Chapter 7: Transfiguration.

The exact art of transfiguration is certainly one of the most fascinating aspects of magic.

As such, it was vastly different from our previous classes; Both in the way it was taught and the actual knowledge that was passed down. It became clear to me that his class would be special when I found out we would be studying with the Gryffindors, thus being my first class with the house of the foolish and its golden trio.

The moment we entered McGonagall's class, we found it remarkably empty.

The teacher wasn't here, apparently, and a rather stiff tabby cat was currently sitting on her desk.

A predetermined seating arrangement was inscribed on the board. My place was in the first raw next to Padma Patil, on the opposite side of one Hermione Granger.

While the other students were taking their seats, I felt the sweet call of revenge enthralling me. The memory of her previous mockery and disregard for the violation of the sanctity of my cheeks at the hands of the vile madam Malkins was still fresh in my mind.

Walking to the cat, I started scratching it behind it's ears. Careful not to get scratched by my teacher…this is a very strange sentence.

"Aren't you an adorable little kitty? You should probably leave, I don't think Professor McGonagall would take kindly to your presence here."

I fussed over the Scottish woman, internally celebrating while I struggled to stay impassive. The later couldn't do anything, her embarrassment would only become greater. And the best thing about it; she couldn't do anything to punish me.

'Can't give me detention for patting a cat, now can you?' I thought, while returning to my seat and opening my transfiguration book.

Everyone but Harry Potter and the ginger kid were present and seated; our professor was sadly still missing.

The doors were opened suddenly, as the two lost boys ran inside the classroom. The scrawny boy with glasses was obviously Harry Potter, while some students were still infatuated with their childhood tales of the boy-who-lived, most have realised he naught but another student here to learn about the wonders of magic.

"Great, can you imagine what McGonagall's face would look like if we were late." Joked the Weasley, as he stopped to catch his breath.

His companion didn't have the time to retort, as the tabby cat that watched over us all this time leaped, becoming a rather dissatisfied stern witch.

"That was bloody brilliant!" exclaimed the disgraceful ginger, who for once said something right.

"Thank you for that assessment Mr. Weasley, perhaps it would be more useful if I were to transfigure Mr. Potter and yourself into a pocket watch? That way one of you may be on time." Asked their severe head of house.

"We got lost…" said Potter apologetically.

"Then perhaps a map? I trust you don't need one to find your seats." Rebutted the animagus.

The whole class was rightfully amazed at our teacher's performance, so much that most have missed the royal burn the two boys have suffered.

"My name is Minerva McGonagall. Transfiguration is one of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts, and while it is a subject taught by many prestigious witches and wizards over the years, it is not a discipline to be prided upon for its simplicity" She said "To properly transfigure anything, careful and clear understanding of what you are trying to summon or change is a necessity."

A wave of her wand saw the desk turned into a living pig, another returned it to its initial form, much to our admiration.

The class was amazed, we have seen nothing like that in our earlier lessons.

"Transfiguration is one of the most important steps in mastering our magic, the greatest witches and wizards might spend a lifetime trying and only scratch its surface. As such, anyone messing around in this class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

The students were both interested and worried at the way our instructor was scanning the classroom, looking for something known only to her before nodding in satisfaction.

Me? I was simply thrilled.

'it's pretty hard to be afraid of someone you just petted.' I thought, a bit amused by their reaction.

Professor McGonagall shot me one of the deadliest looks known to Man, even the Basilisk would be impressed by her attempt at ocular murder.

'I stand corrected'

The notes we had to take were based on a switching charm, a type of transformation. The example we currently studied was about the transformation of a wooden matchstick into a steel needle, although we were limited to theory.

From my understanding of the lesson, we were in no way summoning a needle out of thin air. Instead, the spell changed the molecular structure of the wooden matchstick into the form of a steel needle.

Although our transfiguration professor was not clear about I it, I conjectured that the understanding and clarity she talked about were in fact the understanding of the type of metal and characteristics of the needle as well as the components of the matchstick and its own nature.

'Visualization of the process must be key to formulating the intent.' I thought, scribbling furiously while taking note of any new information the teacher would offer.

