Transfiguration Class and the Familiar Cat

The next day, Gryffindor and Slytherin had Transfiguration class together.

The front rows of the classroom were almost entirely occupied, and Fotkai habitually walked toward the last row in the corner. The seats around him were empty, forming an invisible vacuum zone.

He didn't mind. He placed his textbook on the desk and casually swept his gaze across the podium.

On the podium sat a tabby cat, its fur sleek, its expression stern, with markings around its eyes that resembled square-framed glasses.

Fotkai's eyes flickered slightly.

In his past life—or rather, in the original world—he had read the Harry Potter novels.

He knew this cat's identity.

—Professor Minerva McGonagall's Animagus form.

Just then, a sudden, indescribable impulse seized him.

The [Scavenger] card seemed to amplify certain uncontrollable, slightly mischievous parts of his personality.

He looked at that serious cat, and a wild thought surged up in his mind.

He stood up, and under the astonished gazes of the few students nearby who noticed him, he walked straight toward the podium.

The tabby cat seemed to sense his approach, lifting its head warily, its eyes—so reminiscent of Professor McGonagall's—fixed on him with severity.

Fotkai leaned down, his movements so fast that no one could react. He reached out both hands, gently cupped the cat's head, and then—

Smack.

He leaned in and planted a quick, solid kiss right on the cat's head.

The cat's body instantly went rigid, its fur seeming on the verge of exploding outward!

Fotkai barely suppressed the cold, almost uncontrollable laugh rising in his throat, forcibly held back the twitching corners of his mouth, quickly released his hands, and turned expressionlessly to walk back to his seat in the last row, as if the person who had just committed such an outrageous act wasn't him.

The students in the front rows who had witnessed the whole thing were stunned. A deathly silence spread through the room.

[Emotion Points +50] (From Professor McGonagall's shock, anger, and embarrassment, as well as the extreme horror of the students in the know)

[Emotion Points: 555/100]

Just then, the classroom door swung open, and Harry, Ron, and a breathless Hermione rushed in—clearly late.

Ron, oblivious and not noticing the strange atmosphere in the room, looked around, saw no professor, and loudly declared, "Is Professor McGonagall late? Lucky us..."

Before his words could finish—

The tabby cat on the podium, still stiff from being kissed, leaped down abruptly. Midair, its body rapidly expanded and transformed.

In the blink of an eye, it became Professor Minerva McGonagall, dressed in emerald-green robes, her expression like Arctic ice, her lips pressed tightly together!

She stood on the podium, her chest rising and falling slightly. Behind her square-framed glasses, her gaze was like two ice-coated blades. First, she shot a fierce glare at Fotkai, sitting in the last row with a calm, "nothing to do with me" expression.

Then she turned to Harry and Ron, who stood dumbfounded, their faces instantly turning pale.

"This..." Ron's mouth hung open wide enough to fit an egg.

"Thank you for your assessment, Mr. Weasley," Professor McGonagall said, her voice cold enough to freeze fire.

"Perhaps turning you and Mr. Potter into a pocket watch would help you better grasp the concept of time? At least then one part of you would be punctual!"

Harry and Ron were terrified out of their wits. They quickly found empty seats and sat down, not daring to look up for the rest of the class.

Professor McGonagall took a deep breath, as if struggling to calm her churning emotions. The tips of her ears still seemed to hold a faint, barely noticeable flush.

She turned around and began the lesson. Her voice was still stern, but if one listened closely, there was a hint of... an unusual tension in it.

And the culprit, Fotkai, sat quietly in the corner, head down, staring at his textbook. Only the Emotion Points notification that had just popped up on the system panel proved that he wasn't entirely unruffled inside.

[Emotion Points +20] (From the fright of Harry and Ron, the shock of Hermione, and the ongoing fear and curiosity of the other students)

[Emotion Points: 575/100]

Transfiguration class proceeded in an extremely strange atmosphere.

Professor McGonagall's voice was colder and sharper than usual, her speech a bit faster.

She avoided looking toward the corner of the last row as much as possible, as if something there deeply unsettled her.

Today's lesson was turning a toothpick into a needle.

Fotkai didn't do anything outrageous again.

He lowered his head, picked up the thin wooden toothpick on his desk, and focused all his attention on it.

He recalled the key points Professor McGonagall had just explained—

the precise rotation of the wrist, the stability of the wand's trajectory, and the need to clearly visualize every detail of the target object in his mind.

The [Scavenger] card's particular focus—or rather, the obsessive tendency to push a task to its limit—kicked in.

He shut out everything around him.

Including the occasional pfft of failed attempts and sighs of frustration from the front-row students, and even the cold, sidelong glare from the podium that, though deliberately avoided, he could still feel.

Once, twice, again and again, he waved his wand and murmured the incantation.

The first time, the toothpick only twisted.

The second time, the tip barely managed to sharpen a little.

The third time, the entire toothpick took on a metallic sheen, but its shape remained odd.

He didn't grow impatient. Expressionless, he simply repeated the motion, fine-tuning the nuances of his magical output, constantly revising the image of that "needle" in his mind.

Finally, after who knows how many attempts, the light flowing from the tip of his wand stabilized and condensed.

With a faint sound of warping, the toothpick on the desk completely transformed.

—It became a standard sewing needle, gleaming silver, with a sharp point and a clear eye.

Success.

Fotkai stared at the needle. A pure, satisfying feeling of mastering a new skill briefly suppressed the apathy and irritation brought on by the [Scavenger] card.

Almost instinctively, the corners of his mouth pulled upward into something that could be called a smile. Then he lifted his head, his gaze carrying a faint, barely noticeable hint of seeking approval—or perhaps deliberate provocation—as he looked straight at Professor McGonagall on the podium.

See, I did it.

His eyes met hers briefly in midair.

Professor McGonagall had clearly seen his success, and she had also seen that smile on his face, which to her likely seemed tinged with smugness.

Her lips immediately pressed tighter. A faint, but unmistakable, blush crept onto her cheeks.

Almost at once, she looked away, somewhat hastily, turning to the other side of the classroom. In a deliberately raised, businesslike tone, she commented on another student's work: "Very good, Miss Parvati. The shape is very close. Pay attention to controlling the luster."

She completely ignored Fotkai and the perfect needle on his desk.

But Fotkai clearly caught that moment of her embarrassment and avoidance.

[Emotion Points +15] (From Professor McGonagall's chagrin, deliberate avoidance, and forced composure)

[Emotion Points: 590/100]

The smile on Fotkai's face slowly faded, returning to its usual blankness. He lowered his head and flicked the silver needle with his finger, feeling its cool touch.

He had successfully completed the Transfiguration. But it seemed he had also successfully made the stern Deputy Headmistress want to see him even less.

Still, the Emotion Points were solidly in hand.

He slipped the needle into his robe pocket and prepared to try turning it back into a toothpick.

The lesson continued.