The following week passed with classes, assignments, and whispered discussions about Animagi. What had started as a spark during Transfiguration grew into a shared obsession. After dinner each night, the trio would gather in a quiet corner of the Hufflepuff common room or tucked-away library aisle, their conversations threading back to the same question: How does one become an Animagus?
They started with books, of course.
"Nothing!" Iris grumbled as she slammed shut the third book in a row that offered nothing but vague references and general warnings. Advanced Magical Metamorphosis was, disappointingly, just a dense tome on advanced wand gestures.
"There's barely anything here," Dora muttered. "It's like they don't want people to learn."
Hadrian was already flipping through Famous Magical Transformations of the 17th Century but paused when he spotted an illustration of an old witch mid-turn into a badger. "Maybe there's a reason," he murmured. "What if it's dangerous?"
"It is," said a gentle voice above them.
They looked up to find Professor Flitwick smiling down at them. He held a stack of parchment and a well-worn copy of Magical Theory and Practice: Volume IV.
"I couldn't help but overhear," he added, eyes twinkling. "You're not the first to be curious. Becoming an Animagus is immensely complex — not just in magic, but in self-understanding. It requires precise rituals, rare ingredients, and iron willpower."
"Do you know how, sir?" Hadrian asked, a little breathless.
"I do. But I'm not allowed to teach it — not without Ministry oversight. Still…" Flitwick leaned in just slightly. "The best preparation is to understand yourself — and your magic — better than anyone else. Read everything. Study your nature. Explore Transfiguration, magical biology, and especially wandless focus. If you're meant for this path… it will call to you."
He gave them a knowing smile, then shuffled off with his papers.
The trio looked at one another. That was not a no.
That weekend, the trio resumed their search with renewed purpose. This time they turned to the castle itself — portraits, ghosts, even a few enchanted suits of armor that had seen decades of Hogwarts mischief.
"You want to learn Animagus magic?" Sir Cadogan bellowed from his portrait on the fourth floor, drawing his sword. "Then you must first tame a gryphon with naught but a spoon and a rhyme!"
"Thank you, Sir Cadogan," Dora said quickly, dragging Iris away before he launched into a dramatic ballad.
They had better luck from the portrait of Elspeth the Green-Eyed, a 16th-century herbalist. "You'll need Mandrake leaf," she whispered to them. "Held in your mouth for a whole month, under every moon's turn. Few make it past that part. Too itchy."
"And that's just the beginning," Dora whispered as they walked away, scribbling the ingredient down in a small leather notebook they were now calling The Animagus Codex.
Even the Grey Lady, who rarely spoke, offered one cryptic comment when Iris asked, "What does one need to become an Animagus?"
"A deep and unflinching truth," she said. "And a willingness to face what you may become."
That night, the trio huddled again in the Hufflepuff common room, parchment filled with scattered notes and early sketches of their imagined forms.
"Do you think we'll still want this a year from now?" Iris asked, her voice soft.
"I think," Hadrian said slowly, "that even if we never make it… just trying will teach us things no classroom ever could."
"We'll need to keep this secret," Dora added. "Until we know more. Until we're sure."
Iris nodded. "It's our project now."
Their dream was still wild, still distant — but no longer fanciful. The path to Animagus transformation had begun, not with spells or potions, but with questions, wonder, and the quiet determination to know themselves a little better each day.