Orion left his training, freshly showered, and upon returning to the Hufflepuff common room, he noticed that several students were already awake. He walked across the room quietly, offering a simple polite nod to those who greeted him but with no real intention of engaging in conversation. His demeanor, though calm, projected a certain distance, an invisible barrier he instinctively maintained around himself.
He sat at a table in the Great Hall for breakfast, quickly spotting Emma and Max, who were already seated. They greeted him with smiles, and while he didn't return the gesture, he acknowledged them with a nod and took a seat beside them.
"Sleep well?" asked Emma, always cheerful and warm.
"Yes, thank you," Orion replied calmly. His tone was neutral, but not cold.
Max, ever curious, glanced at Orion before asking his question. "You were gone already this morning. What were you up to?"
Orion took a sip of his pumpkin juice before responding in a measured tone. "I train early in the morning. It's a habit I've developed."
Max raised his eyebrows, clearly impressed. "Training? Like... magic?"
Orion shook his head slightly. "No, mostly physical exercises. It's important to maintain a balance between body and mind." His tone remained calm, detached, offering no further details.
Emma smiled, a little amused. "I admire you. I could never get up that early to do that."
Her smile widened as she added, "But actually, it doesn't surprise me that much. You really do live up to being called Gildorion, right?"
Orion paused for a moment, staring at his plate without any visible reaction. Yet Emma could sense that just hearing the nickname triggered something in him, even if his expression remained as neutral as ever.
Repeating himself, his eyes still fixed on his plate, Orion murmured in his usual flat tone, "I'm neither proud nor heroic."
However, Emma wasn't about to let him off the hook that easily. She raised her hand, folding a finger with each point she made. "Let's see. You helped us on the train when no one asked you..." First finger. "You're incredibly good-looking, and everyone here agrees..." Second finger, accompanied by a mischievous smile. "You have magic talent that far surpasses what we've seen from other students..." Third finger.
She squinted, searching for a fourth point, then raised a fourth finger. "And you're mysterious, almost impossible to figure out." She paused for a moment, as if checking if she'd forgotten something before adding, "So, if you're not a hero, you certainly make one heck of an impression."
Max, who had been listening, couldn't help but stifle a laugh as he watched Orion being bombarded with arguments.
Orion sighed softly, rolling his eyes. "You love to exaggerate," he said, his tone detached.
But Emma, undeterred, laughed and raised her voice slightly in response: "Exaggerate? Not at all! I'm just telling the truth: you're gorgeous. Isn't that right, girls?" She glanced toward the nearby tables with a playful grin.
Orion, slightly taken aback, turned his head as well and saw several girls listening, some nodding in agreement, others whispering enthusiastic responses: "Yes, definitely!" "You said it!" and "So true!"
Laughter rippled through the surrounding tables, the atmosphere light and teasing. Even Orion, despite his reserved nature, allowed a faint smile of disbelief to escape at the unexpected outpouring of admiration.
An older student sitting nearby then called out with amusement: "Hey, Cedric! Looks like your reign is over, mate! You've got some serious competition now!"
Cedric Diggory, seated a few places away, turned toward them with a relaxed smile. He shrugged in Orion's direction, replying with an amused grin, "I'd be more than happy not to receive all the attention anymore."
Orion didn't respond immediately, focusing on his plate as if all the attention didn't affect him. However, despite his efforts to maintain his neutral expression, a slight blush crept onto his cheeks, which didn't go unnoticed by Emma and Max, who exchanged knowing smiles.
Emma, clearly amused by the situation, continued teasing Orion. "Well, Cedric's right. At this rate, you'll be the new star of Hufflepuff!" She glanced around at the surrounding students, most of whom were smiling, enjoying the playful banter. "I think you already have some fans."
Max, ever the more reserved one, added with a smile, "All that's left is for you to win a Quidditch match, and then Cedric will really have something to worry about."
Though amused by the conversation, Orion preferred to put an end to the teasing by straightening up slightly. "Regardless, popularity isn't really my goal. I have other priorities."
Emma, always ready to joke, raised her eyebrows curiously. "Oh yeah? And what priorities, exactly?"
