Waking, I was immediately struck by a heightened awareness. My senses were sharper, the world around me more vivid. The Daredevil template, it seemed, was already taking effect, its assimilation progress at a brisk 8%.
Glancing down at the clock beside the bed, I noted it was 6:37. It appeared that each room was equipped with one since my arrival. Should I feel strange about a Muggle item in Hogwarts? I recalled seeing a similar clock in Malfoy Manor, but how was it working here? Muggle devices typically don't function at Hogwarts, so perhaps there was some magic at play allowing it.
After washing my face and getting ready, I prepared myself for the day.
-------
Dressed for class, I headed to the Great Hall for breakfast. Along the way, I didn't encounter many students—perhaps because it was the first day—but I did pass a few seniors lingering in the common areas.
Taking a seat, I thought about what I wanted for breakfast—maybe eggs with fruit juice—and, almost immediately, they appeared before me. The house-elves were indeed skilled at their work. Yet a thought struck me: I hadn't spoken my choice out loud, only thought it. Was it a coincidence? I doubted it.
Curious now, I decided to test the phenomenon. I pictured an apple, neatly sliced, imagining the crisp scent of it. A moment later, a small plate appeared in front of me, filled with slices exactly as I'd envisioned. A chill ran through me as I picked up a slice, studying it before taking a slow bite. The taste was sharp and real, the crunch unmistakable. How could this be happening?
I knew my mind was protected by an artifact—like most others from families with status, to keep family secrets secure. Lucius had given Draco a ring to prevent his thoughts from being read, despite his abusive nature towards him, along with training in Occlumency. I didn't doubt the ring's ability; despite his hatred, Lucius wouldn't want anyone else knowing what went on within the family.
It felt like the castle was playing a game with me, revealing glimpses, daring me to probe deeper. Perhaps it was a warning, a challenge, or simply the magic of the place playing tricks. Either way, I knew then that I'd need to tread carefully here. This was only the first day, and already, the threads of mystery were tightening around me.
With a sense of unease, I took another bite of apple, my mind racing even as my expression remained neutral. There would be many such mornings ahead, and I would need every ounce of vigilance. Hogwarts, it seemed, had far more in store for me than a simple education.
Finishing my breakfast, I made my way to my first class, Transfiguration. Though I had an hour to spare, I preferred to be early. It was Tuesday, and McGonagall's class was scheduled from 9 to 11 AM.
Each day at Hogwarts followed a similar pattern, with three or four subjects and a late-night Astronomy class on Wednesdays. Weekends, thankfully, were free of classes..
Taking the stairs, I made my way to the second floor and entered the classroom listed on the notice board in the common room, which I had checked earlier this morning.
Hmm, what can I say? Everything seems fairly ordinary—nothing exceptional caught my eye. There's no hidden closet for storing artifacts or anything unusual. The entire setup is arranged just like in the movie.
I felt someone approaching the classroom—heavy footsteps, like those of an adult . Since there were no senior lecturers listed for this floor, at least for Slytherin, I could already guess who it was.
Turning around, I found Professor McGonagall, her glasses perched on her nose, her black robes draped over her serious face. She must have been well over fifty, if the movies were anything to go by.
"Good morning, Professor," I greeted her first cutting the silence .
McGonagall glanced at Draco, surprised to find anyone in the classroom so early, especially a Slytherin.
"Good morning, Mr. Malfoy," she replied, her eyes sweeping across the room to ensure there was nothing unusual.
Glancing at him again, she asked, "Why are you here so early, Mr. Malfoy?"She couldn't fathom the reason for his early arrival.
I met her gaze, a sense of calm washing over me. "I simply wanted to get an early start, Professor," I replied, my voice steady, it was truth .
Her eyebrows raised in surprise, but she quickly regained her composure. "Very well, Mr. Malfoy. Let us hope your enthusiasm translates into diligence."
Then she moved toward her chair, while Draco took the last available seat, adhering to the unspoken rule of backbenchers.
Taking out the book of transfiguration from extension pouch he start to read. He remember there seems some law against these of it in movies but can't remember details but here In this context, using such a charm was strictly prohibited; anyone caught doing so would incur a fine.
The extension charm could disrupt the space around the user, often leading to unintended destruction if not handled with care. For this reason, only licensed individuals or company from ministry were permitted to sell extension pouches or offer related services.
There was a case two years ago involving a mishap with the spell that resulted in the destruction of an entire area, and there was no news of the user afterward.
Wait a minute—how did they determine it was due to this spell? The time turner? No, it shouldn't be safe then. Too many questions.
Despite how easy it seems in movies, performing magic involves much more than simply waving a wand. There are often significant consequences when creating new spells, potions, or artifacts. Nevertheless, the wizarding world continues to experience constant upgrades and advancements.
Draco's chain of thought broke when McGonagall suddenly stood up and exited the room.
'What happened? There's only half an hour left. Why did she leave?' Given his low level of assimilation, his range was limited, so he couldn't guess where she might be. Suddenly, he sensed something—a small creature had entered through the window. Turning around, he saw a cat perched on McGonagall's table.
He immediately understood what had happened: she wanted to transform but didn't want to do it in front of him. Would he tell others? Perhaps that was her concern.
This was the only reason he could think of, since it wasn't as if her clothes would vanish in front of him. Most Animagi are skilled in Transfiguration, allowing them to change their clothes as they transform to avoid being seen naked.