The lecture took a little more than half an hour, and it was mainly to make us understand that we were not destroying or creating matter but simply transforming it; converting it from one form to another.

McGonagall waved her wand and a single matchstick appeared on each table.

"You have one hour, you may begin." Informed us our teacher.

It was time for practise.

I cleared my mind from all insignificants thoughts and concentrated on the matter at hand.

Taking out my wand, which brimmed with power reflecting its excitement at being used. I focused on the initial components; a wooden stick and a head made of sulphur; highly flammable, carbonic object. Doing the same with the final result, a pointy steel needle; oxidized iron smelted into this refined form.

I visualized the transformation as precisely as I could; from the molecules of the match shifting and transforming into different matter, to wooden hardening and becoming a silvery, pointy needle.

I waved my wand in the correct movement, giving more power to my already refined intent and the spell was cast.

Instantly, the match was transformed into a needle.

'...damn' I thought.

I was not quite expecting such positive results, the rest of the class was still struggling while my own match was already a pointy needle.

I thought about hiding it, this kind of anomaly would give me much attention. Something that could be both positive and negative depending on how I ride the wave.

'But I do want to show off a bit…' I thought, being reasonable was well and good, but everyone has the need to show their accomplishments and I was no exception.

Not for recognition or points or some silly thing, but to establish myself and my success as a normal thing. Building the reputation of a magical genius would serve me well in the future, the advantages were considerable.

The decision was taken out of my hands entirely, as the transfiguration teacher was currently standing in front of my desk, eyeing the offending needle with hawk-like focus.

"Mr. Arran, how did you get this needle?" She asked me seriously, half expecting me to have cheated, probably.

"I transformed it, Professor." I responded as calmly as I could.

"Show me." Her voice did not betray her emotions, while her face was too stern to read.

The teacher waved her wand and I was provided with another matchstick, while the rest of the class were observing me with various reactions.

I waved my wand, casting the spell was considerably easier the second time, when you already obtained some familiarity with it.

And surely enough, the matchstick became a lovely steel needle. It was picked up by my transfiguration teacher, who eyed it with an unreadable look.

"See? The needle is a silver and pointy, good job Mr. Arran. This will be five points for Ravenclaw." The transfiguration teacher said with a rare smile.

"Bloody hell." Ronald Weasley said what everyone thought, but earned himself the ire of a stern animagus for the second time today.

Ignoring the intense staring of Hermione Granger and my fellow Ravenclaws, I worked on my transformation some more.

McGonagall made it clear that she would not go easy on me, asking me to transfigure multiple needles at once and to add some carvings on the surface of the metal. The Scottish witch drowned me in work with an enthusiasm that matched my own, and that absolutely didn't stem from her earlier humiliation in feline form.

I loved every second of it.

"You should focus on the transformation itself, rather than the final result." I advised the Patil girl beside me, while trying to add a spiral pattern to a needle.

Transfiguration was truly fascinating.

-BREAK-

Terry Boot POV:

Magnus Arran is an anomaly.

It was something i noticed from the moment i entered his compartment in the Hogwarts express. The boy was obviously knowledgable, familiar with the working of our world, i deduced that he was from a wizarding family.

I was wrong.

Magnus was a muggleborn, who managed to research the wizarding world with such efficiency that there was functionally no way to know his blood status from his behaviour alone. The boy was a walking insult to talks of blood supremacy, Father would love him.

And it was but the tip of the iceberg.

He was sorted in Ravenclaw, one of the few correct assumption i made about him. But even by our high academic standard, Magnus was a monster.

He absorbed information like a sponge, excelled in all our classes so far and outclassed everyone by such a margin that it was almost comedic.

'Almost.' i thought, a i watched him explain the switching spell to Padma Patil, who failed to uncover his secrets earlier in the great hall. His instruction were enough to turn the tip of the match silver, much to her happiness.

'A Ravenclaw wouldn't help her...' That was clear, we revelled in academic excellence, it did not leave much margin to help other students. That would be counterproductive.

Magnus Arran was an anomaly, one i could use to my advantage.

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Uncle Sheo's here!

It's a small chapter, I didn't have much time to write today. Too much work, you know the drill...

i might, however, write a second chapter later today, it will depend on how much time i have.