"Wake up, Harry. Not all of that was true."
Fred and George gaped. They had thought something was off, and now they knew why. They had seen straight through the fabrications beneath that wonderful story. They just hadn't expected Harry to believe every word.
The Elder Wand? What a joke. Only a little kid like Ron would believe it existed.
"Maybe some parts aren't true... but everyone says nothing's impossible when it comes to Dumbledore."
Harry glanced at his leg, which was still healing. Madam Pomfrey had told him to rest for the whole afternoon. "Besides, the lesson still stands. Hold fast to what you believe, build up your strength, never give up... and then hit back hard."
"That part's true, but... Dumbledore's Wand being the Elder Wand? Mum said it was a fairy tale when she told us about it..."
"Maybe some of it is," Harry said, his gaze steady. "As long as the lesson's right. Anyway, I want to give it a try."
This was the first time Harry had led a small team, and the only guidance he had found was Dumbledore's biography. This failure had helped him figure out quite a few things.
++++
"All our points are gone... When was the last time we lost the lot?"
"Three years ago? Or was it four?"
In the Gryffindor Common Room, the older students weren't worried at all. The House Cup had been out of Gryffindor's reach for ages. Losing it again made little difference.
What mattered was how Harry, a Gryffindor through and through, was doing now.
"Hope it hasn't crushed him. There's one thing every Gryffindor needs to remember: when Slytherin starts losing, Snape shows up..."
"Second, don't start a war with Slytherin unless a Quidditch match is coming up..."
Someone nearby added cheerfully, "Because Professor McGonagall gets a little less fair around then..."
"And third, most important of all, studying comes first..."
A Sixth Year looked at the grinning Fifth Years. "How are you lot sitting around chatting at a time like this? It's your OWLs year. Finished your homework? Read ahead for your new classes? Revised everything from before?"
"Ah. Right, right..."
The Fifth Years who had joined the group sprang up as though Professor McGonagall herself had appeared and hurried off to their rooms.
--
Andrew knew nothing about what was happening in the Gryffindor Common Room. That did nothing to ease his nerves in Transfiguration class.
Even a fool could feel the tension. From the moment Professor McGonagall stepped into the classroom, the air seemed to be under a jinx that made breathing a struggle.
"Let's begin."
Professor McGonagall tried hard to appear calm, which only made her more frightening. There were no Gryffindors in the room, but every student still trembled.
Fortunately, her expression softened a little as the lesson went on. Most students managed to turn the beans they had been given into glass marbles. A few marbles were still distinctly bean-shaped, but those students had at least changed the objects' form.
"Three points to Ravenclaw."
"Three points to Hufflepuff."
At Professor McGonagall's slightly weary words, the force that seemed to have a hand around every student's throat finally vanished.
"Now hand in last week's homework, then write up a record of what we covered today."
The assignments were passed forward one by one from the back of the room. Only then did everyone realize she had put off collecting them until now, rather than taking them before class.
Sitting near the front, Andrew thought for a moment, then nervously added his own paper to the pile.
"Class dismissed."
Professor McGonagall picked up the papers and left first. The relieved students remained quiet for another two or three minutes before coming back to themselves and filing out amid a rising clamor.
--
"Andrew Taylor?"
Andrew was reading in the Library when an older Ravenclaw found him.
"That's me. What is it?"
"Your roommate said you'd be in the Library. Professor McGonagall wants you to come to her office."
Andrew froze, then caught on.
"Oh. All right, thanks."
"No problem. I'm Barry Martin, a Sixth Year."
He looked at Andrew with a friendly expression. "Better hurry. Don't keep the professor waiting."
"Right. I'm going now."
Andrew practically stuffed his things into his bag. He jogged over to return his borrowed book to its place—Madam Pince gave him a sharp look, then let him off—and, once through the doorway, broke into a run.
Honestly, he hadn't expected Professor McGonagall to read what could barely be called a paper so soon.
"This is it."
He stopped, caught his breath, and knocked on the office door.
"Come in."
Professor McGonagall's voice came from inside. Only when Andrew entered did he discover he wasn't the only visitor.
Two red-haired students who looked almost identical sat at a table nearby, copying down something or other with deliberately solemn expressions.
"Never mind them, Taylor."
Professor McGonagall sounded much more relaxed than she had in class. "Let's look at your paper."
"Here, this theory isn't rigorous. When Transfiguration produces a living creature, you're dealing with an entirely different concept..."
"And here, making a transformation too precise leaves the transformed object more vulnerable to forces that can undo the Transfiguration..."
Professor McGonagall had clearly read Andrew's paper carefully.
"Overall, it's not bad. You could also try these three books. The relevant sections are..."
As the Quill wrote on its own, a new reading list took shape. "Of course, don't neglect practice. Its results may not be as obvious as they are with Charms, but theoretical understanding can never replace the problems you discover through practice."
"I'll make sure to practice, Professor."
"Good. Off you go, then. Borrow the books from the Library," Professor McGonagall told Andrew kindly.
But as Andrew left the office and shut the door, he heard her merciless voice from inside.
"Weasley twins, if you hand in another pair of nearly identical apologies and tell me you just happened to have the same ideas... you can report to Mr. Filch."
The oppressive feeling from class swept over Andrew again, and he immediately quickened his pace.
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