The Turning of Fate

Magic was a complex and multifaceted field of study. For most people, reaching great heights in even one branch was already extraordinarily difficult. To innovate and develop in multiple directions was something only a very small number of truly powerful people were qualified to attempt.

Professor McGonagall was strong, but not strong to that extent.

As for alchemy, Professor McGonagall could only say that she "knew it." Since her main focus had always been Transfiguration, she had not gone very far down that path.

Even when she had first studied alchemy, it had merely been to explore more possibilities for Transfiguration—to try directly creating alchemical items through Transfiguration.

After that exploration failed to yield much, she had not continued delving into alchemy.

Even so, it was more than enough to teach an outsider like Roger the basics.

Professor McGonagall had her own reasons for teaching Roger alchemy.

She had come to see that Roger was an exceedingly stubborn person. The boy was willing to listen to advice, but as long as he believed something was right, nothing could stop him from moving forward. Even if there was only a slim chance of survival ahead, he would still press on without hesitation.

Minerva McGonagall had not forgotten their conversation outside The Leaky Cauldron.

Reversing time, finding salvation from the river of time... Life was long. Who could live without regrets?

Whether as a teacher or on a personal level, Professor McGonagall hoped Roger could live well.

So she wanted to guide Roger onto a new path. Experimenting on external objects had a far greater margin for error than experimenting on his own body. It was safer.

Of course, studying alchemy was not something accomplished overnight. This would have to be taken slowly.

After agreeing with Roger that she would set aside time to personally teach him alchemy, the two left the deputy headmistress's office and headed for the spacious courtyard of Hogwarts Castle.

Rolanda Hooch's flying lesson was about to begin.

After walking for a while, Roger and Professor McGonagall arrived to find that the students had mostly gathered already.

Hogwarts's educational philosophy valued teaching according to aptitude. Ordinary students took ordinary classes, while ambitious students studied independently in the library before joining the small classes offered by teacher-run clubs. You went to manual labor, I went to the Ministry of Magic—everyone had a bright future ahead of them.

It also valued unity and competition. Once students had been divided among the four Houses, they did not completely lose contact with one another. On the contrary, to give them more opportunities to interact, classes were generally taught to two randomly selected Houses together.

For example, lions and snakes might have class together this time, then lions and eagles the next.

And today happened to be another joint class between Slytherin and Gryffindor. They stood in two lines by House, openly and covertly making faces at each other.

This was simply the usual "exchange" between the two rival Houses. But upon seeing Roger arrive, both the little lions of Gryffindor and the little snakes of Slytherin could not help twitching their faces, and the atmosphere gradually settled down.

Draco Malfoy, who had formed a grudge against Harry Potter after Harry had refused his overture on the train and wounded his pride, withdrew his glare from Harry and lowered his head to look at his broomstick.

Ever since he and Harry had made too much of a scene after a certain class and ended up being "punished" by Roger, he had not wanted to provoke Roger again.

Wasn't a Seer only supposed to predict the future? How could he see into the past too, digging up other people's embarrassing history? How shameless!

Pretending not to notice the tension between the two sides, Roger spoke with Madam Hooch alongside Professor McGonagall.

Rolanda Hooch, conservative and mild-tempered by nature, clearly had some objections to Harry, a child who had only just enrolled, becoming the school team's Seeker. Yet though she frowned, she did not openly object.

After all, one side was the deputy headmistress and a Seer, while the other was the British wizarding world's "The Boy Who Lived." And she was merely a teacher of a low-technical-skill "easy flying class." Even if she wanted to speak up...

Those who knew, knew.

Things progressed very smoothly. Harry had already possessed a great talent for flying, and with the physical talents Roger had modified for him added on top, Harry was terrifyingly strong.

As long as he trained a little and gained some experience, he would be fully qualified even to become a regular player in a world-class Quidditch league. At that level, playing in Hogwarts matches was like a second-string national team member competing in amateur events.

After Harry followed Roger's instructions and put on a demonstration before the two professors, even Madam Hooch, who loved Quidditch and hated privileged rule-breakers being forcibly shoved in, had nothing left to say.

In fact, her earlier faint displeasure had completely vanished. Now, when she looked at Harry, her eyes practically shone.

"Good, what a fine prospect!" Rolanda Hooch had already begun imagining Harry winning the Quidditch World Cup in the future.

Professor McGonagall was also very satisfied. It looked like she would not have to avoid Snape this year.

Roger was even more eager to see what entertaining scenes this year's Quidditch would bring.

Judging from their expressions, Harry, who had just performed several difficult maneuvers, knew that this time, he had it in the bag.

But just as all four present were in high spirits, an accident occurred.

"I told you, I don't need you teaching me!" Ron climbed to his feet, covered in bits of crushed grass.

"Hahahahaha..." Draco burst into uninhibited laughter at the long, red swollen welt across Ron's face, where the broomstick's wooden handle had struck him.

