In fact.
Ian didn't really lie.
Before being forced to become a raven, Ian had hoped to transform into something cooler, like a lion or tiger, or at least a creature like a cheetah.
A raven?
It was totally not to his taste.
Small... not intimidating at all. That's the truth, so Ian didn't feel guilty, as to why he didn't tell Professor McGonagall the truth directly.
How should I put it?
It probably wouldn't make any sense if he did.
The experience of learning the Animagus transformation was indeed somewhat bizarre; if he told the story, Professor McGonagall might actually believe he was lying, because who would believe that just touching a corpse would teach you how to become an Animagus?
If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes... no, if he hadn't experienced it himself, if someone told Ian such a story, he would definitely feel like punching that person.
It is indeed rather absurd and bizarre.
But this is exactly how reality is... perhaps the reason reality is stranger than fiction is that sometimes the magical plots in reality would even get criticized if put into a novel.
"It just happened naturally like this?"
Professor McGonagall was stunned, staring at Ian, unsure of how to respond for a moment. Her eyes filled with skepticism, examined Ian repeatedly. She stared into Ian's eyes, trying to find a hint of lying, but the boy's gaze was calm and clear, with no sign of evasion.
Various thoughts and the knowledge she learned flooded the mind of the mature Cat Lady like a tide.
After a long time.
Professor McGonagall finally sighed, her brows still furrowed, but her tone was no longer as angry as before, her wrinkled face full of confusion.
"Indeed... some ancient wizard families contain Animagus with magical creature forms, but as far as I know, the Prince family should not have such a special bloodline." She said as she paced back and forth in the classroom, arms crossed over her chest.
As if she was trying hard to think through this tricky problem.
To be honest.
Professor McGonagall wasn't sure.
After all.
Wizards... no, humans in the category of wizards, no one knows what kind of bloodline their ancestors had, nor when atavistic phenomena might suddenly appear.
Sometimes.
It could be that no one has awakened certain bloodlines for ten or twenty generations, and one day an offspring suddenly awakens. This type of case is rare in the wizarding world but not nonexistent.
For this reason.
The "foundation" of any wizard family is fundamentally impossible to trace.
The more she thought about it, the more Professor McGonagall felt troubled and stopped in her tracks, looking at Ian again with a hint of helplessness and confusion in her eyes. She shook her head and said.
"Perhaps you could ask Professor Snape, he might know more about your family's bloodline." This obviously indicated that Professor McGonagall felt unable to explain it.
She thought Ian might be curious about such a bloodline.
However.
Ian, after listening to Professor McGonagall's words, had no intention of asking Snape; this matter probably had little to do with family bloodline, and he felt Professor Snape would surely be bewildered by this.
Probably.
That nice uncle might come up with some speech about how many family bloodlines he has. Ian made sure to find out that those spreading rumors about Ian's excessive bloodlines are Slytherin students.
And their information.
Originated from observations of their own Head of House.
Snape was clearly probing the mystery of how many bloodlines Ian had.
"Okay, Professor."
Ian didn't plan to find Snape, but he politely nodded and expressed that he would ask. After all, he needed to deal with the Transfiguration class professor in front of him first.
Professor McGonagall took a deep breath, her expression turning stern again.
"Mr. Prince, please remember not to attempt any dangerous magic. With your talent and ability, the future is bright, don't stray off the right path."
Her voice was filled with concern and expectation.
Indeed a sincere sort of advice.
Ian felt Professor McGonagall's genuine care, and warmth filled his heart. He also looked seriously at Professor McGonagall and nodded vigorously in response.
"Professor, don't worry, I will remember your words."
The little wizard looked confidently determined.
Professor McGonagall looked at Ian's earnest appearance and sighed with a hint of a satisfied smile on her face, "Very well, I hope you remember what I said today."
After speaking.
The mature Cat Lady picked up her prepared teaching materials and walked out of the classroom; she still had other classes to teach in higher grades with only a short break between Transfiguration classes.
"Professor McGonagall truly is a good person."
Watching the professor's departing back.
Ian sighed.
The second class in the morning was Flying Class, which he didn't like, so he decided to skip class; leaving the Transfiguration classroom, he navigated through the corridors of Hogwarts like a nimble little beast.
Ten minutes later.
Inside the Room of Requirement.
"Da-da-da-da-da---!!!"
With Ian's improved magic level came many inspirations, and he was actualizing these ideas now, the Gatling in his hand gleaming with a cold metallic luster under the dim light.
As if it was a sleeping beast.
In the deafening roar, beams of dazzling green light shot out from the modified Gatling wand, blasting the little bunny hanging on the distant target to flip over with its eyes rolling back.
Each one keeled over in succession.
Yes.
This was Ian's new idea.
The wizards' era has long changed, and he advanced with the times, could be said to have groundbreaking creations and inventions, bringing the first Avada Gatling into existence.
In this room used for experimentation.
The aftermath of Avada Kedavra Spell sent the images screaming and fleeing in all directions.
"Perfect!"
Ian excitedly snapped his fingers.
Whether he had entirely forgotten Professor McGonagall's "do not attempt dangerous magic" advice, or didn't consider this a dangerous magical attempt.
The black-robed skeleton stood silently in the corner, contemplating Ian's actions with its newly obtained "brain," the Dementor was in the cauldron, being used to boil soup with its somewhat imaginative notion.
How to say this.
Perhaps this is the benefit of having a brain, normally how Ian used it to cook it, that's how it now attempted to cook the Dementor, just that the Dementor never yields a white broth.
This left the black-robed skeleton rather puzzled—its brain was temporarily usable, but for now, it didn't grant it significant vast wisdom.
They say some pigs are even smarter than humans.
It seems not necessarily so.
Possibly it was an issue with the pig brain Ian chose, or maybe it was a problem with the black-robed skeleton itself, as she, in her previous fierce goddess form, didn't appear to be overly intelligent.
"Today is a good day, a good day~"
Ian hummed a little tune.
And then started making the second Gatling. He planned to engrave the Imperio rune on it, yes, the three Unforgivable Curses, Ian intended to make them into his three Hallows.
Deathly Hallows are Hallows.
His era's Hallows are also Hallows.
"Equality for all!" Ian couldn't imagine the potential of a Gatling that could cast the Imperio; if Voldemort had one of these back then, he would definitely have conquered the world.
Grindelwald would probably say excellent, excellent, excellent when he sees it.
"All thanks to the old Headmaster for enlightening me!" Ian expressed gratitude to Headmaster Albus, the Ancient Magic framework that Dumbledore taught him once converted into Magic Runes was really useful.
"Why not consider it a bright future!" Ian thought his numerous creations and inventions would definitely capture notable chapters in books recording wizarding history and development.
No matter how history appraises him.
In Ian's view.
He, Ian.
Is the unheralded great inventor among wizards!
Professor Nicolas Flamel's inventions might pale somewhat in comparison to his.