Hoffa's Talent

After being mocked by her, Hoffa's expression darkened. He picked up his wand and lightly tapped the small wooden block before him, picturing a wooden sword.

Magic flowed from his wand. Hoffa controlled it with his mind and poured it into the wood. At once, he felt something strange, as if he had grabbed a lump of clay out of thin air.

Under the effects of magic, the wood seemed to become incredibly malleable.

So that's it—the purpose and the structure?

Understanding dawned on Hoffa. He closed his eyes and pictured a gleaming, razor-sharp blade.

Under Hoffa's mental control, the wood began to stretch, stretch, then flatten.

During the transformation, Hoffa frowned.

No. The details aren't enough. A blade alone can't be called a sword.

So he began carefully considering the shape of the hilt and the guard.

Above the table, the little wooden sword became increasingly lifelike. At first it was merely a rough blank, but slowly, even the patterns on the hilt were carved out.

Miranda murmured a quiet word of admiration, while Argeleia muttered disdainfully, "Not completely useless..."

Once the carving was complete, Hoffa opened his eyes. Looking at the little sword before him, he did not seem particularly pleased.

Miranda exclaimed, "You actually did it!"

Hoffa shook his head and closed his eyes again. He still felt that something was wrong.

He wanted to become an Animagus, after all. Simply turning wood into a wooden sword was nowhere near enough!

Think about it—how was this any different from molding a rubber sword out of clay? The wooden sword was still wood by nature. It had not changed in the slightest. There was nothing magical or wondrous about it.

Essence. Change. Purpose.

The key words Dumbledore had mentioned kept circling through Hoffa's mind.

No. A sword should be made of iron. Its purpose should be killing, while a wooden sword can only be a toy.

Hoffa concentrated and immersed his entire mind in the wooden sword before him, trying to sense more details.

But it did not work. His mind could sense every fiber in the wood, yet he still could not sense the essence of the wood itself, much less change it.

Is my mental strength not enough?

Hoffa's brows drew together. Then, suddenly, he thought of Milarepa Walker's Meditation Method. Meditation could improve mental strength.

Hoffa opened his eyes and glanced around. Everyone nearby was struggling to reshape their pieces of wood. No one cared about him in the corner.

He emptied his mind, closed his eyes, and entered a meditative state.

At that moment, under the effects of meditation, his mental strength expanded several times over. If he wished, he could perceive the entire classroom without using his eyes.

But Hoffa did not. He poured all his focus into the wooden sword, seeking the essence of the wood.

His powerful mind spread like a web, seeping strand by strand into the wooden sword. His mind, carrying magic with it, passed through the fibers, through the cells, through the nuclei, until it reached the essence of organic matter.

It was as though a thunderous boom exploded in his mind.

The black-and-white world suddenly burst into color. It was as if he had entered another dimension. Countless tiny particles spun and changed around him, while endless colors mixed and scattered before his eyes.

Magic carried Hoffa racing through an utterly unknown world. A new world belonging to Transfiguration opened before him. He felt joy. He felt a power that was almost enough to control everything!

Yes, this is it!

In the real world, the wooden sword before Hoffa suddenly burst into powder and completely dispersed into the air.

Miranda's expression turned slightly grave.

Argeleia wore a smug smile. That idiot. He made the sword disappear outright!

In the classroom, Dumbledore, who had been correcting students' mistakes at the front, suddenly turned toward the corner.

A powerful mental force had suddenly appeared in the classroom!

Tom Riddle, on the other side of the room, frowned. He sensed something.

Dumbledore set aside what he was doing and strode toward the corner. Everyone's gaze followed him.

When he reached the corner, Dumbledore saw Hoffa with his eyes tightly shut.

The next second, Hoffa raised his wand.

Threads of crystalline metallic light appeared in the air.

Before everyone's astonished eyes.

The metallic light rapidly arranged and combined, forming a blade, a guard, and a hilt.

Dumbledore's blue eyes widened abruptly.

The cold gleam of the blade made it clear that this was a metal sword, not a wooden one.

Miranda opened her mouth in disbelief.

Argeleia's face went pale, and she suddenly pushed herself up from the table.

The surrounding students all turned to watch this miraculous sight unfold.

They had no idea what was happening. All they saw was a metal sword appearing out of thin air.

But Dumbledore knew. The boy before him had actually changed the essence of an object!

Once the transformation was complete, Hoffa opened his eyes, his face pale but his gaze brimming with delight. He grabbed the sharp little sword before him.

He had done it! He had used Transfiguration to change the essence of an object. This was magic!

Dumbledore began clapping sincerely. Soon, the surrounding students joined him. They did not know why, but they could tell it was incredible.

Tom Marvolo stood up and stared at the Ravenclaw table with furrowed brows, murmuring in disbelief, "Hoffa...!?"

