Previously on Playing With Magic
Before going to sleep though, I lazily brandished my wand and got started on an alarm Charm and some wards. Nothing too crazy, just weak proximity and intrusion wards powerful enough to stop Newt level students. Then I was out like a log.
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2 September 1991
Hogwarts
Johnathan Grey
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My alarm charm woke me up to the light of dawn filtering through the silk curtains of my room. The [Tempus] spell let me know it was 7 a.m. on the dot, and Hogwarts was still embracing sleep.
I slipped out of bed, put on my exercise clothes and got started on my daily workout routine. After completing the 100 sit-ups and push-ups, I made my way out to do the 100 squats and run for a while until I was tired. I would have to continue doing this until I find a way to keep my body in peak physical condition.
There wasn't a sound in sight when I stepped out into the crisp morning air. A part of me wanted to cancel the run with how long it took me to even make it outside. Hogwarts was huge.
The grounds were no different, it was peaceful in the early morning, the only sounds being the gentle rustling of leaves, the enchanted gardening equipment doing their work and my own steady breaths. As I completed around 2 miles, when I was feeling the satisfying burn in my muscles, I slowed to a stop near the large fountain, catching my breath and taking a moment to appreciate the view of the school.
I wasn't surprised when my little moment was spoiled. "What do you think you're doing, wandering the grounds at this hour?" an irritable voice snapped. I turned to see Argus Filch, eyeing me suspiciously, Mrs. Norris, his cat, at his heels.
"I was just running, sir," Johnathan explained, having caught my breath a little. "Exercise... to start the day right."
"Running?" Filch eyed me up as if the concept of exercise was as foreign to him. "Running around like a miscreant, more like! Students shouldn't be out and about at this hour, disturbing the peace!"
"I wasn't disturbing anyone, sir. I made sure to stay away from the landscaping tool and everything. I was just—"
"Enough!" Filch cut me off, looking more agitated by the second as he took a few steps forward. "You'll be coming with me to Professor Mcgonagall, she'll sort yo-"
"Sir," It was my turn to cut him off. "I got confirmation from Professor McGonagall that students can leave the common room after seven in the morning. It is currently after seven. If you would excuse me, I'd like to complete my morning exercise."
If his lack of movement and increased glare was anything to go by, then he was aware and had nothing else on me. "I'll be keeping an eye on you."
"That's fine, sir. The name's Grey if you want to check with Professor McGonagall." I added. He can be petty all he wants.
"Any suspicious activity and I'll have you reported to your Head of House, see if I don't!" With a final suspicious glare, Filch turned on his heel and stalked off, Mrs. Norris trailing behind him.
Seriously, if you don't like kids just work somewhere else.
When I made my way back there were a few upper year students already in the common room chatting and reading. I ended up seeing Cedric as I was walking to my room.
"There you are, I was just done waking your classmates up. We'll be taking you guys to the Great Hall for breakfast-" He paused with a frown, looking at my attire, "-what were you doing out of bed?"
"Morning exercise." was all I said.
His lips thinned as his frown increased, "Hmm, better get ready. We'll be leaving soon."
With a nod I continued on my way. After making my way in, I used some household spells to clean myself up. I didn't want to use a shared bathroom, I prefer a peaceful shower. It's a shame the first landed on Sunday, I would have liked to map out the castle and explore a bit before classes started.
Cedric noticed me immediately when I made my way back down. "That would be everyone from the boy's side. Is everyone done?" he asked the other first years that were just done noting the time table down. I already had it memorised.
After receiving a nod from Helena, he addressed us all once more. "Alright, follow me and try to remember the route."
As we walked, I noticed a school map that he must have passed around earlier. I memorised that too with just a glance. What is it with people being so petty so early in the morning? Seriously, don't we all have better things to do?
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Potions Class
Hogwarts Dungeons
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After I helped myself to a hearty English breakfast, we made our way to the dungeons for our first lesson, Potions with Hufflepuff.
"Where's your potions book?" Terry Boot asked. His friends, Micheal Corner and Anthony Goldstein were sat together at the other table so we had to partner up.
"It's just here." I made a show of reaching into my robes' inner pocket and summoned it from the inventory- hoard. From the hoard.
