Chapter 18
Chapter 18
What had to come would come.
The instant Suer entered the Great Hall, he spotted the brown, bushy back of Hermione’s head.
He hurriedly rubbed his face and arranged it into an expression of utter exhaustion.
As he passed the Gryffindor table, Suer slipped into the seat beside Hermione and took a ham roll from her plate.
Startled, Hermione raised her fork defensively and turned toward the thief.
“Good afternoon, Hermione,” Suer said weakly.
She ignored him, though her body relaxed. Turning away, she continued eating.
“What happened to you, Suer?” Neville asked, appearing at the perfect moment.
With an air of studied casualness–and a voice just loud enough–Suer explained that he had overslept, missed breakfast, lost House points, and then made a mistake in Herbology that had left him slightly injured.
Forgive me, Professor Sprout.
As he spoke, he watched Hermione from the corner of his eye.
Unfortunately, she gave no reaction. Neville, on the other hand, was alarmed by every sentence.
“Is Professor Sprout strict? We have Herbology this afternoon.”
Though mildly disappointed, Suer answered.
“Don’t worry, Neville. Professor Sprout is kind and very good–as long as you don’t touch random plants in her greenhouse.”
“I should eat at my own table. I need a nap after lunch, and we have Professor McGonagall’s Transfiguration class this afternoon. See you at dinner, Neville.”
He rose slowly.
“See you at dinner, Hermione.”
Hermione continued eating without turning. Had Suer’s hearing been less sharp, he might have missed her quiet huff.
Success!
The instant his back was turned, Suer discarded the exhausted act and returned cheerfully to the Hufflepuff table.
“Who’s that Gryffindor girl?” one of his roommates asked. They had witnessed everything.
“What is she to you?”
“I know! They must be boyfriend and girlfriend,” another Hufflepuff first-year declared. “My brother sent letters to his girlfriend by owl all summer.”
“Your brother attends Hogwarts too?” someone else asked.
…
The children abandoned Suer and launched into a lively discussion.
He had no intention of answering. He speared a succulent piece of beef and put it into his mouth.
Delicious.
That afternoon, the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw first-years sat quietly in the Transfiguration classroom, waiting for the lesson to begin.
“Why hasn’t Professor McGonagall arrived?” Justin whispered.
Suer glanced at the tabby cat sitting motionless as a statue on the teacher’s desk.
“Professor McGonagall has been here the entire time,” he murmured.
A question mark seemed to appear above Justin’s head.
It instantly became an exclamation point.
The tabby moved.
She took several steps along the desk, leaped, and transformed before touching the floor into a witch in dark green satin robes.
Tabby cat equals Professor McGonagall.
She seemed pleased by the effect. One corner of her mouth lifted before she turned to face the class, stern once more.
“Transfiguration is an extremely–extremely–dangerous and complex form of magic. In my classroom, I expect you to remember every instruction I give. Anyone who misbehaves will be removed and not permitted to return.”
Professor McGonagall unleashed the full force of her presence.
The room fell deathly silent.
Before their fascinated eyes, she waved her wand and effortlessly transformed a desk into a large pink pig, then turned several books into lifelike birds.
One landed on Suer’s desk. When he reached out to touch it, it flew away.
The exquisite demonstration made every child’s eyes shine.
*Coach–no, Professor–I want to learn that!*
Professor McGonagall saw it in their faces.
“Those of you who studied your textbooks in advance should know the five principal exceptions to Gamp’s Law. Who can name them?”
A Ravenclaw girl raised her hand. Professor McGonagall nodded to her.
“Miss Dupin.”
Lisa Dupin had been among the last students Sorted the previous evening. The Hat had shouted Ravenclaw the instant it touched her head.
She stood with flushed cheeks but a confident voice.
“There are five major exceptions. First, we cannot conjure fine food from nothing. Second, we cannot permanently turn an inanimate object into a living creature, though we can animate it temporarily. Third, Transfiguration cannot create objects with magical properties; that belongs to alchemy. Fourth, we cannot transform one object into several separate objects–for example, one table into two deer. Fifth, Transfiguration cannot create something from nothing.”
“Very good. Five points to Ravenclaw.”
Professor McGonagall nodded approvingly.
“Why are the rest of you not writing down what Miss Dupin said?”
Quills began flying.
…
“Now close your books and take out your wands. We shall begin by practicing the incantation.”
The children drew their wands in unison and obediently followed Professor McGonagall’s instructions.
“A firm, decisive movement of the wand is essential to Transfiguration. Do not add unnecessary flourishes.”
After examining their gestures, she spoke again.
“Mr. Finch-Fletchley has provided us with an excellent example. His wand movement is beautiful–elegant, even. Unfortunately, Transfiguration is not a dueling exhibition. It does not require you to dance for the class.”
Quiet laughter rippled through the room.
Justin lowered his wand, blushing.
It was only a brief interruption. Professor McGonagall continued correcting them with grave attention.
“Speak the incantation clearly and forcefully. There must be a pause between ‘gu’ and ‘ra,’ but it need not be long.”
Low chanting filled the classroom.
*This sounds like a recruitment meeting for some sinister magical cult,* Suer thought.
His body nevertheless practiced exactly as instructed.
“Magic is not merely theory. It is a practical discipline.”
When the theoretical portion ended, Professor McGonagall distributed one matchstick to every student.
“Your task is to transform the match before you into a needle. The essential point is this: as you move your wand, you must hold a clear and detailed conception of the desired object in your mind.”
“Professor, I want to learn how you turned the books into birds,” one young badger said, raising his hand.
“Mr. Morn.” Professor McGonagall’s expression hardened. “Every beginner must first master this step, as I explained earlier–if you were listening.”
“Transfiguration is an advanced and dangerous discipline. You must establish solid foundations one step at a time.”
“Now, begin.”