A week had passed since Eira White received her yearly sign-in rewards—mysterious gifts granted by the system bound to her . Among them were several new spells, intricate and ancient, that shimmered with power whenever she whispered them through her wand. She'd spent the past days tucked into quiet corners of the school gardens and training halls, practicing the incantations until they moved through her like second nature.
Today, however, her curiosity tugged her in a different direction.
There was a subject she had only skimmed the surface of before—the Animagus Ritual. A rare and demanding branch of transfiguration magic, reserved usually for older witches and wizards, but Eira, being Eira, didn't intend to wait since she had received the system rewards for the smooth journey of practicing this ritual without any difficulty or danger, so she decided to practice this magical ritual immediately as she had time for it and it was quite convenient as well .
Becoming an Animagus—an Imagi, as the text sometimes poetically called it—meant taking on an animal form linked deeply to the soul. For someone with a genius-level affinity for metaphorical and transfigurative magic, the ritual could be performed with far less danger than usual. Eira intended to test that theory. But first, she needed knowledge.
So she made her way to the library—a towering palace of books nestled within Beauxbâtons, its arched windows casting sunlit pools across the polished floor. Inside, the familiar scent of parchment and flowers surrounded her. Students milled about, some bent over their studies inside enchanted study-boxes that muffled sound and helped with focus. Others whispered over books in the common areas.
Eira headed straight for the Alchemical Indexer, a Crystalline device resembling a cross between ancient clockwork and a living alchemy , embedded into a marble pedestal and symbols . With a whisper, she leaned close.
"I'm looking for detailed information about animal metaphors or Animagi rituals."
The device hummed softly. Then, glowing silver letters scrawled across its paper-thin surface:
(Access Denied.
You are not eligible to retrieve this information due to age restrictions.
This content is only available to students aged 14 and above.
Current registered age: 11 years old.
Nous sommes désolés.**)
Eira groaned and leaned back. The sigh that escaped her lips echoed a little too loudly. Several nearby students turned to glance her way with raised eyebrows. She offered them an apologetic smile and turned back to the Indexer.
A moment later, another line of text appeared:
Suggested Alternative:
Basic-level information available in:
Section 78, Floor 12 – Metaphorical Transfiguration: Advanced Basics.
"Well… better than nothing," she muttered, tucking her hair behind one ear and heading for the spiral staircase.
⸻
High on the twelfth floor, nestled between gilded tomes and dusty volumes, she finally found it—a book titled The Body as Mirror: Foundations of Metaphorical Transfiguration. She pulled it from the shelf, and as soon as her fingers touched the spine, it warmed slightly, recognizing her magical signature.
She carried it down to the study hall and slipped into one of the enchanted study boxes. Within the softly glowing walls, she opened the book and began to read.
The information was dense, but thrilling. The pages outlined the first step of the Animagus process: the practitioner must place a single mandrake leaf under their tongue and keep it there for one full lunar cycle—thirty-one days—without removing it or damaging it. Each morning and night, the practitioner was required to recite four specific ritual words, words tied to the body, the soul, the sky, and the earth.
"Should you miss a single recitation, or remove the leaf even once, the entire ritual must begin anew… with a fresh mandrake."
Eira leaned back in her seat, eyebrows raised.
"Well… at least I don't need to wait for a lightning storm and perform painful transfigurations under duress," she murmured to herself. "The system's rewards are definitely more convenient."
She closed the book, tapped its cover, and the enchanted tome lifted itself and zoomed back toward its shelf with a soft hum.
Eira left the study box and exited the library, her thoughts buzzing with preparation. The first ingredient was now clear—mandrake leaf. Fortunately, she knew where to get one.
⸻
Back in her dorm, Eira sat at her writing desk and penned a neat letter to Lolly, the loyal White family house-elf. Her handwriting was swift but elegant, flowing like an aristocrat's script:
Dear Lolly,
I hope this finds you well. I need your help acquiring a specific book on Animagus transformation—please search the White Family Manor Library and send it to me as soon as possible. Additionally, I'll need your help acquiring a few rare ingredients later. I will send you another list soon.
With love,
Eira
She folded the parchment, sealed it with her silver wax stamp, and headed out once more—this time toward the Beauxbâtons Owlery, perched on a hill overlooking the southern gardens.
The Owlery was a tower of glass and iron vines, a marvel of both magical architecture and alchemical design. Inside, dozens of owls perched on glimmering branches—snowy, barn, tawny, and even rare breeds like midnight-winged Strix owls. Each owl rested in harmony, awaiting commands from students.
Near the entrance was another alchemical box, this one used to calculate postage. Eira slipped her letter into the holding slot, and the box clicked and whirred before lighting up with a message:
(Destination recognized: White Manor, Paris .
Postage: 3 Galleons.
Recommended Owl: Argent, Strix-class, confirmed.)
She dropped three golden coins into the payment slot, and from deep within the Owlery, a sleek, grey-feathered owl flew toward her, landing gracefully on the post beside her.
"Hello there," Eira whispered, tying the letter to the owl's leg.
The owl gave a short, intelligent blink, then took off in a powerful, sweeping flight, disappearing into the sky.
She lingered a moment, watching it go.
"So many enchantments in this place," she murmured in awe. Even the Owlery was enchanted to remain self-cleaning and immune to weather, thanks to wards likely crafted by Nicholas Flamel himself.
It struck her again—the legacy of Flamel was everywhere in this school, from the whispering books to the self-sorting potions lab. Everything worked because he had imagined it to. That kind of genius… that kind of magic… it wasn't just rare. It was sacred.
⸻
As she walked back toward her dorm, the early signs of spring began to catch her eye. Tiny leaves, bright and dewy, peeked from the branches of once-bare trees. Flowerbeds stirred with color—some plants blooming early thanks to protective enchantments. Even in the coldest corners of the campus, warmth stirred again.
She walked in silence, boots crunching against the stone path, her mind deep in thought. Becoming an Animagus wasn't just about magic—it was about understanding herself. Her soul. What creature would reflect her innermost being?