"Ah, enchanted robes. That's pretty cool.." A look of understanding passed through his face. "You any good at potions?"
"I know the theory, I just haven't created any yet." That reminds me, I still need to get a potions set for my enchanted suit case. "You."
"I'm the same to be honest. Though I wouldn't go as far as to say I know the theory, I only read through the first few chapters." He replied with a shrug.
"Don't worry, I'll give you a hand if you need it," I reassured the boy. It was easy points anyway.
Snape chose that moment to arrive, putting a stop to the class' muttering with his no nonsense demenour. Making his way through the classroom to the front with his cloak billowing behind him.
So that's how he does it, it's basically a really weak telekinetic aura that requires a lot of magic control. If I remember correctly he and Tom can both fly without a wand, this must be how they do it. Considering they both lived on the muggle side before coming to Hogwarts, I wonder if they got the idea from Superman's tactile telekinesis. Looks like I'll be able to fly without a wand now, and I won't have to waste points and figure it out on my own.
He began the class with roll call, his monotonous silky voice cutting through the silence. Each name was called with a precise, almost disinterested tone. well, that was until he got to mine. "Johnathan Grey," he said.
"Yes, sir," I answered. His dark eyes fixed on me, lingering just a moment longer than seemed necessary, before he continued down the list. I'm surprised he didn't try to delve into my mind at that point.
Once roll call was finished, Snape started the day's lesson with a sneer. "Let's see if any of you have managed to actually open their textbooks," he drawled, his gaze sweeping over us.
Without warning, his attention snapped back to me. "Mr. Grey," he said, his voice sharp, "let's start with you. Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
"The Draught of Living Death, sir," I answered, keeping my voice steady. Either this is an arrogance check or he's just being a prick.
Snape's eyebrows raised ever so slightly, a silent acknowledgement of my correct answer. "Indeed. And what, Mr. Grey, are the properties of aconite?"
"It's also known as wolfsbane or monkshood," I replied, even as I bounced his [Legilimens]. I don't need to let anyone into my head anymore, I have proof of having learned [Occlumency] now. "Highly poisonous, used in potions to treat lycanthropy symptoms among other things."
For a moment, I saw surprise in Snape's eyes, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. "Well, it appears at least one of you has opened a book before coming to my class," he said, turning his gaze from me to the rest of the class. "Well, what are you all waiting for? Write it down, unless you wish to fail miserably in your endeavours."
When the students stopped fussing with their quills, he continued. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."
After an explanation of the theoretical side of making potions, Snape's voice cut through the quiet once again. "Today, you will be attempting a potion that, while basic, requires careful attention to detail—the Boil-Cure Potion. A mistake as simple as overheating your cauldron can turn this cure into a cause for more afflictions. Let's see if you can manage that without causing a disaster."
He flicked his wand to animate the chalk near the blackboard at the front, and the chalk went on to write the recipe for him. "You will find the ingredients you need at the back of the room. Begin now, and remember, I will be deducting points for any mistakes."
The class got up to gather their ingredients, whispering among themselves. Dried nettles, crushed snake fangs, and a handful of horned slugs. As we gathered our ingredients, I glanced at the blackboard, where Snape had listed the instructions for the Boil-Cure Potion. Just to see of my fanon knowledge of him showing better versions of the textbook was true.
Sure enough, the differences were there, slight but potentially significant. I mentioned it to Terry, who looked puzzled. "Should we just follow the board, then?" he asked, his brow furrowed.
"He's a potions master. I've read that there are other ways to make the same potion, sometimes they allow people to make them quicker, and sometimes the potions are more effective," I suggested with a shrug.
As we began brewing, I could feel the magic from the ingredients move and weave in the potion as we were mixing. It was similar to the feeling I would get from my wand, allowing me to feel that if we adjusted the timing of adding the horned slugs, or stirred the mixture a few extra times after adding the snake fangs, we might enhance the potion's effectiveness. Like tasting the food as you cook so you know which things to add to make it better. I read in the NEWT-level potions books that some people could do this if they were sensitive enough to magic.
I'm starting to see why Snape might consider it an art form.