Orion looked at her, his expression growing a bit more serious. "Studies, magic... what I'm here for."
Emma, still teasing, smiled mischievously at him. "Oh, Mr. Serious! But with the kind of magic you've already shown us, I guess it makes sense you'd take it seriously."
Orion couldn't help but frown slightly at Emma's words. He quickly realized she was referring to the moment he'd levitated their luggage in the train, without any incantation or wand, as if it had required no effort.
He looked at her calmly, but his tone grew firmer than usual. "Talent might speed up learning, maybe even define the limits of potential, but a person who is disciplined and determined will always be more capable than someone with talent but without discipline or will."
Emma rested her head on her hand and watched Orion for a few seconds before saying with a playful smile: "You know, Orion... being handsome and talented is great. But there's one thing you really need to work on..." She paused dramatically before adding with a teasing tone: "You're also incredibly boring. If you don't do something about that, I'm afraid your competition with Cedric won't last long."
Despite Emma and Max's jokes, Orion remained impassive, focused on his own schedule. The Great Hall gradually filled with younger students, and the growing commotion around him did nothing to alter his cold and distant demeanor.
Glancing at his timetable, he stood up without a word. "I'm going to Transfiguration class," he declared in a neutral tone, and without waiting for a response, he left the Hufflepuff table.
Emma, surprised that she hadn't been included in his announcement, raised her eyebrows. She exchanged a quick glance with Max before standing up and following Orion. Max, somewhat perplexed, followed suit as well.
They had only walked a few meters outside the hall when Orion turned slightly, visibly surprised to see them walking right behind him. He frowned briefly before continuing on his way without comment.
Emma, catching the meaning behind his silent glance, responded with an amused smile: "We're in the same class, might as well walk together."
As Orion entered the Transfiguration classroom, he had the chance to observe what a real classroom looked like for the first time. The room was empty and silent, with no other students having arrived yet. The walls were adorned with paintings depicting magical transformations. He walked forward calmly, followed by Emma and Max, not paying attention to the details.
Then, suddenly, Cassandra, his guardian, murmured in his mind: You're not alone here, Little One.
His body tensed, and he stopped abruptly. Max, who was walking right behind him, bumped into him unexpectedly and groaned, rubbing his nose. "What's wrong with you?" he exclaimed, surprised.
Orion instantly became alert, his senses heightened. He ignored Max and narrowed his eyes slightly, scanning the room for anyone else who might be there.
His gaze swept over the room and landed on a tabby cat, calmly sitting on the professor's desk. Something about its posture and the intelligence in its eyes immediately caught his attention. He frowned, quickly realizing it wasn't an ordinary animal.
Animagus, he concluded mentally, becoming more certain of his deduction.
Emma, ever curious, noticed the sudden tension in Orion's behavior and leaned in slightly towards him. "What's going on?" she asked, intrigued.
Orion didn't respond right away, his heterochromatic eyes fixed on the tabby cat. He wondered why an Animagus would be hiding its presence in a classroom. The cat, as if realizing it had been found out, met his gaze with equal intensity.
A few seconds later, under the wide-eyed stares of Emma and Max, the cat gracefully leaped off the desk and, in one fluid motion, shifted instantly from animal to human form. All three of them instantly recognized who it was: Professor McGonagall.
Emma let out a gasp of surprise, while Max stood frozen, mouth agape. McGonagall, with a slightly amused smile, addressed Orion directly: "You have a particularly sharp eye, Mr. Maga."
She studied the young man closely before continuing, her tone more serious: "But what exactly did you notice to make you act this way?"
After a moment of reflection, Orion responded calmly, "My instinct told me I wasn't alone. So I searched to understand what was causing that feeling."
McGonagall showed genuine surprise for a few seconds before giving a small approving smile. "An admirable instinct. But I assure you, you have nothing to fear here."
Still somewhat shaken, Emma and Max observed their professor with expressions that brought an amused smile to McGonagall's usually stern face. She gestured for them to sit down, her tone lighter again: "Come on, take your seats. And try not to spoil the surprise for the other students."
