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Chapter 12 - Chapter 12: Transfiguration Class

The sky was just beginning to brighten. Jack, bleary-eyed, was obviously not well-rested.

"Get up, Frank, you're a zombie now! No need for sleep!" Jack nudged Frank, who had somehow ended up sleeping next to him, speaking feebly.

After contaminating the soul (using his own blood) last night, he had become completely drained.

In Bloodman Barrow's words, "Master, you don't know how you looked, as if you were about to drop dead any second."

Well, Jack didn't want to admit it, but he clearly found that using necromancy in this world took a massive toll on his body.

Frank was quickly awakened by Jack's noise, his first reflex was to check his stomach, which was intact. He then touched his neck, no scars. Was last night a dream?

"Oh my God, you don't think you were dreaming, do you, Frank. Although I know you look just like a normal person, don't give me that wronged look. Now, please hurry up, get out of bed, and roll back to Gryffindor's dormitory!"

Jack couldn't imagine the sensation it would cause when someone saw a new Gryffindor student coming out from the Slytherin dormitory.

Maybe then, no one would think Jack was a fool; instead, they might think he had inherited the seductive powers of the Veela bloodline.

Hearing this, Frank of course reacted. No matter whether he was dead or oh, he means a zombie, he was still a Gryffindor!

He certainly did not want to be laughed at by a group of Slytherins!

So, with Jack's help (a weakened Jack could only provide cover for Frank), Frank managed to crawl back to the Gryffindor dormitory without any incidents.

Thank heavens, he hadn't forgotten the password.

"Dragon dung."

The very first Transfiguration class of the school year was, surprisingly, shared between Gryffindor and Slytherin.

Jack even felt this was a deliberate arrangement by Dumbledore, perhaps thinking this might improve the relationship between the two houses.

Possible?

When Jack slowly walked into the classroom and saw Draco and Harry facing off against each other, he thought it entirely impossible.

"Oh, Potter, our Savior!" Draco, flanked by his cronies Goyle and Crabbe, approached Harry.

Although the two had not really met before, Draco felt an instant dislike for Harry Potter upon seeing him, sensing he should become Harry's lifelong rival. (Draco was almost scared by his own thoughts.)

Jack found a seat in the back of the room, clearly not wanting to get involved in the squabbles of these children.

Harry and the red-haired boy next to him, Ron, were immediately infuriated.

Ron frowned and whispered to Harry, "That's Draco Malfoy, a nasty piece of work. My mother mentioned his family might be Death Eaters!"

Death Eaters! Harry, of course, knew about them; the faithful followers of the Dark Lord whose name must not be spoken.

Yet, it was strange that a Death Eater's child could still attend Hogwarts.

"Wesley, didn't your mother ever tell you, speaking out of turn in front of others can get you hit?" Draco's face changed the moment he heard the mention of Death Eaters, and he even pulled out his wand.

In an instant, many classmates let out surprised screams.

Jack was very curious to see Draco, curious about the caliber of this peer among peers.

However, Professor McGonagall did not give him a chance to enjoy the show.

"Put down your wand, Mr. Malfoy!" Professor McGonagall appeared at the door out of nowhere, staring coldly at Draco. "Slytherin, one point deducted! For attempting to attack a student from another house!"

"Oh, Draco, well, I mean, Professor McGonagall is the head of Gryffindor," Pansy whispered to an angry Draco.

"Professor McGonagall seems a lot stricter than the other teachers." Frank, who had now taken the seat beside Jack, looked no different from before aside from his pupils changing from their original blue to a shade of gray.

"Frank, I know you've become my zombie and can't help wanting to be close to me. But don't you think it's weird for a Gryffindor and a Slytherin to be this close?"

Jack innately disliked people being too close to him, obviously unable to view Frank as just a mere zombie.

"It's okay, I think Professor McGonagall would love to see this," Frank replied and even raised his head to give Professor McGonagall a smile.

Wearing glasses and with her hair neatly bundled behind, Professor McGonagall looked strict yet intelligent. Yes, she was an extremely competent witch.

"Alright, let's forget the unpleasantness just now. Let's start the class. Before we begin, I must tell you, Transfiguration is the most complex and dangerous spell you will learn at Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall scanned Draco and Harry.

"If anyone dares to cause trouble in my class, I will immediately ask him to leave, and never come back."

Jack probably understood why she was chosen to teach the first lesson; Professor McGonagall was giving these newcomers a show of power.

She might have been a Puritan or an inquisitor if she were in church.

In the end, Frank sat next to Jack. And Draco, citing the friendly relations between the Malfoy and Ludwig families, took the seat on Jack's other side.

"I smell a strange scent." For a moment, Jack was nervous, fearing Frank had a lingering scent of necromancy. "I smell stupidity, the scent only Gryffindor lions have."

Jack looked up at the sky, realizing he had been overthinking; these were just children, after all.

And a child turned into a zombie was still, essentially, a child.

Like now, Frank seemed ready to start arguing with Draco.

"Professor McGonagall might notice this," Jack coldly cautioned. He just didn't want these fools to interrupt his learning; after all, he was very curious about the magic of this world.

In his world, every magician could only choose one field to explore. Jack chose necromancy. And he was also interested in elemental magic, but that door was forever closed to him.

Clearly, this world had no such restrictions.

Harry and Ron sat in front of Jack, and Jack didn't understand their seating choice.

Ron's neighbor was a bushy-haired girl, very excited but looking as if she was trying hard to pay keen attention to every move Professor McGonagall made (Jack: "Why didn't she choose the front row?").

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