Draco looked down and her cheeks instantly flushed bright red, even the tips of her ears turning pink. She quickly pulled her robe tighter around herself, glared at Herman, and gritted her teeth, "Turn around!"
Herman immediately turned to face the wall, silently adding a point to his evaluation of this morning. It was much more lively than he had imagined. At the same time, he thought that the Malfoy family must eat very well, Draco must have drunk a lot of milk.
He stood with his back to the door for about three minutes, when he heard a series of clanging sounds, Draco's low mutterings, and her rapid breathing as buttons were repeatedly fastened and unfastened.
Harry leaned against the wall across the hallway, arms crossed, watching the scene with great interest, a faint smile playing on her lips.
"Alright."
Draco finally came out of the room, having changed out of her bathrobe into her school uniform, dressed neatly. Her blonde hair was also quickly combed and tied into a neat ponytail. She looked completely refreshed, showing no signs of the chaos that had just occurred a moment before.
A faint blush still lingered on her cheeks. Avoiding Herman's gaze, she whispered, "Hurry up, we're going to be late."
The three of them jogged through the common room and rushed up the spiral staircase. Draco and Herman were clearly not familiar with the routes at Hogwarts, and almost turned the wrong way several times, but Harry pulled them back each time.
As they passed the fork in the third-floor corridor, Herman unconsciously slowed his pace and glanced again at the closed door. Harry seemed to notice his gaze but said nothing, only quickening her pace slightly.
When they reached the fourth floor, they ran into Neville and Hugo.
Neville was carrying a thick stack of books and swaying as he walked, with Hugo following beside him, constantly reciting the basic theories of Transfiguration. Ron's face was slightly flushed, probably because he was afraid of being late and was a little anxious.
Seeing Herman and the other two rushing over, Neville's eyes lit up. "You haven't found the classroom yet either?"
"Follow me," Harry said, pulling the yellowed parchment map from her bosom and unfolding it.
Fine ink lines flowed across the yellowed paper, clearly showing the location of every staircase, every corridor, and every hidden door. The ink marks were constantly shifting and changing, updating the castle's dynamics in real time like a living thing.
Hugo leaned over and looked at it for a while, her eyes gleaming with the excitement of someone eyeing a prey, but Harry quickly closed the map and strode towards the end of the corridor. The others hurriedly followed.
Five people rushed into the Transfiguration at the last second before the bell rang.
Professor McGonagall was not in the classroom; instead, a tabby cat sat gracefully on the podium, its posture as elegant as a sculpture at a perfect angle.
Herman and his friends hurriedly found empty seats and squeezed together, no longer caring about the difference between the two schools.
The moment the school bell rang, the cat that had been sitting quietly suddenly stood up. It first slowly looked around the classroom, its gaze sweeping over every face, and then it leaped lightly, stretching out in mid-air—its skeleton lengthening, its robes fluttering, and its face returning to normal.
The next moment, Professor McGonagall stood calmly in front of the podium, wearing a dark green robe, her hair neatly combed, and her expression serious.
A series of hushed gasps and whispers filled the classroom.
Hugo's glasses nearly slipped off his nose. He quickly pushed up the frames and whispered to Neville beside him, "This is Animagus! An extremely advanced branch of Transfiguration, requiring long training and registration with the Ministry of Magic..."
Herman watched intently.
He had previously used his abilities as superpowers: turning playing cards into flying metal blades, turning stones into cups, and altering the shape of objects.
It was only after meeting Dumbledore that he learned that these actions were actually controlled by magic, and that he wasn't a mutant at all, but a wizard!
However, the Transfiguration of living beings involves more complex aspects, such as skeletal structure, muscle distribution, internal organ location, and the invisible boundary between living and dead beings, which has prevented him from easily attempting it.
Perhaps it was his inherent materialistic thinking and scientific literacy that limited his imagination and experimentation. But seeing Professor McGonagall switch freely between cat and human, he finally felt he could shed his scientific baggage, discard his mental framework, and prepare to further explore the mysteries of magic, or rather, he had found a direction for his studies.
Professor McGonagall's gaze slowly swept over the students present. Everyone subconsciously straightened their backs, shut their mouths, and dared not even move their hands or feet, for fear of making any unnecessary noise.
"Good morning, everyone. I'm glad no one is late for my first class." Professor McGonagall's voice was steady and clear, without any unnecessary emotional fluctuations.
After confirming that everyone's attention was focused on the podium, she continued, " Transfiguration is the most complex and dangerous spell you will learn at Hogwarts. However, today's lesson is quite simple."
But the fundamentals are often the most easily overlooked part. The core of Transfiguration lies in understanding the nature of an object, not in using brute force to change its form. You must first believe that it can be changed, and then you can make it change.
She waved her wand, and a box of matches appeared out of thin air on the desk in front of each student.
"Start with turning a match into a silver needle. I know this spell might be a bit difficult for most first-year students. Don't rush it, just do your best."
Herman looked down at the tiny match in front of him, then gripped his wand tighter.
He steadied himself, pointed the tip of his staff at the match, and focused on one thing instead of thinking about any complicated incantation: turning the match into a needle.
He imagined the entire process of change: how the wood fibers shrink and compress, how the surface loses its rough texture, how it becomes smooth and stiff, and how it stretches and thins.
As Herman waved his wand, he subconsciously slowed his breathing, and the light at the tip of the wand seemed to be guided by an invisible thread, precisely covering the match.
The match flickered slightly in the glow. The wood grain began to fade, like ink being washed away by water, replaced by a smooth, silvery-white metallic sheen that slowly spread from one end to the other.
The originally short and thick piece of firewood was stretched and elongated by an invisible force, its tip narrowing and its tail flattening. In the blink of an eye, the match had transformed into a delicate silver needle, its tip so fine that it reflected a cold glint in the candlelight, and the hole at the end of the needle round, regular, and uniform in size.
Herman let out a soft breath. It went much more smoothly than he had imagined, perhaps due to the help of his wand, or perhaps because Dumbledore's " Transfiguration talent" was indeed working.
Professor McGonagall happened to walk up to his desk. She looked down at the silver needle for a while, then picked it up and examined it closely, her gaze lingering between the tip and the eye of the needle.
When she put down the needle, her expression remained serious, but Herman noticed that the lines at the corners of her mouth loosened slightly, and her tone was warmer than when she spoke to other students.
"Very good, Mr. Horace. To complete a full Transfiguration in the first lesson demonstrates your exceptional talent for precise control over magic." She flipped open her scorebook, her quill deftly drawing a line. " Slytherin, ten points."