The Wisdom Game of Transfiguration

Hogwarts classes began promptly on the second morning. An owl delivered the timetable, the ink on the parchment still damp, exuding a faint magical aura. For the first-year Slytherins, Wednesday morning's first lesson was Transfiguration, taught by Professor Albus Dumbledore.

When Tom and Ares walked into the Transfiguration classroom with the flow of students, a special atmosphere already filled the room. It wasn't as bright and orderly as the Charms classroom, nor as cold and damp as the Potions classroom. It was spacious, with large windows, but the light seemed softened by some force, and fine, stardust-like golden magical particles floated in the air. Behind the lectern, a tapestry of constantly shifting geometric patterns hung on the wall.

Professor Dumbledore was already standing behind the lectern. Today he wore a deep blue robe embroidered with silver moons and stars. His blue eyes behind the half-moon spectacles calmly swept over the entering students, lacking the profound scrutiny from the night before in the Great Hall, more like a gentle scholar.

However, Ares could clearly feel that when he and Tom entered the classroom, Dumbledore's gaze lingered on them for an extremely brief moment—a sensation like the lightest feather brushing past, yet carrying the weight of all-seeing insight.

Tom clearly sensed it too. He straightened his back, wore a perfect expression of earnest desire for knowledge, and chose a seat in the middle-front of the room. Ares sat beside him.

"Good morning," Dumbledore's voice echoed through the classroom, not loud, but somehow silencing all whispers. "Welcome to Transfiguration. Transfiguration is among the most complex and most dangerous branches of magic you will study at Hogwarts. Anyone who misbehaves in my class will be asked to leave and may never return. Therefore, I advise each of you to listen carefully and practice diligently."

His tone remained gentle, but the weight of his words made all the first-years unconsciously sit up straighter. A flash of excitement glimmered in Tom's eyes—danger and complexity suited him perfectly.

Dumbledore didn't open a textbook but began teaching directly. He first explained the basic principles of Transfiguration—the five exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration—using clear and charismatic language to paint the dry theory as keys to exploring the universe's mysteries. He even wove in a few amusing stories about failed Transfiguration attempts, drawing suppressed laughter from the classroom, and even the most nervous Hufflepuff students relaxed.

But Ares noticed that Dumbledore's gaze, like a precise radar, swept over every student's face, observing their comprehension and reactions.

After the theoretical explanation came the practical session. Today's task was to turn a matchstick into a needle.

"Clearly pronounce the incantation 'Vera Verto,' and at the same time, form an extremely clear image in your mind of the target object—the needle's shape, texture, and luster. Will is the key to successful Transfiguration." Dumbledore demonstrated. The matchstick in his hand, with a light tap of his wand, instantly elongated, brightened, and became a silver needle gleaming with metallic coldness—a smooth, perfect process.

The students began to try. The room immediately filled with uneven incantations and wand movements. The results were mostly unsatisfactory. Some matchsticks just smoked, others turned into twisted, half-wood, half-metal monstrosities. Billius Black's matchstick even caught fire, which he frantically put out.

Tom was one of the few who immediately showed talent. He concentrated, his lips moving slightly, his wand tapping precisely—the matchstick before him twisted, one end becoming sharp. Though still wooden overall and unchanged in color, it had already taken the rough shape of a needle. Among the first-years with no progress or who caused chaos, this stood out.

Several nearby Slytherins cast admiring glances his way, and Abraxas gave a slight nod. Tom maintained a humble expression, but the pride in his eyes nearly overflowed.

Dumbledore walked over, looked at Tom's "half-finished product," and smiled. "A good start, Mr. Riddell. Your will is focused, and your shape conception is basically correct. But you need firmer conviction in material transformation. Try again."

Receiving Dumbledore's affirmation, Tom's spirits lifted even more. He waved his wand again, and this time, the metallic luster of the "needle" was more pronounced.

Then Dumbledore's steps stopped at Ares's desk.

The matchstick in front of Ares... seemed completely unchanged.

Tom frowned almost imperceptibly. With Ares's ability, it shouldn't be like this.