"Terry, trust me on this," I said, my voice low so only he could hear. "Let's make a few more adjustments. I have a hunch it'll work out."
Terry looked sceptical but nodded. "Alright, John, let's do it your way."
As we worked, following the altered steps I suggested, I also noticed Snape fixated on what I was doing even as he was prowling and snapping at other students. "Stir counterclockwise, Mr Finnigan, unless you're aiming to produce blisters rather than cure them." He scowled. "If you cannot follow simple instructions, you have no place in my classroom,"
Terry watched in amazement as the potion's colour began to shift to a perfect shade of pink earlier than expected, its aroma filling the air around us with a more pleasant scent. Soon enough, we were done.
When Snape prowled over to inspect our work, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You've deviated from the instructions," he observed, his tone flat.
Before Terry could respond, he examined the potion more closely. Then, something remarkable happened—his expression softened ever so slightly. "It seems your... improvisation has not been disastrous. Hmm, a well-made Boil-Cure Potion." He continued. "20 points to Ravenclaw, and spend the rest of the class reading up on the next class."
Everyone seemed to give us looks. Snape's acknowledgement of another house's success was supposed to be rare praise. As he moved on, potion in hand, Terry elbowed me gently. "Good call, John," he whispered, a grin spreading across his face.
Soon enough, the lesson was over. "Time is up," Snape announced as he walked in front of all the other cauldrons. He inspected their contents with an unreadable expression. Then, with a slight nod if it was done right, or a few words on where they went wrong.
As the bell rang, signalling the end of class, Snape had one final announcement. "For your homework, you will write an essay on the properties of the Boil-Cure Potion and its key ingredients. Due next class."
The students groaned in unison as we made our way out.
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Transfiguration Class
Hogwarts Dungeons
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The small break before Transfiguration class felt incredibly short, we only had enough time to grab a snack from the great hall before leaving a few minutes after.
Stepping into the Transfiguration classroom, the sleek tabby cat on the large desk at the front immediately caught my eye, its eyes marked distinctly with what looked like square spectacles. The room buzzed with whispers as more of my classmates noticed our peculiar observer.
I already knew it was McGonagall's Animagus form and would be able to replicate how her magic moves when transformed back. But I would need to do the ritual myself to find my own animagus, otherwise I would only be able to turn into a cat. The cat watched us with an almost discerning gaze, as if assessing each of us as we found our seats.
Without warning, the cat jumped down from the desk and, in a fluid motion, transformed into Professor McGonagall. The transformation was both swift and graceful, leaving a few students in awe, clapping and whispering among themselves.
"Good morning, class," Professor McGonagall said, her voice firm yet tinged with a slight amusement from our reactions. "Today's demonstration was not merely for spectacle. Transfiguration is about the essence of transformation, understanding the delicate balance between form and substance."
"As we delve deeper into Transfiguration," she continued, "you'll learn that it is one of the most complex and dangerous subjects at Hogwarts. It requires discipline, focus and control. I expect nothing less than your utmost attention and effort. Anyone seen misusing transfiguration will face severe consequences. You have been warned."
Soon enough, with a flick of her wand and a clear, authoritative command, the large desk at the front of the room shuddered and morphed into a pig. The pig, snorted and trotted around before McGonagall reversed the transformation, bringing the desk back with another swift motion of her wand.
The class erupted into excited chatter, but McGonagall quickly regained control. "Impressive as this may be," she began, her voice cutting through the noise, "such complex transfigurations will not be your starting point. In this class, we build our foundation first. Mastery of the basic principles is crucial before attempting anything as advanced as transfiguring living creatures."
After a long while of explaining the theory behind transfiguration, she then proceeded to introduce us to our first practical lesson. "You will start with something far simpler, yet no less important. Our goal will be to transfigure an inanimate object. Specifically, you will learn to change a matchstick into a needle."
The animagus demonstrated the spell, her wand movements precise, her incantation clear. The matchstick on her desk elegantly reshaped itself into a shiny, silver needle. "Concentration and visualisation are key," she instructed. "You must clearly picture the change you want to occur."
Each of us was then provided with a matchstick. Before she could even levitate all the matchstick to the last desk at the back, I was holding a needle where a matchstick had been moments before.
