Today was a welcome break from the usual potions class with Snape, allowing the students to relax a bit. The morning brought the excitement of Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration class. They had already covered the theoretical aspects, and it was finally time to put that knowledge into practice. The tabby cat, whom everyone now recognized as Professor McGonagall in her Animagus form, sat regally on the podium. After a few days of getting to know the cat, the young wizards knew better than to provoke her. After all, a seasoned cat Animagus wasn't someone you wanted to mess with.
As the class commenced, Professor McGonagall distributed a matchstick to each student. She had something special in store for them.
"Alright, ladies and gentlemen, in today's class, we'll be delving into the fascinating world of Transfiguration Spells," she announced with a twinkle in her eye. With that, she waved her wand toward the tall podium, softly chanting an incantation.
A white mist swirled around, and before their eyes, the solid podium transformed into a pink-skinned pig with a comical oink. Gasps of amazement filled the classroom. Although they had witnessed Professor McGonagall's demonstration earlier, the students couldn't help but be astounded.
"For this semester's Transfiguration final exam, you'll be required to transform a small mouse into a snuff bottle," Professor McGonagall announced as she reversed the pig's transformation with a flick of her wand. She levitated the table back into its original position. The students exchanged anxious glances, realizing that turning a living creature into an inanimate object posed a more significant challenge.
"Now, we'll learn to turn a matchstick into a needle. I believe this won't be a daunting task for those who've been attentive during the lecture." Professor McGonagall cast a meaningful glance at Luke, seated in the front row.
"Extra points for those who successfully complete this task!" she added, igniting a spark of motivation in the students. They eagerly brandished their wands and aimed at their matchsticks.
In contrast, Luke retrieved his wand with an unhurried demeanor. Having transformed a button into a frog during the first lesson, this task held no fear for him. Hermione, too, took her wand in hand, pointed it at her matchstick, and meticulously began to recite the incantation.
Under the watchful eyes of Luke and Hermione, the matchstick started to twist and contort. After a moment, the top half of the match turned into a gleaming metal tip, while the bottom half stubbornly remained a wooden strip.
"Failed," Hermione muttered, undeterred, and continued to wave her wand, attempting to correct the transformation. However, a series of mishaps plagued her efforts.
"Perhaps you should try closing your eyes," Luke suggested, offering a friendly piece of advice. Hermione's unwavering gaze fixed on the matchstick may have been affecting her ability to envision the needle's shape without the matchstick's form interfering.
"Let me give it a try," Luke offered with a confident smile.
"An impeccable transformation, Mr. Geralt," Professor McGonagall, who had come down from the podium, commended.
"Slytherin earns an additional 10 points!" she announced, making Luke's day even better.
"Thank you, Professor," Luke said with a humble grin.
Hermione couldn't contain her curiosity and turned to Luke, asking eagerly, "How did you do it, Luke?"
With a touch of mystery in his voice, Luke shared his secret, "Visualize the needle's shape clearly in your mind, and forget about the matchstick."
Hermione nodded, understanding his advice, and closed her eyes. With a melodious incantation, the matchstick before them began to twist, but this time, no errors occurred. A slender needle, glistening with a metallic sheen, lay serenely on the table.
"Excellent work, Miss Granger, but you won't be receiving any points as you are second," Professor McGonagall commended, adding a touch of friendly competition to the class.
——
The enchanting beauty of the sunset glow was even more awe-inspiring on snowy days. Looking out of the window, the world outside was draped in a pristine, shimmering white, and even the Black Lake had a delicate layer of ice glistening on its surface.
As the cold air nipped at them, the young wizards decided to retreat to their respective dormitories after their classes, indulging in the comfort of a steaming cup of hot chocolate.
Luke and Hermione, feeling the chill in the air, abandoned their plans to visit the library. Rumor had it that Madam Pince had left early to enjoy a drink at the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade, whispered by the mischievous ghosts. With the library off-limits, their only option was to head back to their house common rooms.
.....
Returning to Slytherin, Luke made a special detour to Professor Quirrell's quarters. There, he found the usually lively professor lying on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Luke kept a respectful distance, a mixture of concern and compassion in his eyes.
"Just hang in there," he silently wished. Lately, his proficiency with the Killing Curse had notably improved, and he had contemplated seeking out Tom for further practice. However, seeing Quirrell in such a state made him reconsider. After all, Quirrell was a person too, and even sheep needed time to grow their wool.
Back in the cozy atmosphere of the Slytherin common room, Malfoy and Crabbe were deeply engrossed in a heated game of wizard chess. Luke, with an arched eyebrow, inquired, "Care to join in?" But after a brief moment of contemplation, he decided to return to his bed. Wizard chess didn't quite tickle his fancy at the moment. He'd rather dedicate his time to diligent studying.
With the soft, warm glow of the bedside lamp, Luke reached for Hermione's notebook. It was adorned with her meticulous notes from Professor Flitwick's lecture, and his keen eyes spotted a long, curly strand of brown hair. The faint fragrance still clung to the strand—a trace of Hermione's scent.
Intrigued by the moment, Luke carefully tucked it away. Who knew when it might come in handy?
.....
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