The Malfoy family, which prized bloodline and honor, had always looked down on the Weasley family, practically the "shame of pure-blood nobility." Seeing Ron make a fool of himself naturally delighted Draco.

"I..." Hermione Granger frowned, wanting to say something.

Seeing that Hermione still wanted to speak, Ron did not even spare Draco another thought despite him laughing at the side. His blood pressure soared as he turned red in the face and glared at Hermione. "I said it! I've had enough of you! Enough of your high-and-mighty, meddlesome attitude! No wonder you don't have any friends!"

He practically shouted the words.

The moment his words fell, Hermione's eyes reddened. Her breathing quickened as she opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but when the words reached her lips, nothing came out.

Hermione Granger was a young witch born into a Muggle family. Her family had no connection to magic whatsoever, and a single acceptance letter had sent her into this unfamiliar world.

She was curious about the magical world, yet also frightened by this foreign place where she had no family or friends.

To cope, she chose to read, arming herself with knowledge. But just as she took her first step into school, she had been "tripped."

She had run into Roger.

She had discovered that those techniques from books, things that only a handful of elite wizards could master and that she could not even figure out how to begin learning, were things truly gifted wizards could use effortlessly even as children.

Her shaken confidence had only recovered after she officially began studying at Hogwarts and discovered that Roger was an exception—most young wizards were not even as capable as she was.

Yet even so, the helplessness of having been dealt such a blow had not completely faded. The young wizards from wizarding families all knew one another before enrollment, while she alone felt excluded from every circle. That only made her feel increasingly lonely and uneasy.

She longed for friends. She longed to be recognized by others. She wanted to cast off the invisible prejudice brought by being different from everyone else in origin.

So how could she obtain those things?

Hermione Granger believed the answer was simple: Roger Virgil!

Like her, he was Muggle-born, yet he had easily earned everyone's recognition. Though most people were somewhat afraid of Roger because of how he behaved, those he had helped sincerely considered him worthy of trust and respect.

"If you feel cornered and don't know what to do, why not try finding Roger?" Words like those began circulating among the students.

Hermione envied Roger, so she decided to imitate him.

Roger did not care at all what others thought of him and stood apart from the crowd. Hermione, meanwhile, used an affectation of arrogance to make herself different.

Roger had never slowed his pace of study, and Hermione likewise spent every day in the library, studying so hard she forgot to eat and sleep.

Whenever others sought reasonable help from Roger, he would generally lend a hand if he could. Hermione, meanwhile, used her advantage of knowing a great deal to point out others' mistakes while studying magic whenever possible and offer them the correct guidance.

She freely shared the knowledge she considered most precious, hoping others would sense her goodwill.

Aside from Iron Fist Suppression of her classmates, which made students from all four Houses "maintain a surface-level friendliness whenever she was around"—something she truly had no way to imitate—Hermione had done her utmost to replicate all of Roger's actions in her own way.

But Hermione had not received a good outcome. Loneliness still lingered around her, and people treated her with respectful distance.

And today, it had become even worse...

Ron, on the other hand, was in a different situation. He had been born into a large family with many children, where he ranked low among the siblings and received little attention. His entire childhood had been filled with all sorts of frustrations.

He wanted to become a powerful wizard, someone like a Quidditch captain—the kind of person he imagined as admired by all, imposing, and held in high regard.

But after entering Hogwarts, he discovered that his talent was not enough to support those ambitions. He seemed rather mediocre at learning all kinds of knowledge.

So he began to slack off, playing wizard chess every day, doing the bare minimum on his assignments, complaining constantly, and forever muttering about all sorts of trivial things in life.

And today, his only good friend, Harry, seemed about to become the sort of person Ron had dreamed of becoming.

Ron was happy for his friend, but a bitter, aching feeling still welled up inside him.

He looked at his broomstick, a flicker of fire quietly burning in his eyes.

Try it. Just try it. Maybe I have talent too, just like Harry? A voice in his heart kept saying.

He began trying some extracurricular flying maneuvers two meters above the ground—the moves he had seen Quidditch players perform in the news.

Hermione noticed Ron's reckless behavior and tried to stop him, but Ron would not listen to her.

So she began pointing out some problems with Ron's flying, trying to keep him from making a mistake and getting hurt.

But flying required concentration. The embarrassment of having his mistakes pointed out, combined with Draco's half-smiling expression at the side, made the eleven-year-old boy feel even more humiliated.

With his mind in turmoil, the broom went out of control. It struck him across the face, and he fell to the ground.

...During previous magic classes, Ron had already been unhappy with Hermione for "meddling." He had only held it in because Harry had told him not to speak badly of others.

This time, she had "meddled" again. Old and new grievances erupted together, resulting in what had just happened.

Noticing the argument between the students, Professor McGonagall wanted to go over and stop it, but Roger raised a hand to block her.

"I'll handle it, Professor."