A Bold Idea

Andrew's schedule was actually packed full today.

In theory, after Potions class, he should have found an empty classroom to practice the Transfiguration of complex objects he had just begun to understand, then spend the time after lunch thinking about his paper and preparing for that afternoon's group meeting.

Even the evening would not be free. First-year Astronomy was tonight. Although the classroom was closer to the common room, there would not be much time to make use of after returning.

But he still found a secluded spot to sit down and began scribbling in his notebook with a pencil—today's Potions class had affected him even more deeply than Transfiguration.

Of course, it was not Professor Snape who had influenced him, but Potions itself.

Though he did not come from a chemical engineering background, he had still noticed how absurd Potions was as a discipline—it was a subject where rigor and magic intertwined.

No, no, that's not it. Not that...

Andrew quickly rejected his own thought. I just haven't found the rules behind it yet. I'm simply using magic to cover up what I don't understand...

And besides, those things don't conflict...

He wrote down several words in his notebook, then crossed them out. After repeating this several times, he finally figured out what exactly had stirred him.

With a touch of delight, Andrew wrote a sentence in his notebook.

[Based on my current understanding, the essence of brewing a potion is to break down the magical properties of the ingredients in a cauldron and obtain intermediate products of the reaction under specific conditions.]

It was certainly not precise, but it was the best explanation Andrew could currently come up with.

After that, Andrew added the words that had inspired him.

[And in my understanding, the essence of Transfiguration is to place an object, under the effect of magic, into an intermediate state where it becomes a Transfigured object that is neither its original form nor truly real. So, could Transfiguration be used to preserve extracted magical components, or even use this special state to replace the brewing of potions?]

Did I write this?

Andrew looked at the two sentences, then pointed at himself with a finger, wearing a comical expression as though he had just found a diary recording his childhood dreams—was this really something he ought to be thinking about?

There were countless Potions masters in the Wizarding world, and Transfiguration experts were everywhere. If something like this had any potential, would it not have been researched long ago? Did it really fall to a complete newcomer who had entered the Wizarding world less than three days ago?

But... what if?

After thinking for a while, Andrew ultimately decided to laugh and erase this bold ambition. But after giving the notebook one last look, he still could not bring himself to destroy such an arrogant idea.

"Stop thinking so much. Practice Transfiguration properly first. If Potions really doesn't work out, just throw money at practice..."

He shook his head helplessly—practice still made perfect, even with Potions.

It would just be an enormous expense. Although they had purchased a standard set of potion ingredients when they enrolled, those were all supplementary materials. The main ingredients for every potion-brewing experiment were supplied by the school.

That meant that if he wanted to practice Potions privately, he would have to buy every ingredient himself. And even if he produced a finished potion, there was almost no way to recoup any of the cost.

And that was only the most basic part. Once he became sufficiently proficient in Potions, he would need to purchase large quantities of potion ingredients to analyze exactly which magical properties of the materials were being used during brewing... At that stage, not a single Galleon could be spared.

Spend...

Andrew gritted his teeth and made the decision. If it came down to it, Dumbledore could suffer a little—no, Gryffindor could suffer a little. The editorial department could take the blame!

Having made this decision to practically burn Galleons, Andrew resolutely stuffed his notebook into his bag and headed out of the castle. Since lunch had not started yet, he decided to test a method he had just thought of for tackling his Transfiguration problem.

About ten minutes later, he found a rope that met his requirements and began the step before Transfiguration practice: tying knots.

I still can't Transfigure simple objects into complex ones, so I'll try the reverse—use a model that looks complicated but is actually simple for basic Transfiguration, then work backward by destroying it to explore the principles.

Unfortunately, he could not remember any complicated knots. After tying several simple ones, Andrew could barely wait to turn the rope into a wooden stick. Then, without hesitation, he destroyed it in the simplest way possible—he rested the stick on the edge of a desk, then gave the slanted end a kick.

He heard the crisp crack of the wooden stick breaking, but unfortunately, the instant the whole thing was damaged, the stick turned back into a limp rope and fell to the floor. The rope itself was unharmed.

No different from my previous attempts. But what if I do this...

Andrew cast the Transfiguration again and got ink onto the stick—this time, after it was broken, a very thin flake of dried ink fell off.

Interesting...

This time, Andrew stained the rope with ink.

The wooden stick remained intact, and when it transformed back, the ink stain was still on the rope.

No change... just like before. Even the ink marks are in the same places on the knots...

Then what if I use the knots as boundaries and make a stick out of two different materials?

He raised the difficulty, but the result was unsatisfactory... The stick he Transfigured looked like an unfinished tree branch.

Expected...

"Then... the final step... turn a stick into a rope with knots..."

Andrew tapped the broken broom handle he had removed with his wand.

A very strange rope appeared—it had a knot that could not be undone. Even with magical assistance, Andrew could not untie that firm lump. It was as though it had existed from the moment the rope was woven.

But a smile appeared on Andrew's face. It was not a complete success, but it was progress—his guess and the direction of his practice were correct.

A perfect exercise. I can begin my first paper now... if everything goes smoothly.

He put the poor broom handle back, then cheerfully used the Levitation Charm to make the rope untie itself. With another wave of his wand, he made it coil neatly inside his bag.

Something feels off... It's not the surroundings, not the classroom, and not my classmates. It's something about how I perceive myself... Forget it. If I can't figure it out, I can't figure it out...

He thought about it, but got nowhere in the end. Then, delighted by his gains, he happily left the empty classroom and headed quickly toward the dining hall.

That afternoon, he would have to face a group of people whose ideas did not quite align with his own. Worse, he had to pretend to be friendly with them in order to blend in. Just thinking about that exhausting situation made him unwilling to skimp on his meal.