The Professor's Invitation

Professor McGonagall brought Vaughn to her office.

It was on the Second Floor, with a view of the Quidditch Pitch Outside the Window. It was a small privilege of being Deputy Headmistress, indulging her love of Quidditch.

Back in her office, Professor McGonagall did not seem quite so stern. She even offered Vaughn a biscuit before asking:

"Mr. Weasley, it was difficult to ask in detail during class. I assume you practiced Transfiguration privately at home, correct?"

"Yes, Professor. Using my brothers' textbooks."

"I believe I repeatedly stressed to your brothers how dangerous it was." Professor McGonagall pressed her lips together.

Vaughn nodded. "That is why I only tried transforming objects, Professor. I started with small things, just as Percy wrote in his notes—beginning with simple transformations before attempting more complicated ones... These are some of my notes."

He took out the copy of A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration filled with notes and handed it to Professor McGonagall.

Professor McGonagall flipped through it first. "A new book? You reviewed it again before school started?"

"Yes, Professor."

Professor McGonagall said nothing more, studying it intently. Only after a long while did she close the book and reveal a faint, gratified smile. "I see, Mr. Weasley. You came very well prepared, and your records of every transformation are also very detailed."

She did not show her surprise, merely sighing inwardly.

At first, Professor McGonagall had assumed Vaughn had only dabbled in it, or that his brothers had tutored him enough to give him a slight foundation.

But after reading his notes, she realized that Vaughn's grasp of Transfiguration had already reached an advanced level. The proof lay on the final page of the textbook:

"...Today, I successfully transformed Guoguo Tea's dried fish into a mouse. For a moment, I thought I had created life, but clearly I had not. The mouse's behavior had already been programmed by me. It was merely a puppet that looked like a mouse. It lacked the liveliness that belonged to life, but this goes beyond the knowledge I currently possess. How does more advanced Transfiguration solve this problem?"

"Spells require corresponding emotions. Could Transfiguration also be unable to do without that step? Transforming dead objects into living creatures, or changing one life-form into another—perhaps the answer lies in the thoughts and emotions of the target of the transformation? Or perhaps memories?"

It had to be said that Professor McGonagall was deeply moved when she read those words.

Not because of Vaughn's progress in Transfiguration, but because of his thoughts and conjectures about it!

Such a genius... why did he have to be in Slytherin?

After hesitating for a moment, Professor McGonagall, who had upheld fairness and impartiality her entire life as Deputy Headmistress, finally said stiffly, "Mr. Weasley, you know that not every student's progress is the same. Some students are simply more... talented..."

She had never liked ranking students into different tiers, but that was reality.

She continued, "For students who progress more quickly, Headmaster Dumbledore encourages professors of every subject to establish clubs for more targeted instruction..."

"Mr. Weasley, would you be willing to join my Transfiguration Club?"

Her face grew a little warm, and she felt as though she were secretly poaching someone else's student.

Yet she still looked at Vaughn expectantly.

Professors had the right to extend invitations, and those invited naturally had the right to refuse.

Under her earnest gaze, Vaughn smiled.

"It would be an honor, Professor McGonagall."

"So, you joined the Transfiguration Club?"

In the Great Hall, at the Gryffindor table, Hermione cried out in surprise.

"Of course. Professor McGonagall said my level was sufficient. The current classes cannot teach me much more, and the other club members are at least fourth-years. That is where I can keep learning, rather than wasting time in class."

Vaughn ate as he filled out a Form—the club application.

Hermione stared at it, her eyes nearly shining. She asked hesitantly, "If—I'm saying if—I can perfectly turn a Match into a Needle like you did today, would I have a chance too?"

"Not necessarily." Vaughn thought for a moment. "But when the time comes, you can ask Professor McGonagall and give it a try."

The moment he finished speaking, Hermione hurriedly grabbed two pieces of bread and dashed toward the library like a gust of wind.

Clearly, she had found new motivation to strive for!

Sitting beside them, Harry and Ron, who had been eavesdropping the entire time, exchanged looks. These two had already begun to show their Academic Underling nature.

Everything at Hogwarts was full of novelty to them.

Study? Wasn't running around and having fun much better?

They could not really understand Hermione's envy or her ambitions.

Nor did they think Vaughn joining some club and attending a few extra classes was anything worth celebrating.

Ron, at least, was more preoccupied with the Serpent Shield Badge on Vaughn's chest.

Seeing Vaughn still sitting at the Gryffindor table—and even stealing a piece of his roast—he finally could not resist snapping, "Why aren't you sitting at the Slytherin table? Why are you here stealing our food? You think Harry is easy to bully, don't you?"

Harry: "?"

He really did not understand the Weasleys...

Vaughn said nothing. He slowly finished the roast, then pulled a small pouch from his schoolbag and opened it.

Inside was a brand-new, complete Wand Care Kit!

Ron's eyes went wide. Harry could almost hear him swallowing.

This routine was far too familiar!

Ron's face flushed red. He was both eager and furious, desperately wanting to snatch up the pouch and hurl it straight into Vaughn's detestable face.

But years of being oppressed, along with the care kit's steep price, left him without the courage to do so.

Based on his past experience, Vaughn, this devil, would surely use his desire to tempt him into lowering his head again.

He decided that no matter what happened today, he would not yield. This was a Gryffindor's conviction when facing a Slytherin!

Then he felt a hand pat his head.

"Take it, Ron. Charms Class is this afternoon, and you'll need it... Study hard, and stop fooling around!"

When Ron looked up again, Vaughn had already gone far away. Only the open little pouch remained on the seat.

Ron watched his retreating figure grow more distant until it finally vanished around the corner.

Watching it all, Harry suddenly saw Ron's eyes redden. This somewhat carefree companion of his sniffled like a primary school student, tears streaming down his face. He reached out, grabbed the care kit to his chest, and hugged it tightly.

In a choked voice, he asked, "Harry, not all Slytherins are bad people, right?"

Harry suddenly understood. Ron had been worried all along that his brother might have changed; he simply did not know how to express it.

Gently patting his shoulder, Harry nodded firmly. "Yeah!"

Elsewhere.

As Vaughn headed toward the Slytherin Common Room, he happily hummed a tune.

Who said he only had one routine?