Hoffa, immersed in the joy of completing the transformation, was startled by the applause. Looking up, he saw that people had gathered around him at some point. Every one of them was clapping in shock.

What's going on? Wasn't that just basic procedure?

Without another word, Dumbledore pulled Hoffa to his feet, looking at him as though he were a priceless treasure. Then he took the little sword Hoffa had made, held it high, and said admiringly:

"Task completed beyond expectations, beyond expectations, Hoffa! Look! I have never seen a first-year student accomplish this. Outstanding! The last person who could transform things like this was Nicolas Flamel over five hundred years ago. Fifty points to Ravenclaw."

He was so delighted that he had no interest in examining anyone else's work closely.

This infuriated Argeleia. The moment class ended, she stormed out and threw her wooden tree sculpture into the trash.

After class, Hoffa also wanted to leave, but Dumbledore called out to him.

"Wait, Hoffa."

Hoffa stopped as the crowd passed by him. The Ravenclaw students excitedly patted him on the shoulder and offered encouraging words, but Hoffa saw Tom Riddle pass him with a gloomy face. As they brushed shoulders, Hoffa heard a nearly inaudible whisper.

"Really impressive, Hoffa."

After everyone had left the classroom, Dumbledore pointed to the desk in front of him. Hoffa sat down, confused.

Dumbledore smiled at the earring on Hoffa's ear. "It seems you get along well with goblins."

Thinking of Yinduo, Hoffa could only scratch his head. "Not bad, I suppose. I just can't take it off."

"Why take it off? It is a gift from a friend."

As he spoke, Dumbledore pulled over a stool and sat down as well. He interlaced his fingers, and his expression grew serious.

"Do you know that what you just did was very dangerous?"

Hoffa's heart skipped a beat. He did not understand.

Dumbledore handed the sword back to Hoffa and said sternly, "Can you turn it back?"

Hoffa stared at the wooden sword and sensed it for a while. His face immediately went pale. He understood why Dumbledore had kept him behind. He understood the structure of metal atoms, but not the structure of trees. He could not change it back at all.

Dumbledore folded his arms and said softly, "Caution, Hoffa. Caution. I have seen too many talented but careless Transfiguration masters.

"You possess exceptionally strong mental talent, but remember this: change the structure of things, not their essence. The ecstasy and impulse brought by transformation can easily cause someone to lose themselves.

"In my view, you just completed an irreversible transformation. If the thing you had transformed was not a piece of wood, but yourself, then you would already have been completely lost."

Hoffa looked into Dumbledore's sharp blue eyes and did not know what to say for a moment.

Dumbledore straightened up and tapped the metal sword with his wand.

The metal sword slowly transformed back into a small wooden block.

"Remember, a true Transfiguration master must not only know how to turn stone into gold, but also how to turn gold into stone."

Dumbledore's words left Hoffa shaken for a long time. Even when he walked out of the classroom, his back was covered in cold sweat.

Indeed, at the moment he completed the transformation, he had nearly been overwhelmed by joy. For that moment, he had even felt that becoming an Animagus was within reach.

But now it seemed that he still had a very long road ahead in Transfiguration.

The other students did not know about Dumbledore's warning to Hoffa. They were all discussing how Ravenclaw had produced a student skilled in Transfiguration. The Ravenclaw students regarded Hoffa as a hero. Although Professor Gorshak had deducted seventy points from them, Dumbledore had awarded fifty points. After offsetting one against the other, the loss was almost made up for.

But unlike the other students, Argeleia became increasingly hostile toward Hoffa.

No matter when it was, she gave Hoffa nothing but a sour face.

During Herbology on Tuesday, she deliberately switched the fungal plant Hoffa was tending with a pot of man-eating flowers, hoping to watch him make a fool of himself. Fortunately, Hufflepuff's Head of House, Heblao Billey, warned him in time. Otherwise, that terrifying plant might have torn off his nose.

During Astronomy on Wednesday, she publicly mocked Hoffa again because he had confused Ganymede with Europa.

Hoffa felt that the girl had probably never suffered any setbacks while growing up, only to suddenly encounter one now. That was why she bore such a grudge against him. But the more she acted like that, the less Hoffa paid attention to her. He simply treated her as a clown.

He attended classes in the daytime, then meditated in the evening breeze of the common room at night.

Whenever he had spare time, he went to the library to search for information about the Disillusionment Charm.

Unfortunately, the areas of the library open to lower-year students were extremely limited. Those places contained only books on basic theory and no books with actual spells.

Without a way to become invisible, he could not freely explore Hogwarts.

But Hoffa was not in a hurry. He had plenty of time. If Argeleia had not kept bothering him for no reason, he would have felt that life at Hogwarts was practically perfect.

This peace lasted until Thursday.

There was a Flying lesson on Thursday.

My collection count is stuck in the nineties and it's driving me crazy. Friends with big hearts, please help me out and click that favorite button!!