The sky was heavy with dark clouds, and thunder rumbled as raindrops as large as beans pattered down, striking the dark green leaves with a rhythmic, noisy chatter.
In a clearing somewhere within the forest, bright red firelight flickered. A high-pitched, resonant phoenix cry pierced the heavens, causing even the dark clouds to tremble and nearly disperse.
Makiya stretched his body freely. Countless voices of worship echoed in his heart, yet they did not feel noisy. This was a miraculous innate talent—he could perceive the thoughts of all avian creatures.
A large flock of owls descended from the sky, bowing respectfully toward Makiya and hooting incessantly. Aside from the owls, the forest was teeming with other birds, all of whom had left their nests to fly toward him in a pilgrimage.
Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh!
Numerous round, fluffy little balls appeared around Makiya. Whenever he looked toward them, they would suddenly vanish, being extremely sensitive creatures.
"Stop, don't run!"
Makiya instinctively commanded in his heart, and the effect was immediate. A second later, the little balls stopped under a nearby large tree, remaining perfectly still.
Makiya looked closely and found them to be very strange little creatures—plump as balls with fluffy feathers. They didn't seem capable of flight, but they used a method of spatial teleportation to disappear and reappear elsewhere.
Diricawls. They were magical beasts, non-aggressive, and possessed a timid, sensitive nature.
Makiya strongly suspected that the Apparition spell used by wizards was discovered and adapted from studying Diricawls.
Other ordinary birds appeared in large numbers as well. They stood obediently on the branches like soldiers awaiting inspection, using their body language to convey their most loyal respect.
Among the flocks, some apex predators had also joined, such as an Occamy.
The Occamy's form was extremely peculiar. Its main body resembled a giant emerald-green serpent, but it possessed a pair of eagle-like purple wings on its back. Its head featured a long, sharp beak that gleamed like a dagger, striking fear into those who saw it.
In the Ministry of Magic's classification for magical creatures, the Occamy was listed as a XXXX-level beast, and its danger was well-known.
As a former ruler of this part of the Forbidden Forest, the Occamy had a nasty temper and would attack anything that approached its nest. Its thick serpentine body could constrict an adult monkey to death, and its wide, powerful wings provided immense lift, allowing it to move like a ghost.
The usually ill-tempered Occamy was now crouching as obediently as a chick. When Makiya's gaze fell upon it, the beast began to tremble, burying its sharp head deep into the thick layer of fallen leaves, not daring to look up.
Next to the Occamy were several Fwoopers. Each one had different feathers—orange, pink, bright purple... the multicolored Fwoopers looked like a vibrant parade, a sight for sore eyes.
Fwooper feathers were one of the raw materials used for high-quality quills, but their song was extremely dangerous, capable of making any listener lose their mind.
Countless birds gathered around Makiya. The scene was initially quite grand, but Makiya soon noticed the atmosphere taking a sudden turn. Due to their physiological structure, most birds were 'straight-gutted'—the process from eating to excreting was exceptionally brief.
And because Makiya radiated an endless majesty and power at every moment, the birds of various species were terrified into silence, trembling all over, and then...
They made a mess all over the ground.
Makiya was utterly helpless. What was supposed to be a majestic 'Hundred Birds Paying Homage to the Phoenix' had somehow turned into a mass defecation event. It was a bit much to stomach.
"You... all of you go back! And remember, don't fly over my head!"
Makiya's beak opened and closed as he let out a crisp cry. All the birds immediately received the order and took flight. Not a single bird dared to fly over Makiya's head; even without his command, the hierarchy etched into their bones ensured they wouldn't dare commit such an affront.
"Hoot, hoot?"
Only Jimmy remained, staring with his large eyes as he looked Makiya up and down. A giant question mark seemed to hover over his small head, his face full of confusion.
"You go back too!" Makiya chirped. "Be a good boy and go home right now, or you'll have one less vole for dinner."
At the mention of losing his dinner, Jimmy immediately stiffened his neck, let out a cry, and flapped his wings into the sky.
The night sky was once again filled with a massive flock of birds that seemed to block the moon, moving like a giant, slow-moving vortex. As the birds gradually departed, the swarm thinned out.
It was only then that Fawkes the phoenix arrived late. He soared against the current of the retreating birds and spotted Makiya in the clearing. He immediately dove down, landing beside Makiya and chirping happily as he circled him.
"Great King, Great King, huh?"
Under Fawkes' shocked gaze, the 'Great King' before him suddenly erupted in fire. His form gradually shrank, his magnificent feathers faded, and he transformed into a young man with thick black hair wearing decent wizard robes.
Makiya shook out his black robes and crouched down to pick up Fawkes. "Fawkes, why are you calling me 'Great King'?"
Fawkes: "@#¥#@¥..."
His brain capacity wasn't quite large enough; he was currently in the middle of a system reboot.
Makiya destroyed the traces he had left behind and walked into the dense forest while holding Fawkes. He navigated through various predator territories with practiced ease, heading toward the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
After a while, Fawkes finally snapped out of it, chirping incessantly in Makiya's arms and asking all sorts of questions.
