd already memorized the incantation and wand movement from the book."
He decided to seize the moment.
"Actually," he added, lowering his voice slightly, "I think I have a natural gift for Transfiguration. Sometimes… I feel like I can transform into an animal."
Professor McGonagall's expression froze.
"What did you say?"
The room seemed to grow still as her mind raced. While it was already incredible that Cedric had performed such perfect Transfiguration on his first try—impressive enough to mark him as exceptionally gifted—what he had just described hinted at something far rarer.
Could it be…?
She paced away, deep in thought, silently reviewing everything she knew about magical transformations. Then, returning to Cedric's side, she took his hand gently.
"Child," she said softly, her eyes shining with wonder and warmth, "you may be… a born Animagus."
Cedric blinked in surprise.
"A born Animagus?"
"This is an incredibly rare gift," she said. "Even the most skilled wizards often fail to become Animagi after years of training. But you… you may have been born with the innate ability to do so."
She looked at him with maternal pride and gentleness.
"We must confirm it now. No matter what happens during the process, you must stay calm. Do you understand?"
Cedric nodded eagerly. This was exactly what he had hoped for.
"Good. Now close your eyes," she instructed, guiding him through the steps with the utmost care.
"Focus on the animal you feel connected to. Can you visualize it? Every detail?"
"Yes," Cedric said, eyes closed, his breathing steady. "I can see it clearly. Its eyes, nose, ears, fur, and claws."
"Excellent," she said. "Now walk around it in your mind. Observe it from every angle."
Ordinarily, an aspiring Animagus would need to study an animal's anatomy in minute detail—skin, bones, muscles, blood vessels. But if Cedric was a natural-born Animagus, this understanding would already be intuitive.
"I've completed the circle," he said. "Actually, it's more than that. I can observe it from every angle—360 degrees. I can even make it move. Look—it's waving at me!"
Professor McGonagall's eyes widened, and her heart raced. She had only ever seen something like this once before, in her own youth.
"Now," she said carefully, "step into the creature's body. Enter it from behind and try to take control of it."
Cedric took a deep breath.
"Alright."
"You may feel strange," she warned gently. "Twisted, even. That's perfectly normal. Just relax and breathe."
And then, before her very eyes, the transformation occurred.
With a shimmer of light and the rush of swirling energy, Cedric's body shrank and reshaped.
In place of the boy stood a large, plump creature—round-bodied, short-legged, and covered in soft golden fur. It had tiny black eyes and a twitching nose. A badger!
Professor McGonagall clapped her hands together in delight.
"A Hufflepuff badger!" she exclaimed. "How fitting."
Cedric, now in badger form, gave an excited little bounce.
With a firm but gentle command, she guided him through the process of returning to human form. He reappeared moments later, slightly breathless but beaming with joy.
"You did it!" she said, embracing him. "You truly are a born Animagus."
Cedric couldn't stop smiling.
This was only the beginning.
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