Breeze's Transfiguration

Thank Merlin, the Slytherin common room had returned to normal, though no one wanted to stay there. The little snakes were all holed up in their dorms nursing their injuries.

After dinner, Breeze subconsciously cast a few deodorizing charms before returning to his dorm. Zabini seemed to be in a bad way, lying dazed on his bed, looking like he'd suffered a major blow.

Breeze didn't make a fuss, quickly washed up, and went to his desk to read. He was so engrossed that he didn't pay much attention to the sound behind him.

"It was you, wasn't it? Who else would hate us like this?"

It was Zabini's voice, but while Breeze was involved in this matter, he wasn't significantly so. Breeze couldn't take the blame.

"I wouldn't do such a thing," Breeze said without turning his head, continuing to read his Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration, the textbook needed for tomorrow's Transfiguration class.

Zabini said nothing more and turned back into his blankets. He also understood that Breeze didn't have the means to command Peeves, but seeing that Breeze wasn't being persecuted, he naturally took out his anger on him.

Rubbing his temples, Breeze put down his book, turned off his lamp, and got into his comfortable bed.

Breeze thought to himself: The Weasley twins are indeed a bit too bold and reckless...

The next morning was Transfiguration class, shared with Gryffindor. The little snakes had regained their composure, or at least they were forcing themselves not to lose to Gryffindor!

Sitting silently in the front row, Breeze had confidence in Professor McGonagall. After all, she looked very strict, definitely not a teaching incompetent like Quirrell. However, Breeze felt that Quirrell wasn't weak, as if he were hiding something.

The large turban wrapped around his head, according to him, was a gift from an African prince who thanked him for helping drive away a troublesome zombie. The garlic smell was to ward off vampires.

Even Breeze, an 11-year-old, didn't believe it. He wondered how Dumbledore could be so naive.

"Thump!" The classroom door was pushed open!

"Phew, finally made it. Look, Harry, that old woman isn't here yet either," Ron Weasley said thankfully to Harry Potter, who then relaxed.

Because they were late.

Class had already started a few minutes ago, but Professor McGonagall had not yet appeared. However, Breeze knew that the tabby cat sitting on the podium was Professor McGonagall. This was a powerful transfiguration spell—Animagus—which could completely transform a person into an animal and could not be detected by magic.

Power also meant danger. This magic was very difficult to cast, requiring long preparation, and a slight mistake could lead to failure, turning one into a half-human, half-beast monster, or never being able to transform back. To this day, there were only seven registered Animagi in the Ministry of Magic, and Professor McGonagall was one of them.

At this moment, Malfoy, not far from Breeze, had a gloomy expression. It seemed the blow he suffered yesterday was too great, and he wasn't excitedly mocking today, only saying softly, "Yo, isn't this Mr. Potter and the poor Weasley? Did the famous Boy Who Lived get delayed signing autographs on the road?"

"Haha..." The Slytherin students beside him chuckled, but they all looked listless.

The Gryffindors, on the other hand, were angry and glared fiercely at the Slytherins, especially Malfoy. However, this was indeed Harry and Ron's problem. Thinking of the news they received yesterday, they were about to retort when...

The tabby cat on the lecture stand leaped up, landed on the ground, and transformed into McGonagall's appearance.

In an instant, the entire chaotic classroom fell silent.

"Oh, Merlin's socks!" Ron Weasley and Harry Potter swallowed hard, while McGonagall stared intently at them.

Ron Weasley said guiltily, "Hello, Professor McGonagall. We got lost. The stairs always send us to places we don't need to go."

What unlucky Ron Weasley.

Breeze looked at Ron Weasley with a smile in his eyes, hoping he would take care of himself. In any case, in McGonagall's eyes, Ron Weasley's name had been noted.

McGonagall could clearly accept such an explanation, but she would not forgive Ron for calling her an "old woman" just now. Gossiping about professors behind their backs was not good behavior, so she said, "I will not show favoritism to anyone, even if you are little wizards from my house. Therefore, Gryffindor loses 2 points. Now, you can return to your seats. I hope I don't have to find you a map to your seats. Perhaps I can turn you into maps."

McGonagall was wearing a green robe today, as stern and serious as ever.

Following McGonagall's words, Harry and Ron sat next to Breeze. Now, there were only some empty seats next to Breeze. However, being so close to Slytherins, Ron's expression wasn't very good. Harry, on the other hand, greeted Breeze, "I saw you at Diagon Alley..."

But before Harry could finish, he quickly took his seat. This was Professor McGonagall's class, and Breeze was a Slytherin! The house rivalry was already affecting Harry Potter. He didn't want to interact too much with Slytherins.

Breeze nodded slightly and began to listen to McGonagall's lecture.

"Transfiguration is the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts."

