Snape stood in the corner of the classroom, staring at the scene before him, completely stunned.
An owl. A phoenix. A unicorn. A snake. A Niffler… More than a dozen different Patronuses filled the room—some flying, some walking, some circling overhead, others coiled on the floor. Their shapes varied wildly in size and form.
Some were ordinary animals. Others were magical creatures.
Their outlines weren't stable. Parts of their bodies kept dissolving into mist, flickering between solid and intangible, as if they might scatter at any moment only to pull themselves back together.
Snape's mouth twitched as his gaze swept over the silver-white creatures.
The largest by far was the snake.
Its long body had already coiled several times around the classroom, silver scales gleaming faintly. Every time its massive form pressed against the barrier on the walls, the protective runes rippled like they were struggling to hold.
When the giant snake first appeared, its sheer size had made Snape think it was a Basilisk.
But a closer look proved it wasn't.
From the visible features, he couldn't identify what kind of snake it was at all.
An extinct ancient species? Or some rare magical creature?
Snape had no idea.
The Patronus Charm was an ancient spell. In all the centuries of recorded history, no wizard had ever possessed more than one.
No matter how rare or spectacular the form—magical beast, extinct prehistoric creature, even the legendary giant shape—every witch or wizard still had only a single Patronus.
One.
Not a whole menagerie.
He looked at Lucien, now surrounded by the dozen silver guardians. The boy stood calmly in the center with his eyes closed, silver light casting shifting patterns across his face.
Snape suddenly remembered the warning he had given at the very beginning of their lessons: never reveal your Patronus carelessly in front of others. The form was fixed and rarely changed. Showing it would expose your identity.
Well. With this many Patronuses, Lucien wouldn't have to worry about that problem anymore.
Patronuses had no true physical body—they were made entirely of mist.
These silver creatures of every shape overlapped and intertwined with one another, their forms blending together as if they were all part of the same whole.
That was the only reason they could all fit inside the classroom without tearing the place apart.
Through the gaps between their shifting bodies, Snape could see the mist surrounding Lucien slowly fading, like a tide receding.
In the final wisps still clinging to him, Snape caught a glimpse of something.
Messy silver-white hair. The faint edge of illusory robes. A barely visible outline…
A person?
A humanoid Patronus?
Snape, who knew the spell inside and out, immediately thought of one famous case.
The ancient Greek wizard Andros, who could summon a Patronus in the shape of a giant.
According to legend, Andros's Patronus had taken his own form—but stood over ten meters tall, every bit as imposing as the real giants. And it had been powerful enough to fight in actual combat, not limited to driving off Dementors and the like.
But that was ancient history, recorded so vaguely it might as well be myth.
Snape blinked.
In that single instant, the humanoid figure standing in front of Lucien—its back to Snape—vanished.
The silver outline dissolved into the air like smoke on the wind, silent and traceless.
As if it had only been a trick of the light.
Snape's black eyes narrowed as he studied the other Patronuses still filling the room.
The owl was still flying. The snake was still coiled. None of them showed any sign of fading.
The mist remained too, though much thinner than before.
At the same time, Lucien—still surrounded by the guardians—slowly opened his eyes.
Silver light gradually faded from his dark-green irises, as if something had been burning deep inside them. His gaze naturally found Snape in the corner.
"The soul," he said quietly. "It looks far more colorful this way."