Chapter 13: It’s Actually This Animal!

"What animal is this?"

Professor McGonagall raised her head, brows furrowed in confusion, and looked at the beast standing in front of her. She waved tentatively, voice laced with concern. "Are you alright, my dear boy?"

"I feel great!"

Cedric tried to speak, but what came out was a deep, rumbling growl.

He blinked. That wasn't quite what he'd intended.

Realization hit him. He had transformed.

Instead of trying again with words, he nodded and raised one massive, fur-covered paw to pat his chest—an unmistakable gesture to signal he was fine and adapting well to this new form.

"You did it, my boy!" Professor McGonagall exclaimed with joy, wrapping her arms around one of his enormous limbs. Her tone was equal parts awe and pride.

She took a few cautious steps around the creature, eyes narrowing as she observed its features.

Cedric's Animagus form was massive—like a bear, but definitely not a bear. It had a plump and round build, a short tail, and a rather large, rounded head. Its fur was not the usual brown or black you'd expect from a bear, but a distinct pattern of black and white. Thick dark circles surrounded each eye like natural eyeliner.

It sat at two meters tall, but if it were to stand upright, it would easily surpass two and a half meters. Every part of its body was thick and rounded, exuding both strength and an odd sort of gentleness. McGonagall instinctively measured its forearm—thicker than her own waist.

"What on earth…" she murmured. "Do you know what kind of animal this is?"

Cedric nodded.

He dipped a massive paw in ink and wrote a word on the stone floor in surprisingly elegant strokes for someone using claws instead of a quill.

"Panda."

McGonagall's eyes widened as she read the word.

"I've heard of such creatures," she said, clicking her tongue thoughtfully. "They existed in the ancient East. But… are they really this large?"

Cedric lowered his head and gave his substantial belly a pat.

This form—his Animagus—was far more than a regular panda. It was a supersized version, likely weighing several hundred kilograms. His limbs were each as thick as an average adult's torso. It would take at least three people to wrap their arms around him completely.

If he stood at full height, he would nearly scrape the ceiling of the classroom.

Was this... Kung Fu Panda?

Curious, Cedric gave a few experimental jabs and punches through the air. Despite his bulky frame, the motions were incredibly fluid. Each movement made the air whistle around him. Beneath the soft, rounded exterior lay densely packed muscles—pure strength hidden under an adorable facade.

Huff! Huff!

With each movement, a low whooshing sound followed, and Cedric found himself grinning internally.

He rubbed his paws together and marveled at the scratching sound made by his claws. Surprisingly sharp and sturdy.

A true national treasure, he thought. But one with actual combat prowess.

"This form has great combat potential, but it's far too conspicuous to use often," McGonagall remarked, circling around him like an examiner evaluating a prized creature at a magical fair.

"Let's see if you can return to your original form."

Cedric made a sound of acknowledgment—more of a nasal hum than a proper response.

He shut his eyes and focused, picturing his human self in his mind's eye. The transformation came naturally, instinctively.

Within seconds, he felt himself shrinking. The ceiling began to rise above him as his body condensed. Like air escaping a balloon, the great weight and presence of the panda dissipated. His hands, once huge paws, returned to fingers. The black-and-white fur faded, replaced by skin and robes.

And just like that, Cedric was back.

"That's a complete success!" he said, examining his hands and limbs with awe.

The sensation lingered. That raw power, that seamless control over a powerful new form—it had left its mark on him.

He knew for certain: his physical strength had doubled. Already stronger than average, this transformation had made him a beast, quite literally.

Considering he was already using Hagrid's template—one with Strength at 4 points, or four times that of an average adult wizard—this transformation must have brought his effective strength to 8 points or beyond.

In other words: Cedric's Animagus wasn't just cool—it was dangerously powerful.

"Absolutely incredible," Professor McGonagall said, examining him closely once more. She double-checked his limbs, eyes, and facial features. "No injuries, no distortion. A perfect Animagus transformation."

She clapped her hands, visibly pleased.

"You did a remarkable job, Cedric. But remember—this was a supervised environment. You are not to transform at will until you've gained complete control and certification."

"Understood," Cedric said with a respectful nod.

"Excellent. Let's continue our studies."

The rest of the evening was dedicated to practicing Transfiguration.

To McGonagall's surprise, Cedric was grasping the subject at an extraordinary pace. Whether it was due to his intense revision, experience from a past life, or simply rare talent, he was moving through the material with unprecedented ease.

Within an hour, they had completed nearly half of the Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration, something that should have taken multiple lessons.

Every time she raised the difficulty, Cedric met it effortlessly.

"Cedric, you've astonished me once again," McGonagall said, barely able to contain her admiration. "I've taught hundreds of students in my career, but I've never seen someone like you."

Cedric scratched the back of his head. "I just reviewed a lot in my spare time," he said modestly.

"Don't sell yourself short. You're perfect."

That thought lingered in McGonagall's mind longer than it should have. What if this boy was the true Chosen One? She had never considered it before, but Cedric seemed to shine brighter with each passing day.

Ding!

Life goal of Professor McGonagall fulfilled!

Your Quidditch talent has been upgraded from A to S-level!

Cedric blinked.

Wait, that was it? I just had to impress her? No need for perfect grades on exams or winning trophies?

This evening had turned into a gold mine of progress. First the Animagus form, now S-level Quidditch talent?

He chuckled inwardly. Professor, the truth is—the rewards you give me are a big part of why I seem so perfect!

Now, not only was he a Transfiguration prodigy, he was also ready to dominate the Quidditch pitch.

"Alright," McGonagall said, rubbing her temples. "That's enough excitement for one night. You've learned so much so quickly, I'm afraid you'll burst if we keep going."

Cedric laughed. "Okay, Professor. I understand."

He escorted her to the door. McGonagall had her own home in Hogsmeade, but she often stayed in a room hidden behind a secret door in the study on the second floor when working late.

Once she left, Cedric returned to his quarters. Lying in bed, his thoughts continued to churn with excitement.

Professor McGonagall needed a break. She had helped him make tremendous progress.

But his next target was clear.

Snape.

The next major step in his plan was to gain access to Severus Snape's template card.

He smiled to himself in the dark, already imagining what new powers he would unlock.

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