Aftermath

"Studying hard is a good thing in Ravenclaw, but you're taking it a bit too far."

"Don't follow the example of those Hufflepuff students. They make a habit of eating in the kitchen."

"Madam Pince has a house-elf assigned to bring her meals, and she isn't the only person on duty..."

"Huh?"

Andrew had managed to look as though he'd taken the earlier advice to heart and would change his ways at once. But after that last remark, he couldn't keep up the act.

"Of course. This is the Hogwarts library, not Azkaban... Do you really think someone could watch students for over ten hours a day, weekends included, for an entire term?"

Put that way, it did sound absurd. Even Professor Binns didn't work that hard.

"But every time I go there, Madam Pince is there."

What?

How was that possible?

"As a proper Ravenclaw, you should have no trouble working that out," Hande said, spreading his hands. "And as a proper sixth-year student, I should tell you that magic can't solve the problem of food. Even the Cheering Charm, which comes closest to duplicating it, only produces liquid with a similar taste. Once the magic wears off, it even causes a little backlash for whoever drank it."

"So our librarian can't spend every waking hour watching the library without going to eat. That's basic magical knowledge for upper-year students."

"Very useful knowledge. Thank you." Andrew hesitated, then couldn't resist asking, "So if I conjured a pile of food and the magic stayed in effect while I ate it, what would happen?"

"If you're a wizard, you'll realize something's wrong soon enough. Then the spell will fade quickly, and you'll be hungrier than you were before you ate."

"If you're a wizard?"

"Of course," Hande said, as though it were obvious. "If you mean a Muggle, I'd advise you not even to think about it. That's a shortcut to Azkaban."

Azkaban was Rome now? You could end up there just for discussing it?

But there was no point debating this with the club's fanatics. To people set on joining the Ministry of Magic, Azkaban was the ultimate disgrace. Even an academic discussion was out of the question.

I'll ask Professor McGonagall later... and bring up that idea I had while casting the spell, too.

She wasn't his Head of House, but if Professor McGonagall was willing to answer, he could be shameless enough not to worry about anything else.

He tried to steer the conversation elsewhere. Before the two of them reached the common room, though, word spread through the Castle that the alarm had been lifted. Supposedly, a group of Gryffindors had done something daring, but no one had stepped forward to admit it.

"Now that the alarm's been lifted, you can go on your own."

Hande promptly left him behind. They weren't part of the same little circle, after all.

Andrew was happy with that. It was just a shame he couldn't go out to send his letter right now. With a Troll loose in the Castle, a trip to the Owlery would look far too much like the culprit tipping someone off. He was afraid a pack of Prefects eager to distinguish themselves would pin him down, and he'd spend the rest of the day hanging from the Astronomy Tower counting stars.

The next day, Andrew blended in with the other students and sent off a perfectly ordinary-looking bundle of manuscripts. After cheerfully contaminating the poor professor's knowledge base with another drawing, he made his way to Professor McGonagall's office in high spirits.

"Have a seat. Learned anything new from your spellcasting practice?"

"Yes, Professor."

Andrew answered brightly, "I even went to look at the results of what those upper-year students did."

There was no way to pretend he hadn't heard about the Troll. Since everyone was saying upper-year students had done it, Andrew was happy to let them take the blame.

"Those students broke the school rules quite seriously, but I have to say, they did a good job."

There was even a hint of a smile on Professor McGonagall's face, though it quickly vanished. "It looks like the third-years were responsible."

"Their coordination wasn't very smooth, but they used the terrain well," Andrew said without the slightest change in expression, as if he truly had nothing to do with it. "I'm nowhere near that good."

"It wasn't poor coordination. They underestimated the Troll. They thought it would be as docile as the creatures in Magical Creatures class. They fumbled both the timing of the trap and the Transfiguration they used to reinforce it afterward. The spells they cast in between were even less effective than they should have been."

She'd worked out that much?

She had already decided it was the third-years. Otherwise, shifting the blame would have been difficult... Of course, the more important reason was that nobody had been hurt. It counted as a disobedient prank, and Professor McGonagall had little desire to investigate further and deduct House Points from her own house.

"They could have done better," Professor McGonagall continued. She couldn't be bothered to investigate, but she could still grade their work. "With a clearer division of tasks, they could have had one person control an object to draw the Troll's attention while the others reinforced the trap with Transfiguration. That alone would have been enough to keep it contained."

"If they'd been older students, it would have been simpler still."

Professor McGonagall paused and looked at Andrew.

"They could have temporarily animated an object," Andrew said. "That would have given them time to set the trap with Transfiguration before the magic was broken, without having to focus on controlling the object to distract the Troll."

"Exactly. Which is why I'm sure this wasn't a group of fifth-years looking for a bit of fun after studying too hard."

Just as Andrew was about to ask his next question, a Snowy Owl flew in through the window and dropped a letter onto a nearby desk already piled high with mail.

"Ah, sorry, Professor. That's all I had. I've interrupted your work again."

"It's fine. I'm always glad when talented students want to explore Transfiguration further. If I didn't have to deal with supply orders and the like, I'd much rather spend my time teaching. Now, keep experimenting with Transfiguration, and remember what I told you: don't get into theories you don't understand."

"Yes, Professor. I'll remember."

"Good. And if you intend to study Transfiguration in depth, I'd like you to learn some Arithmancy. It will make it easier for you to understand the forms of plants and animals."

"Arithmancy? To get a better feel for numbers? So I can understand the proportions of plants and animals more directly?"

"All right. I know a little Muggle mathematics. I'll study the relevant material as soon as I can."

"Good. Now I have paperwork to deal with."

++++

Of course. Understanding an object's structure would help make a Transfiguration more realistic. Magic might blur the connection, but it still mattered.

And here I was, thinking only about putting a letter on Dumbledore's desk. I completely overlooked Professor McGonagall...

Once I work out how the school's supply system operates, I can easily forge a letter from a supplier to notify Professor McGonagall.

"He's good with numbers, and he's laid a decent foundation in Transfiguration. His other subjects aren't remarkable, but he hasn't fallen too far behind..."

"If he can handle figures well enough, he really could help with paperwork in the office as a work-study arrangement."