Once the classroom was filled with students, the chatter grew louder, most of them wondering where Professor McGonagall could be. Her prolonged absence became the main topic of discussion, with some students even throwing out wild theories.
Suddenly, without a sound, the tabby cat that had been sitting on the desk gracefully leaped to the ground and, in the blink of an eye, transformed into the tall, imposing figure of Professor McGonagall.
Instant silence fell over the classroom.
"I am Professor McGonagall," she began, her solemn tone immediately capturing everyone's attention. "I will be your Transfiguration teacher this year."
She paused, surveying the class before continuing. "Transfiguration is one of the most complex and demanding branches of magic. It requires rigor, concentration, and most importantly, precision. Those who do not take this discipline seriously will soon face the consequences."
Some students swallowed nervously, while McGonagall went on. "But do not worry; with hard work and discipline, you will all succeed. This year, we will start with simple transformations before moving on to more advanced subjects."
She turned to the desk and, with a simple flick of her wand, transformed it into a pig before changing it back into a desk. "This is a basic demonstration of what you will be able to accomplish in time."
A murmur of awe spread through the classroom.
"Today, we will begin with a simple transformation: turning a matchstick into a needle," she explained, before handing out matchsticks to each student. "Watch closely," Professor McGonagall said as she held a matchstick between her fingers.
"To succeed in Transfiguration, concentration is paramount. Visualize clearly the object you wish to obtain. In this case, it's a needle. Imagine its shape, texture, and color. Then, we will use the spell Vera Verto. The wand movement is just as important as the pronunciation of the spell."
She gently waved her wand over the matchstick, making a circular motion. "You must make a small circle, then lower the wand's tip toward the object. The pronunciation must be clear and confident: Vera Verto."
With a fluid gesture, she performed the movement and clearly pronounced the spell. The matchstick instantly transformed into a fine, silver needle, gleaming in the light.
McGonagall raised the needle to show the class. "This is what you'll attempt to do today. Take your time. Think through each step. Visualize the needle in your mind, pronounce Vera Verto clearly, and perform the circular motion with precision."
She conjured more matchsticks onto each desk. "To summarize the steps for a successful Transfiguration, you must: pronounce the incantation correctly, perform the wand movement exactly, and visualize the result you want with precision. If you don't succeed right away, that's normal. Take the time to master each step and clearly imagine the transition from matchstick to needle. If you follow my instructions, it's only a matter of patience and concentration before you succeed. Now, it's your turn."
Orion, seated at the back of the room, quietly observed as his classmates tried to perform their first Transfiguration. He watched as some students squinted in deep concentration, while others nervously waved their wands without success. A few whispers filled the room as the general failure weighed on the atmosphere.
For most, the matchsticks remained unchanged: ordinary and untransformed. For others, they twisted or lost their shape, but none had fully transformed into a proper needle. A few frustrated students glanced around to see if anyone had managed to succeed.
Professor McGonagall, who was walking between the rows to correct students, stopped by Orion's desk. She frowned slightly when she saw him sitting calmly with his arms crossed, not even attempting the exercise. She approached and, with a slightly stern tone, asked:
"Why haven't you started yet, Mr. Maga?"
Orion calmly looked up at Professor McGonagall. His classmates, though focused on their own tasks, were listening to the scene with curious glances, wondering how their teacher would react to the inactive student.
"I haven't started the exercise, Professor, because... it doesn't really pose a challenge for me. I've already attained a certain level of mastery in Transfiguration. This exercise, therefore, doesn't hold much interest for me."
Professor McGonagall, visibly irritated by what she perceived as arrogance, frowned and replied sharply:
"I am the only one who can judge your level and determine whether or not you are excused from an exercise, Mr. Maga."
Orion inclined his head slightly and responded politely, "As you wish."
Without another word, Orion turned his attention to the matchstick. Without any gesture or incantation, it floated gently from the desk to eye level, drawing the attention of the students around him. Under their astonished gazes, the matchstick slowly transformed into a perfectly formed, gleaming silver needle, still hovering in midair before his impassive face.