Ron regretted it deeply.
Though the other students had already resumed practicing Transfiguration with normal expressions, his heart was still in turmoil over his inappropriate remark just now.
Surpass Damon? Merlin's beard! How had his brain allowed him to say something like that? There was a whole fourth-year Slytherin between him and Damon!
Even if Damon did nothing from this moment onward, it would still take Ron at least four years to catch up to his dueling ability.
Fortunately, what made Ron feel a little better was that Damon had not shown any displeasure over his inappropriate remark.
In fact, Damon truly did not consider it important.
After all, that was simply Ron's personality.
Sometimes, perfectly ordinary things became somewhat unpleasant when they came out of his mouth.
Because of his family circumstances, this guy was somewhat sensitive and conflicted—he always habitually put others down to avoid confronting his own embarrassment.
It was difficult for people to honestly accept their own shortcomings at first, and Ron, an ordinary person possessed of only courage, was no exception.
He could sacrifice himself for the greater good during the trial at the end of the first term, yet later complain endlessly to Harry under the Horcrux's influence after long, fruitless efforts.
He could fly into a rage out of embarrassment at Hermione's guidance, yet secretly nurture a longing for her in his heart.
However, in his interactions with Damon, Ron had not yet revealed this problem—or rather, he never would.
With people like this, being only a little better than them was not enough to convince them.
But if you crushed them completely in multiple ways with an almost inhuman level of superiority, they would instead blame everything on themselves.
Just like now: Damon had merely ignored the latter half of his question and glanced at him lightly, yet Ron already sincerely felt that he had said something wrong.
A little farther away, Hermione also noticed the commotion, but she merely gave a soft huff, turned away, and continued wrestling with her own matchstick.
By the end of class, Ron and Neville had both transformed their matchsticks to show a slight silvery sheen, but they were still far from becoming silver needles.
Even so, this was already an excellent result—apart from their group, Hermione was the only person in the entire classroom who had successfully turned her matchstick silver, and its tip was faintly pointed.
As for Harry, under Damon's guidance, he had successfully produced a needle. Though it was not perfect, everyone could tell that it was indeed a silver needle.
The satisfied expression on Professor McGonagall's face showed that they had done quite well.
Professor McGonagall even praised them outright.
"Even among all the students I have taught, you belong to the more outstanding group."
This assessment made the young wizards blush with excitement.
But amid Hermione's happiness, when she thought of the perfect silver needle Damon had transformed earlier, her smile gradually faded.
When class ended, Hermione took the lead in leaving the classroom.
Harry watched her departing back with a trace of regret on his face. They had forged a "great friendship" on the train, so why did Hermione always have to compete with Damon?
Ron, meanwhile, was quietly complaining about Professor McGonagall's outrageous behavior—she had assigned a full two-foot-long Transfiguration essay, longer than the combined assignments from the other two professors.
But halfway through, he could not continue—Professor McGonagall had already arrived in front of Damon.
Harry and the others immediately realized that what had happened in Charms Class was probably about to happen again.
"Do you have time, Damon? I would like to speak with you."
"Of course, Professor."
Damon bade farewell to his roommates and followed Professor McGonagall all the way to her office.
It was a small study beside the second-floor corridor, with a brightly burning fireplace. Through the window, they could see the Quidditch pitch, and a hidden door led to a bedroom with a pebble-covered floor.
After they sat down, Professor McGonagall brought out biscuits and gave him a cup of lemon black tea.
Watching Damon use the Levitation Charm to eat biscuits without touching them with his hands, Professor McGonagall felt her thoughts grind to a halt—was this some new way of having afternoon tea?
After a pause, she carefully chose her words.
"Damon, from the first moment I saw you, I knew that you possessed a certain talent for Transfiguration.
"I think it would be a tremendous loss if that talent failed to fully develop simply because it did not receive proper guidance."
"If you are willing, I would like to assign you extra Transfiguration work after every class to help you study it more effectively.
"After all, if I teach you at the same pace as the other young wizards, I fear that most of the lessons will be a waste of your time. What do you think?"
Professor McGonagall carefully observed Damon's expression. She had already decided that if Damon showed even the slightest resistance, she would immediately offer an alternative—give him special privileges and exempt him from completing the same Transfiguration assignments as the other students.
"Of course I am willing, Professor McGonagall."
Almost the moment Professor McGonagall finished speaking, Damon gave her an affirmative reply, lifting her spirits even further. As expected of the child she thought highly of—he truly would not disappoint her.
"However, I would like to ask you to help me solve a small problem, Professor."
"Go ahead." McGonagall adjusted her glasses, her attitude serious, as if she would do her best to fulfill whatever small request Damon made.
But she held that attitude because she believed Damon was someone who knew his limits—he would never make a request that put her in a difficult position.
And reality was indeed just as Professor McGonagall had imagined.
"I would like to subscribe to Transfiguration Today, but I could not find any way to do so."
At Damon's request, obvious delight appeared on Professor McGonagall's face.
"School has only been in session for a week, and you already know about the Transfiguration journal? Did you see it in the library?"
The last trace of concern in McGonagall's heart vanished.
It seemed that even without her invitation, Damon would continue down the path of Transfiguration—did that not prove that her invitation had been the right decision?
"It is normal that you could not find a subscription method, because it is an academic journal focused on the latest developments in Transfiguration.
"The content it publishes is far too profound for lower-year young wizards—because of this, and to avoid being bothered by useless information, the journal is only available to those who have achieved a certain level of accomplishment or shown talent in Transfiguration.
"For adult wizards, this is no secret—you only need their subscription address and an Owl to send them a letter. From then on, you can maintain a subscription."
Professor McGonagall handed Damon a slip of paper with the address on it. "Returning to our earlier topic, since you have accepted my proposal, I will begin assigning you extra work from today onward."
"I will be blunt: since you are doing this, you must carry it through properly. If I find that your attitude is not serious, or that you cannot meet my academic requirements, then I will decisively end this arrangement and never continue it."
"Understood, Professor McGonagall." Damon accepted solemnly.
Though he already had Professor Flitwick's extra assignments, adding Transfiguration was still within what he could handle. He believed he could manage it.
As for whether there would be even more later—he would deal with that once there was more.
Before you continue