A Century-Defining Breakthrough

Professor McGonagall held the match between her thumb and forefinger at both ends, her movements as gentle as if she were handling some precious treasure.

Snap.

The match broke in two, the wood grain inside clearly visible—no one could possibly imagine it had been transformed from a piece of paper.

Professor McGonagall's right hand trembled slightly as she cast the counter-curse on the match.

The broken match rapidly changed, reverting to its original form—a piece of paper now split down the middle.

"Good heavens. Damon, do you have any idea what you've actually accomplished?"

McGonagall stared blankly at Damon, who was still calmly eating his dessert, unable to understand how he could remain so composed—did this child not realize he had achieved something earth-shattering?

"You're going to change the entire wizarding world."

Her face showed some hesitation, but soon she rallied, picking up a piece of paper and thrusting it toward Damon:

"How did you achieve the essential transformation? Prove it to me!"

"If it's just a match, that's simple, Professor."

Damon drew his wand and said flatly:

"Microcosmic Incantation."

His sapphire-blue eyes glowed faintly as he spoke again to the paper McGonagall held:

"Magical Order."

And so, the paper in Professor McGonagall's hand began to shrink and transform, turning into a match in the blink of an eye.

A match—of extraordinary significance.

"And it's this easy?"

Professor McGonagall looked at the match in her hand, then at Damon with his glowing eyes, completely losing her usual composure. She asked dazedly:

"You're giving me this paper because you want to—"

"Oh—I plan to submit it to Transfiguration Today. Before publication, I wanted you to look it over and see if there are any errors or things I should add."

"Transfiguration Today?" Professor McGonagall paused, then said, "I'm afraid that won't do."

"Why not?"

"This is too earth-shattering. You'll ignite the entire wizarding world—I need to go see Dumbledore. I believe he can offer better advice. Can you wait a while, Damon?"

"Fine, but Professor, could you first add back my House points?"

"Sorry—what did you say?"

"House Cup points. Because of the Malfoy incident, you deducted a hundred and fifty from me, didn't you? I want you to restore them. If you could add a few extra, even better."

Professor McGonagall looked at Damon as if she were staring at a magical creature she had never seen before.

"Merlin's beard! Are you joking with me?" She was nearly frantic. "Do you have any idea you've invented a century-defining theory? From now on, all Transfiguration will revolve around your work, and here you are fussing over House Cup points?

Once your paper is published, they'll even name this theory White's Transfiguration Law. Your name will be recorded in textbooks. You'll be immortalized in A History of Magic. Do you understand the significance of this, child?"

McGonagall was truly agitated, speaking faster and more excitedly as she went. Seeing the slight smile curling at the corner of Damon's mouth, she felt he was teasing her, or perhaps that the child still didn't grasp the situation. In a rare display of urgency, she snapped:

"I'm done talking to you!"

With a wave of her hand, McGonagall hastily grabbed the paper and the match Damon had just transformed, rushing off to Dumbledore's office, leaving Damon alone with his tea and pastries.

"Why did she get so worked up?" Damon watched McGonagall's retreating figure, practically running, and chuckled lightly as he sipped his black tea. "Aren't you lot the ones who made the House Cup so important?"

He used the Levitation Charm to lift a macaron, tossing it from a height into his mouth.

Mm, sweet.

"Fizzing Whizbees!"

Professor McGonagall spoke the password. The stone statue leaped aside, the wall behind it split in two, and she eagerly stepped onto the moving stone staircase, arriving at the brightly lit door.

She didn't even bother with formalities, shouting from outside the door:

"Dumbledore, are you there?"

"Come in, Minerva."

Professor McGonagall pushed the door open and burst in. At that moment, Dumbledore was replying to letters from the Ministry of Magic.

"What's happened to make you so flustered?"

Dumbledore set down his quill and asked gently.

Thump.

Professor McGonagall practically slapped the paper onto the desk, her breath slightly rushed:

"You—look at this! It's written by Damon!"

"Oh? What has our Duelling Prince come up with now?"

Ever since the Malfoy incident, even Dumbledore had started calling him that.

A faint smile on his face, he picked up the paper McGonagall had pressed onto the desk—something that could astonish Minerva like this... could it be a rather novel Transfiguration hypothesis?

[On the Breakthrough Research of Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration, Second Law]

The moment he saw the title, the smile vanished from Dumbledore's face.

A faint scent of violet lingered in the air, warm and brilliant sunlight streamed through the transparent stained-glass window onto the desk, Phoenix Fawkes quietly preened his feathers, and the portraits in the headmaster's office remained motionless, silently awaiting Dumbledore's conclusion to decide whether they would praise or mock him afterward.

Phineas Black's sneer was already poised at the corner of his mouth, waiting only for Dumbledore's opening remark—"For a child, such a discovery is not bad."

Then he would speak, lecturing McGonagall that as Deputy Headmistress, she ought to be more composed.

But as time ticked by, Dumbledore's brow furrowed deeper and deeper.

He, too, had never imagined that on such an unremarkable day, under such bright sunlight, he would hear a thunderclap!

That was Dumbledore's thought at this moment.

Drinking tea, reading the paper, replying to official correspondence—and then suddenly struck by lightning.

Such an earth-shattering conjecture—no, this was no longer mere conjecture—this was a new theorem of Transfiguration that had already achieved success. Who could have imagined it would be proposed by a child still in their first year?

"Incredible... absolutely incredible..."

The first words out of Dumbledore's mouth left all the headmasters in the portraits dumbfounded.

He picked up the matchstick Damon had transfigured, and without even breaking it, he sensed that its internal structure had been altered by magical force. As he waved his wand, the matchstick reverted to paper.

Dumbledore suddenly grew curious.

He tore the paper, lifted it up, and examined its structure in the sunlight.

Under the light, the edges of the paper showed a faint layer of wood color—he had not mastered the reverse transfiguration to restore matter, so he could not return the paper to its original structure.

Dumbledore pondered for a moment, placed the torn paper on the desk, and murmured softly:

"Ordinatio Magica."

He narrowed his eyes, sensing a massive surge of magical power being drawn forth. The paper before him seemed to become a monster devouring magic, consuming about one percent of his total magical reserves cleanly.

Though there were many reasons for this—he had not yet fully mastered the spell, nor was he familiar with the principles of transfiguration; he was using the incantation Damon had created, combined with the theory from the paper, to forcibly achieve material transformation through sheer magical output.

But that did not change the fact that what he had transfigured was merely a piece of paper.

In other words, while this law was earth-shattering, it did not mean any random wizard could wield it well. In fact, most wizards could not—and precisely for this reason, this power needed to be guided!