A Rather Impolite Meeting

When someone knocked on his door, Andrew was struggling through a book.

Teaching himself Latin without a suitable textbook was enough to make anyone weep, but it was necessary. Even a dead language could be useful.

"Coming," he said, capping his pen as he got up to open the door. He kept it locked as a matter of habit, and nobody objected.

"Good morning, Mrs. Camille." She stubbornly insisted that the students call her Mrs. Camille rather than Head of House. He looked at the two people outside and invited them in. "And this is?"

"This is Ms. McGonagall. She's here about enrolling you in their school. It's called Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts?"

"Yes, Hogwarts." Professor McGonagall nodded, then glanced at Mrs. Camille, who showed no sign of leaving. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Camille, but could I speak with him alone for a moment?"

In that pause, Andrew finally remembered what Hogwarts was.

A school of magic, specifically for wizards. He had even played a game called Hogwarts Legacy, and honestly, it had been pretty good.

Beyond that, he only knew the basic plot from quick recaps of the films. He had thought about reading the original books a few times, but never found the time. The story was too long, and compared with web novels, a good traditional story demanded far more time to immerse himself in it.

Once those thoughts clicked into place, Andrew took the chance to study Professor McGonagall while she was still talking to Mrs. Camille.

She doesn't look much like her, but the bearing is remarkably close...

So that power I called telekinesis is magic?

The good news is that I can learn magic from people who came before me, which makes it much less likely I'll go down the wrong path. The bad news is that my one-of-a-kind power is actually mass-produced.

None of that matters. I need to carry on as if I know nothing... because there's no possible way I could have heard of that school.

While he adjusted his frame of mind, Professor McGonagall persuaded Mrs. Camille to leave. Then she faced Andrew, drew her wand, and gave it a light flick.

The chair between them immediately turned into a goat. Under Andrew's gaze, it tugged a sheet of paper off the desk and began eating it at its leisure.

But the look of astonishment Professor McGonagall expected never came. After a moment's stunned hesitation, Andrew slapped the goat on the head and snatched back the half-written page.

"Your power is certainly impressive," Andrew said, sounding torn between laughter and tears, "but I don't think you needed to prove it with something I've spent half the day writing."

Fortunately, he had been writing about language study. If it had been any other manuscript, he would have put it away long ago instead of leaving it on the desk.

He shoved the page farther away and held down the remarkably docile goat with his other hand. "That's an incredible power. What is it? No, wait—what's it called, exactly? Telekinesis, a superpower, inner energy, magic, source energy, or something else?"

Before Professor McGonagall could answer, he looked at the goat and hurriedly added in a low, amazed voice, "I've read lots of books about fantastical powers. They all have different names for the unusual powers people wield, so I'm fairly open to the idea—especially since I have a power like that myself."

Talking nonstop like this when they had only just met was terribly rude. Listening and offering timely responses that did not interrupt—an "ah," a "right," or an "I see"—would do far more to keep a conversation going.

But he had to do it. He needed his stream of questions to buy himself enough time to steady his nerves.

"Ah, I'm sorry." Andrew kept up his act of flustered anticipation. "I got a little excited and asked far too many questions."

"That's quite all right. It's perfectly normal." Professor McGonagall nodded. "Hogwarts, the school you'll be attending, is a school of magic. You'll study magic there alongside many children your age."

"A school where I can learn magic?" Andrew let his excitement show without needing to fake it. "That's wonderful... But can I afford the tuition?"

"You won't need to. Hogwarts doesn't charge tuition."

The question took Professor McGonagall slightly by surprise, but only slightly.

"What about books, room and board, and uniforms?" Andrew asked with genuine concern, because he truly did not know. "I'm sorry, ma'am. Perhaps I'm asking too much, but I really might not be able to cover all the costs."

"And another thing, ma'am: where is the school? What country's currency does it use, and what's the exchange rate? Is it a boarding school? Is there a path to further education...?"

He was no longer pretending. These were sincere questions, and sincerity made the best disguise.

Perhaps this child could help out around the office...

Professor McGonagall felt no offense at all.

It was as though she were looking at an intern already working for the school—and an exceptionally good one.

Because Albus left so much unattended, she handled most of the school's administrative work. She badly needed help with that jumble of tasks, but students capable of doing it were usually in Fifth Year. She could hardly have them working in her office during their OWLs year.

By Sixth or Seventh Year, students began taking internships outside school. During her years at the Ministry of Magic, many departments had already made a habit of giving Seventh Year interns some of their work.

She had used plenty of interns in her office over the years, but just as they became familiar with the work, they would spend a little over a year there before leaving for an outside internship or graduating. Even if they occasionally stayed at the school, they became professors. She could not keep them doing odd jobs in her office forever.

An intern who could start helping with office work from First Year, who came well recommended by his elders, who was meticulous and thoughtful, and who needed an assistant's stipend...

So she happily answered the questions Andrew had just asked.

Then, to her surprise, he had even more.

"That's wonderful... But Professor, there are some things I'd really like to know about the magic you just used. That goat—did the entire chair turn into a goat? Is the transformation permanent, temporary, or conditional? If one of its limbs were severed during the transformation, would it revert to its original form, or would only part of it change back?"

"I could feel its warmth and its blood flowing. Does the magic simulate a goat completely, or are those things fixed in place once it transforms? If it started moving, would its heart rate and blood flow change?"

"And when the transformation is undone, where does the food it ate go? Does it end up inside the chair, fall to the floor, or simply disappear?"

Forget about making him an assistant...

Even as one of the two best Transfiguration professors in all England, she could not help thinking that after hearing his barrage of questions.

"You need to learn the basics of Transfiguration and read enough theoretical texts before you can start considering those questions."

"In magic, the greatest danger isn't a lack of imagination. It's probing the unknown far beyond what you've mastered. Transfiguration has caused more tragedies than any other branch of magical study."

"Come. I'll take you to Diagon Alley, and we can discuss your questions on the way. There are a great many of them, but I'll do my best to explain them in terms you can understand. There is one thing above all that you must remember, though."

Professor McGonagall's expression turned grave.

"When studying magic, experimenting with anything you don't understand is extremely dangerous. Nothing in magic can be taken for granted, and venturing into too many unknowns at once is something you must never do."