Still panting as if she'd done a marathon, Hermione heard how Albus finished the levitation charm, letting her gently down on the mattress where she fidgeted in joy.
"I'm so glad! she cried in excitement and stretched her arms - only becoming worried: This time she had not got any feathers! "Albus - why haven't I got feathers?" she asked fearfully. "Did I fall back in development?"
"No, I don't think so." He rose from the chair and came to the mattress, sitting down next to her. Offering her an arm to lie in, he explained: "Most animagni learn about their form growing in. Yet - as you've learned last time - this can be a bit hurtful because the mind can not support the body by it. But as soon as the mind knows, the actual change becomes much easier. Then it is mostly a question of training and concentration."
"Does this mean I'm going to change completely soon?" Hermione asked and cuddled closer to him.
"Yes, I think so. You're ready for it - and quicker than any other student I've ever taught. Minerva probably will become envious - she needed six lessons until she developed her nice tabby fur." Albus looked down on Hermione and kissed her forehead. "A swan - pity, isn't it? I was so looking forward to getting a duck soon. I've already ordered oranges ..."
"Albus!" Hermione used her elbow for a kick in his ribs. "Aren't you ashamed of teasing a poor almost duck?"
"No, for I am a Slytherin. We're never ashamed." He pulled her closer, laying his robe - blue on this afternoon - around her. "By the way: Your idea to look at your image in the water was brilliant."
"Thank you," Hermione smiled up at him. "I'm only a bit confused. Did you see the image too? I was gray - and I've never seen a gray swan before."
"Then you''ve never seen a swan chicken, darling Hermione," Albus said. "You're very young and so is your animagus form."
Hermione chewed on her under lip. "But ...," she said thoughtfully, "... I'd love to know what kind of a swan I am. Being a gray chicken could mean I'm to become a swan of the white or the black variety - or couldn't it?"
"No," Albus said cheerfully. "I don't like black and you're not supposed to become the wicked wizard's daughter."
"Hmm?" Hermione was irritated.
"Swans' sea - a ballet by Piotr Illjitsch Tchaikovsky. I'll try to get us tickets soon. Then you'll learn the tale of the white and the black swan," Albus explained.
"You really wouldn't like it if I were a black swan?" Hermione was a bit disappointed. She actually liked the thought.
"I would like you even if you were to become a chicken. So I wouldn't mind if you were a black swan, only I know: The chances of you becoming one are pretty small. Or do you have a few Aborigines in your pedigree?" Albus looked amused.
"Australian natives? I know they've got strong magic, but no - I don't think I'm related to them," Hermione said. "How would this be connected to me being a black swan?"
Albus obviously became a bit cramped by seating on the mattress. So he put his boots off, swung his long legs up and stretched next to Hermione. "A wizard's animagus form," he explained then, "is always connected to his descent. That means that somebody whose ancestors were mostly North Europeans won't become something exotic like a lion or a baboon. And Miss Chang - being from Asian descent - surely won't become a cow of the Friesian variety. She'd perhaps become one of an Asian variety, but never a Friesian. In my case with ancestors from Iceland this rule meant the gyrfalcon. For Minerva who's born as a Stuart and part of an ancient Scottish family it meant a tabby cat - an animal at home in Scotland too. And in your case it's the white swan - Cygnus olor, to be precise. It's the only variety native to North Europe."