"Professor McGonagall." I called out. She turned, her eyebrows raised in a mix of surprise and curiosity.
"Yes, Mr. Grey?" she asked, making her way over to me.
"I've done it, ma'am," I said, showing her the needle.
She observed it closely, then nodded. "Do it again, please," she instructed, her voice sceptical.
I repeated the process with another matchstick. Again, it transformed smoothly into a needle.
"Very well done, Mr. Grey," McGonagall acknowledged with a rare hint of approval in her voice. "Five points to Ravenclaw."
McGonagall then presented me with a further challenge, pushing a small pile of matchsticks towards me. "Let's see if you can manage multiple at once."
With a sweeping gesture and incantation, the matchsticks transformed together, each one becoming a needle in a seamless display of magic.
McGonagall's nod was more pronounced this time. "Impressive, Mr. Grey. An additional ten points to Ravenclaw. I suggest you read ahead for our next class."
As she moved on to assist other students, I turned to find Terry struggling with his matchstick, frustration evident on his face.
"Try focusing more on the image of the needle, Terry," I advised, moving closer to him. "Visualise it transforming, and let that image guide your magic."
With a few more attempts, Terry's matchstick quivered and then lengthened into a slender, metallic needle. Earning points of his own.
"Thanks, John," he said, a grateful smile spreading across his face. "Looks like I owe you another one."
"Don't worry about it," easy point- I mean, it's the right thing to do. Yeah, that's it.
I spent the remaining minutes of class moving between those sitting close to me, offering tips under the ever watchful gaze of the animagus. She didn't stop me though, she knew the advice I was giving was correct and working.
As class drew to a close, Professor McGonagall announced our homework, "Two feet of parchment on the theory of basic Transfiguration, focusing on the importance of intention in spellcasting." The room filled with the sound of students packing their bags, some groaning at the thought.
As my classmates filed out of the room, I lingered behind. Approaching Professor McGonagall, who was organising her notes at the desk, I cleared my throat.
"Professor, may I have a moment?" I asked.
"Of course, Mr. Grey. What is it?" she replied, her expression neutral.
"I was wondering if it might be possible for me to take the exams now. I believe I've learned what I need to move on."
Professor McGonagall regarded me over her spectacles for a moment, a critical gleam in her eyes. Then, she set down her quill and folded her hands in front of her.
"Before we discuss any form of advancement, Mr. Grey, I need to ascertain the depth of your understanding," she said, her tone serious. "Answer me these questions."
She proceeded to ask about the principles of Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration, the ethical considerations in transfiguring living creatures, and the intricacies of transfiguration principles.
McGonagall listened intently, nodding along as I spoke, her expression neutral. Dumbledore must have had a conversation with her, she seems to be less sceptical than our first meeting and I don't think one lesson should have been able to change that.
Finally, after she realised I was ready, she relented. "Very well, Mr. Grey. Your understanding of Transfiguration is indeed impressive. I will prepare a practice test for you this Saturday. If you perform to the standards required, we will discuss the possibility of your advancement in Transfiguration."
"Actually, Professor, when I mentioned advancing, I didn't mean just in Transfiguration. I believe I'm ready to take all the advancement tests for both the first and second year," I said, my voice steady despite the racing of my heart.
Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows. "All subjects." she said, her tone now carrying a hint of curiosity.
"Yes, Professor. I've spent a lot of time studying, and I feel prepared," I affirmed.
McGonagall regarded me for a long moment, then finally nodded. "Very well, Mr. Grey. This is highly unusual, but I will speak with the other professors. If your performance on Saturday's test is satisfactory, we will consider arranging the rest of the advancement tests."
"Thank you, Professor. I'll see you then," I promised.
With that, I took my leave.
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"An investment in knowledge pays the best interest."
Benjamin Franklin
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Author Here
John attends his first two lessons, Potions and Transfiguration. Then gets his advancement lessons booked.
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Disclaimer: I own nothing except my OC and original ideas. All credit goes to their respective owners.
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P..a.t..r.e.o.n (.com)/Lightest_Reader
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Thank you for reading.
Until next time.