"Mr. Adrian, I am Minerva McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, the Head of Gryffindor House, and the Transfiguration professor," McGonagall introduced herself briskly.
As Deputy Headmistress, Professor McGonagall was responsible for meeting with Muggle families of new students every summer, a role she took seriously. Over the years, she'd encountered countless Muggle families, some of whom ignored Hogwarts letters as pranks. With those families, she often needed to demonstrate her skills to prove the reality of magic, perhaps by transforming a door into a lion. Today, she'd sensed the Adrians might only need a subtle demonstration.
"Welcome, Professor McGonagall, please come in," Philemon said, ushering her inside with a respectful nod. As she took a seat, Nitya voiced a lingering doubt. "Professor, although we do believe no one would play a prank like this, could you possibly prove it to us?"
Professor McGonagall smiled warmly and nodded. "Of course. That's one reason I'm here—to confirm the authenticity of magic, to show that young Adrian has indeed been accepted into Hogwarts, and to help him gather his school supplies."
With that, she withdrew her wand and gave a small flick toward the fruit bowl on the coffee table. Instantly, the bowl and its seven apples transformed into cats—one larger British Shorthair and seven little kittens. The cats, as if suddenly aware of their new surroundings, jumped off the table and started exploring the room.
Philemon and Nitya's eyes widened. It was undeniable; this was magic beyond any illusion.
"Is this Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall?" Ethan asked, picking up one of the cream-colored kittens and examining it. The soft fur, the elastic feel of its body, and its natural movements all pointed to one fact: this was a real cat, complete with instincts and behavior.
"Yes, Ethan, this is Transfiguration," McGonagall confirmed, looking pleased with his curiosity. "If you're inclined toward Transfiguration, you could join my club in the future."
"Professor, are these cats under your control?" Ethan asked. "For instance, the one scratching the sofa—is that just an instinct?"
Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow, impressed. Few new students showed this level of insight into magic. "No, I'm not controlling them," she replied. "They're acting on their own instincts. When I transform something fully, it gains the characteristics and behaviors of what it's been turned into."
Ethan's eyes brightened. "So, before you remove the spell, they're really just cats."
"Exactly," McGonagall affirmed, her approval evident. She silently hoped the boy might be sorted into her own house, Gryffindor. This level of insight was rare for a first-year.
Ethan wasn't finished. "Professor, when you transformed them, did you specifically add these behaviors?"
McGonagall shook her head. "No, Ethan, that's simply the nature of Transfiguration itself. To achieve a successful transformation, one must have a clear understanding and a deep concept of the form being created."
Satisfied that Ethan's curiosity was sated for now, McGonagall turned to answer his parents' questions about Hogwarts, including details about the school's environment, term schedules, and family communication.
While McGonagall was engaged with his parents, Ethan became absorbed in his own thoughts about Transfiguration. Her explanations had sparked a theory. Unlike dark magic, which required negative emotions, or the Patronus Charm, which drew on positive feelings, Transfiguration seemed to rely purely on one's concept of the transformed object.
Ethan began to see that Transfiguration, in a way, was limited only by one's magical power, understanding, and mental clarity. With sufficient mastery, it might even be possible to conjure magical or mythical creatures as one could envision them. This realization opened up a vast potential within the art of Transfiguration—one he was eager to explore.