"Anyone who misbehaves in my class, I will ask them to leave and never let them in again. I have warned you."

McGonagall said with a stern face to everyone. Breeze watched as McGonagall transformed the lectern into a pig. This pig grunted as if it were real, and then McGonagall transformed it back.

"Wow!"

This transfiguration magic clearly piqued the interest of all the little wizards.

Breeze's eyes were also bright, wanting to delve deeper into this course. Compared to slimy slugs, he preferred the clean and decisive transfiguration. The feeling of doing as one pleased was captivating, but it was an illusion, as there always needed to be a constraint to guide the transformation.

Next, McGonagall wrote a long list of magical precautions and the dangers of failure and self-rescue on the blackboard. It was very complicated, indicating that transfiguration was not as straightforward as it seemed. The internal conditions were surprisingly numerous, which was why Breeze dared not try it rashly. Without a guide, learning this magic would be difficult and dangerous.

After Breeze finished taking notes, McGonagall began to expound on the finer points and the emotional drive, summarizing and telling everyone.

"Transfiguration is the power of imagination, but it is also built on the foundation of reality..."

After lecturing for more than half the class, McGonagall waved her wand and gave everyone a match.

"You need to turn this match into a silver needle."

All the little wizards began to work, but for now, no one could affect the state of the match. Transfiguration required talent and effort.

Breeze touched the wand in his hand, thought about the key points McGonagall had mentioned, and then carefully constructed the image of a silver needle in his mind. He then waved it at the match.

The match changed slowly but steadily. Breeze deliberately wanted to see the process of the match changing clearly, hoping it would help him in his future studies.

This was a key point hidden in the match exercise that many little wizards overlooked.

Harry, next to Breeze, quickly noticed the change on the table and looked at Breeze blankly, his face slightly red. He mumbled, "That's really amazing."

"What did you say, Harry? This match must be broken, right? Or is he deliberately defying me?" Ron waved his wand vigorously beside him, struggling, because Hermione, not far away, had already made the needle show some change, and Professor McGonagall was praising her.

"Try again, Miss Granger. I can see it changing."

With Professor McGonagall's encouragement, Hermione made the matchstick successfully sharper, and the blanket was covered with silver spots.

"Okay, that's great, I can give you +2 points."

Professor McGonagall smiled slightly, then saw Ron, who was about to wave his wand to pieces, frowned, and was about to say something when she heard a crisp "ding."

The matchstick on Breeze's desk had completely turned into a silver needle, and it jumped playfully before landing on the table with a crisp sound.

What a mischievous wand.

"Oh, this needs a closer look."

Professor McGonagall quickened her pace to Breeze's front, gently picked up the silver needle, and saw some subtle vine patterns at the tip of the needle, her smile uncontainable.

"Very good, you are the wizard with the most transformation talent I have ever seen." McGonagall looked at Breeze's wand but couldn't tell what material it was.

"It's Mithril and Green Vine Wood. Mr. Ollivander doesn't know its properties either."

McGonagall nodded, then said, "Plus 10 points for Mr. Order."

"Wow." The other little wizards exclaimed at McGonagall's bonus points.

McGonagall continued, "This is the highest score I can give a wizard in class. I hope it can happen again in future classes."

She maintained a serious expression, but her eyes were filled with joy. She then said to Breeze, "How did you think of changing its structure? It's hard for wizards to think of this. If I break this silver needle, you can see that the inside is also silver."

"You can't just look at the surface; this principle has helped me a lot since I was young." Breeze squinted and smiled. This was a one-time 10-point bonus, generous Professor McGonagall.

"Hmph." Pansy, not far away, snorted and placed her wand on the table, no longer foolishly waving it at the matchstick.

Now all the little snakes and little lions were paying attention to Breeze. Among them, Malfoy looked complicated. He looked at his matchstick, which only had some silver spots and had slightly deformed, and immediately hid it in his pocket, raising his head proudly and glancing at Breeze's black head.

Hermione, however, had a complicated expression. Her eyes were filled with excitement she couldn't imagine. She roared in her heart with unwillingness: It's like this again, Breeze has surpassed her again. No, I must not be working hard enough. Breeze must have been secretly studying behind my back. I need to refuse their invitations after class. What I need is the library, not idle chatter!

Ron looked at Breeze enviously and quietly put down his wand, muttering in a low voice:

"Just a Slytherin, a bad wizard anyway."

But his voice was inaudible even to himself, let alone others. Harry was also a little unhappy. The initial enthusiasm of the semester was gradually fading. There was also various pressure here, especially the hat of the Savior. But he just wanted to be an ordinary person, and his talent might not be good. He had also worked hard, but with little effect.

What Harry didn't know was that the source of his failure was a lack of faith. Magic is a product of faith. If he couldn't figure this out, he would never become a powerful wizard in his life, even if his parents were not bad.