Fawkes: "Chirp, chirp?"
"Yes, yes, it's me. You're not dreaming."
Fawkes: "Chirp chirp, chirp."
"Of course. This is my transformation technique. It's just... a bit special."
"You're right. And Fawkes, you have to promise to keep this secret for me, okay?"
"Good boy, then it's a deal..."
English mixed with bird calls—the eerie sounds echoed through the forest. If a normal person saw this, they would surely think Makiya was an escapee from a psychiatric ward.
Fawkes nodded repeatedly at Makiya's request, declaring himself an honest bird who wouldn't reveal a thing even if Dumbledore asked.
After the final exams, Makiya received near-perfect scores in almost every subject as expected—except for Potions.
Makiya wasn't a Slytherin student, so it was impossible to get a perfect score from Snape. The greasy old bat had stared at his exam paper for a long time, racking his brain until he found a tiny error that wasn't really an error to justify docking points.
The end of exams was naturally followed by the holidays. The young wizards were all high-spirited, making plans to hang out during the summer break.
Makiya planned to return to the orphanage and exchange some Galleons for Pounds to donate. For the rest of the time, he intended to stay in his small hut by the Forbidden Forest.
When school started next year, he would be the teaching assistant for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Although he had only accepted Dumbledore's invitation to gain free access to the Restricted Section, he believed in doing a job well if he was going to do it at all. He needed to prepare a few things.
The 'Season Two' Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, if there were no surprises, would be Gilderoy Lockhart—a charlatan who specialized in memory charms, a memory thief, a social butterfly, and a famous 'author.'
Lockhart's DADA classes were destined to be anything but peaceful. Makiya even had a premonition that the burden of teaching might eventually fall entirely on his shoulders.
Inside the hut, Makiya set down a heavy tome and tossed a log into the fireplace.
Although the weather had turned warmer, Britain's climate was like that—never truly hot. One could wear sweaters all year round: thick ones for the cold, thin ones for the warmth, with a seasonal coat on top.
The humidity was high, but the fireplace's dehumidifying effect worked well, radiating constant heat into the hut and driving away the dampness.
Makiya pulled a beautiful, multicolored feather from his robes.
This was a feather from his own tail, plucked while he was in his transformation. Even after releasing his Animagus form, this feather remained under his control, shifting between a feather and a strand of hair.
Makiya intended to use it as a wand core.
Back when he was choosing his first wand, he hadn't found one that was a perfect match. While his current wand was usable and didn't feel too strange during normal spellcasting, it fell short in critical moments.
During his confrontation with Voldemort, Makiya could clearly feel that his wand could no longer keep up with him. His powerful magic was constantly eroding the wand's body; one day, it would inevitably snap under the strain.
If it broke at a critical moment, it could be fatal.
Therefore, Makiya planned to make his own wand. He had already decided on the materials: Sycamore for the wood and his own hair-feather for the core—a perfect match.
But making a wand wasn't as simple as sticking a 'hair' into a 'stick.' It required a series of complex material treatments and magical techniques.
Unfortunately, there were no records of wand-making methods even in the Restricted Section. This craft was a family trade that could support generations and was never easily shared.
Otherwise, the Ollivander family wouldn't have stood for so many centuries, nearly monopolizing the wand industry in Britain.
'I wonder if Ollivander would be willing to take me on as an apprentice. We can negotiate the price,' Makiya thought, resting his chin on his hand as his mind began to wander while staring at the dancing flames.
Gradually, Makiya's eyelids began to close as drowsiness washed over him. He simply used the magic book he had just started reading as a pillow and drifted into a dream.
In the words of Makiya's former deskmate, knowledge is like salt in water; according to the principle of osmotic pressure, when you sleep on a book you haven't read, the knowledge will gradually seep from the high-concentration book into the low-concentration head to achieve the goal of learning in your dreams.
That was his fundamental reason for sleeping in class.
Unfortunately, the homeroom teacher who caught him sleeping taught literature and didn't care for his scientific nonsense. Every time the deskmate brought it up, he would sigh, saying that if it had been the biology teacher, he wouldn't have been punished.
Makiya believed the biology teacher would have just beaten him to death.
In the mysterious space, Wizard Makiya hummed a Hogwarts school tune as he walked along the familiar narrow path, stepping out of his own tunnel in a good mood.
A giant round table sat at the center of the space. Perhaps Wizard Makiya had arrived at an awkward time, for the mysterious space was currently empty.
'It looks like I'm the first one here this time.' Wizard Makiya pulled out the nearest chair and sat down, resting his head on the table and spacing out.
The table had originally been rectangular, but as the army of Makiyas grew, the rectangular table had become too long and wide, making discussions inconvenient.
Therefore, the 'Tabby Cat' boss had followed everyone's suggestion, pulled out a saw, and performed some carpentry. Within three days, he had converted the table into a large round one, even hand-crafting a giant rotating glass top for the table to make it easier to eat during gatherings.
"Er... hello, excuse me, where is this?"
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