Magical Pets, Rats, and Tests (II)

Hermione's breathing stopped for a moment. Not out of fear, but because she had seen something in those images that she could not explain with existing magical theory. Those pets' transformations were not Transfiguration—Transfiguration required the caster to maintain a flow of magic, along with precise incantations and gestures, yet these pets showed no trace of casting during their transformations.

No wands, no incantations, no magical fluctuations. They were like something had flipped a switch, jumping from one form to another with no transition or gradual change—just a crisp, decisive snap, like turning a page.

To her, these transformations looked more like the biological experiments conducted by mad scientists in Muggle films.

"Welcome to the Nirvana Research Center." A voice came from beside her. It was not loud, but every word was perfectly clear, as though it were being spoken directly into Hermione's ear. She turned and saw a young man in a silver-gray robe standing behind a long black table.

He wore a silver half-mask over his face, smooth and undecorated, exposing only his chin and lips. His lips were thin and pale, their corners slightly raised in a professional, polite smile devoid of any warmth. His fingers were long, his nails neatly trimmed, and they tapped lightly against the tabletop, one beat at a time.

"Two types." His voice was smooth and even, like a tamed river that made no sound. "The display area on the left contains Enhanced Magical Pets. They cost five hundred Galleons. Fierce in appearance and medium-sized, their primary function is physical protection—including, but not limited to, protection from blades, clubs, blunt-force impacts, falling injuries, and Muggle firearms."

When he said "Muggle firearms," the curve of his lips widened slightly, as if he had made a mildly amusing joke. "You can think of them