Petting the Cat

Chapter 15: Cat Petting the Next Morning

Brook woke up early for once.

In the dormitory, Harry and Ron were still snoring away, while the other beds were already empty.

He washed up quickly and headed out.

In the common room, he spotted Hermione, a book in hand.

"Morning, Hermione."

"Brook, you're way too late. Any later and you'd miss breakfast."

Brook gave a faint smile.

Hermione's words had to be read between the lines.

For instance, that remark sounded like a scolding, but really she was worried he'd skip breakfast.

And he was sure she'd been waiting for him, hadn't eaten herself.

"Let's go, then. See what's good."

They walked to the Great Hall together.

Breakfast was pretty standard.

Toast, bacon, sausages, fried eggs, boiled eggs, butter, and all sorts of jam.

Hermione wasn't that hungry, just had a boiled egg.

Brook, on the other hand, wolfed down a fair bit.

Chocolate could replenish energy, but it didn't fill you up.

Hermione stared at him in surprise.

She knew he had a big appetite, but she'd never seen him scarf food like this.

"Brook, what's wrong?"

"Probably a growth spurt. Eating a bit more."

Hermione rolled her eyes, didn't press further, just helped pile food onto his plate.

Once Brook was full, they hurried off to the Transfiguration classroom.

First lesson of the day was their Head of House's class, so they had to be early.

Hermione saw the first three rows were already taken and grumbled quietly to Brook.

"All your fault for eating so much. Now there's no good seats left."

She quickly grabbed a spot in the fourth row.

Brook shrugged.

His attention was on the tabby cat on the podium.

His system had plenty of tasks related to Professor McGonagall.

One of them was [Pet Minerva McGonagall's Tabby Cat Form].

It wasn't just about finishing the task, though.

He was more curious—wanted to know what it felt like to pet a human turned into a cat.

But it was the first day of term. Would it be bad to mess with his own Head of House?

His body, however, was honest. His feet carried him to the podium without thinking.

He looked at the tabby cat, and the tabby cat tilted its head, looking back at him with obvious confusion in its eyes.

Brook reached out with his sinful hand.

Not bad to the touch.

Too bad.

It was a cat and a lady, not a catgirl.

The tabby cat stiffened all over, completely frozen.

Σ(っ°Д°;)っ

Only when Brook instinctively started scratching the soft fur under its chin did it snap out of it.

"Swoosh."

The tabby cat leaped off the podium, transforming back into Professor McGonagall before it hit the ground.

Professor McGonagall's face was stern, but there was a faint, barely noticeable blush on her cheeks.

The entire classroom of young witches and wizards gasped.

Hermione, especially, had pure terror in her eyes.

Brook, however, seemed unconcerned.

The saying goes: ignorance is bliss.

As a young wizard from a Muggle family, he had no way of knowing that cat was Professor McGonagall in disguise.

Perfectly reasonable.

If it had been a real cat, he might have gone in for a few sniffs.

"Cool."

"Mr. Lott, while you may have a fondness for cats or small animals, many creatures in the Magical World are extremely dangerous. In unfamiliar situations, do not touch them lightly."

"Yes, Professor."

"Now, please return to your seat."

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Brook walked over and sat down beside Hermione.

"You really scared me. Thank goodness the professor didn't expel you," Hermione said, still shaken.

Brook's eyes lit up.

Right!

He could still get expelled!

Why hadn't he thought of that sooner?

He'd have to properly review the "suicide mission" tasks in the system.

Earn rewards and get kicked out.

Perfect.

"Thanks, Hermione."

Hermione lifted her chin high.

Their first Transfiguration lesson tasked them with turning a matchstick into a needle.

When Professor McGonagall demonstrated, it looked simple enough.

With a casual flick of her wand, the matchstick became a needle.

But when Brook tried it himself, he found it was nothing like that.

He attempted it over and over, but not only did the matchstick fail to become a needle—it didn't even show the slightest change.

So he started staring blankly at the matchstick.

At the start of the lesson, Professor McGonagall had emphasized the key to Transfiguration: imagination.

They needed to construct a clear mental image of the target form and a blueprint of the transformation steps.

The clearer the thought, the closer the result to expectation.

Of course, focus and magical control also played a part.

Brook mulled over Professor McGonagall's words repeatedly.

His Occlumency gave him extraordinary concentration.

His top-tier Dark Arts talent, while not covering Transfiguration, granted him a significant edge in magical control.

As for the target form—a needle's structure wasn't complex.

Clearly, the problem lay in constructing the transformation blueprint.

He needed to break the steps down further.

Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall was quietly watching Brook.

After all, in all her years of teaching, Brook was the first student bold enough to touch her.

She was full of anticipation for this genius who had mastered Occlumency at age eleven.

She wanted to see his talent in Transfiguration.

And so she watched as Brook snapped the head off the matchstick.

Then he pointed his wand at the remaining stick and cast a Switching Spell.

The stick gradually took on a silvery metallic sheen.

Professor McGonagall's pupils widened.

She had seen prodigies before.

Some had even turned a matchstick into a needle in their very first lesson.

But Brook clearly wasn't one of those students naturally gifted in Transfiguration.

Otherwise, his earlier attempts wouldn't have been completely fruitless.

Yet after just a few minutes of thought, he succeeded?

Something was definitely off.

Brook cast the Switching Spell twice more, successfully turning matchsticks into metal.

Then he began shaping the needle's tail and tip.

Professor McGonagall walked over at that moment.

She levitated the needle Brook had Transfigured in midair, letting the whole class see it clearly.

"Everyone, look. Mr. Lott has succeeded."

Brook blushed slightly.

Not because of the praise.

Mainly because the needle he'd Transfigured was... hard to describe.

If told in advance it was a needle, maybe it could be recognized.

Otherwise, it was a bit... abstract.

Professor McGonagall encouraged Brook with a few words, then had everyone continue practicing.

Hermione eagerly began waving her wand at the matchstick.

If she weren't holding a wand, you'd think she was trying to chop something.

By the end of class, her matchstick finally showed some change—the tip had emerged.

"Mr. Lott, stay behind."

Hermione tensed up immediately.

Professor McGonagall wasn't going to punish Brook for the cat-petting incident, was she?

So she deliberately took her time packing her bag, hoping to eavesdrop.

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