Dumbledore looked at the motionless matchstick, then at Ares and his wand with its spiral texture of deep gray and pale gold, and asked gently, "Having trouble, Mr. Phoenix?"

Ares looked up, his Heterochromatic Eyes filled with contemplation, not frustration. "Professor," he asked softly, his voice clear in the relatively quiet classroom, "I was wondering... Gamp's Law says we can't conjure delicious food out of nothing. So, what if we only change the 'perception'? For example, making this matchstick look and feel exactly like a needle to the eyes and touch, even making someone who touches it 'believe' it's a needle, but its essence remains unchanged? Would that count as successful Transfiguration, or some kind of advanced illusion? Where is the boundary between the two?"

This question went beyond the textbook, even carrying a hint of philosophical speculation. It didn't question Transfiguration itself but explored its essence and limits.

The classroom instantly fell silent. Even the students struggling with their matchsticks stopped, staring at Ares in surprise. Tom's pupils contracted slightly. He hadn't expected Ares to raise such a... peculiar and profound question at this moment.

The blue eyes behind Dumbledore's half-moon spectacles suddenly lit up, like blue flames ignited. He didn't answer immediately but studied Ares with keen interest, as if looking at a shell that had suddenly revealed a strange pattern.

"A very... interesting question, Mr. Phoenix." Dumbledore's tone carried undisguised appreciation and deeper inquiry. "This touches on the blurred boundary between Transfiguration, illusion, and even the Confundus Charm. Strictly speaking, changing only perception while the essence remains unchanged is closer to advanced illusion. But the highest realm of Transfiguration itself involves challenging and reshaping the understanding of a thing's 'essence.' Your angle of thought is very unique."

He didn't give a definitive answer but guided the direction of thought. "Perhaps in future studies, you can explore and verify this boundary yourself. But for now," he smiled slightly, tapping the matchstick in front of Ares with his wand, "let's first focus on the most basic transformation of material form. Clear will, Mr. Phoenix. Believe it is a needle, not just that it looks like one."

As his words fell, the matchstick before Ares silently and smoothly transformed into a perfect, gleaming silver needle, indistinguishable from the one Dumbledore had conjured earlier.

Ares knew Dumbledore had personally helped him complete it, more as a demonstration and encouragement.

"Thank you, Professor," Ares said.

Dumbledore nodded, his gaze lingering on Ares's face for a moment, especially on the golden chain pattern under his left eye, before turning to walk toward other students.

The lesson continued, but the atmosphere had subtly shifted. Many students, including Slytherins and Ravenclaws, couldn't help sneaking glances at Ares. Tom's success was solid and dazzling, but the question Ares raised after his apparent "failure" revealed a different, unfathomable kind of wisdom.

Tom silently continued practicing, making his "needle" more and more realistic, but his peripheral vision always stayed on Ares. Ares didn't try again, just looked at the silver needle Dumbledore had conjured, lost in thought.

When the bell rang, Dumbledore assigned reading homework and again emphasized the importance of will.

The students packed up and left the classroom. Tom and Ares walked side by side down the corridor.

"That question of yours," Tom suddenly spoke, his voice low, "was it intentional?"

Ares glanced at him and replied calmly, "It just came to mind, so I asked."

Tom was silent for a few seconds before saying, "Dumbledore appreciates you." His tone was unreadable, but Ares could sense a hint of tension beneath it. He didn't like anything that might threaten his status as "the best," even if that something was Ares.

"He appreciates the question, not me," Ares corrected. "Besides, the way he looks at me is different from the way he looks at you."

Tom's steps faltered slightly, recalling Dumbledore's unusual gaze at Ares during the Sorting the night before. He pressed his lips together and said nothing more.

The first Transfiguration lesson was over. Tom gained recognition through talent, while Ares, with a single question, left a deeper impression on Dumbledore—and in the minds of some observant individuals. This game of wits had only just begun. And what they didn't know was that outside the classroom door, Professor Filida Spore, who had just finished her own Charms lesson, happened to overhear Ares's question about the boundary between Transfiguration and illusion. A flicker of surprise crossed her sharp eyes, followed by a brief moment of contemplation.