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Chapter 3 - Chapter 3: An Unusually Impolite Meeting

When a knock sounded on his door, Andrew was deep in a frustrating study session.

Self-learning Latin without suitable materials was a double torture, enough to make anyone tear up, but it was necessary—even if the language was "dead," it still had its uses.

"I'm coming," he called out, closing his fountain pen and heading to open the door. He always kept it locked, and this had been tacitly accepted.

"Good morning, Madam Camille," he greeted the two people at his door. "And this is?"

"This is Mrs. McGonagall. She's come to discuss a school enrollment with you—a school called Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts?"

Andrew was momentarily taken aback; the name sounded oddly familiar.

"Yes, Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall confirmed, glancing at Madam Camille, who didn't seem inclined to leave. "I apologize, Madam Camille, but could I have a moment alone with him?"

During this pause, the name clicked in Andrew's mind. Hogwarts—of course! It was a school for magic, a place dedicated to training wizards. He had even played a game called Hogwarts Legacy, which, to be fair, was quite a good game.

Beyond that, though, he had only seen summaries of the movies and, while he'd considered reading the original series a few times, the sheer length and depth of the story had always been a deterrent. He simply couldn't find the time; traditional stories like that demanded immersion, which was hard to come by.

Having pieced together this much, Andrew took advantage of the moment before they started talking to discreetly study Professor McGonagall as she conversed with Madam Camille.

'She doesn't quite look like it, but the air about her is definitely spot-on.'

'Does that mean what I've been calling telekinesis is actually magic?'

'Well, the good news is that training this "magic" can now be guided by established methods, so there's less chance of making mistakes. The downside is that this "unique power" has been mass-produced.'

'But none of that matters right now. What I need to do is pretend to know nothing and keep going as if this is all new… because there's no way I could know anything about their school.'

While he was quickly steadying his thoughts, Professor McGonagall had managed to persuade Madam Camille to step out of the room. She turned to Andrew, drew her wand, and gave it a slight flick.

The chair between them transformed instantly into a goat, which promptly tore off a piece of paper from the desk and began munching on it.

However, the look of amazement she'd expected didn't appear. Instead, Andrew, after a brief pause, smacked the goat on the head and quickly snatched back the half-eaten sheet of paper.

"Your power is certainly impressive," he said, a hint of exasperation in his voice, "but I don't think you needed to use something I spent half the day working on as proof."

Fortunately, the paper had only contained some notes on language study. If it had been anything else—well, he would have put it away, not left it on the desk.

He pushed the paper back and kept a firm hand on the now-docile goat. "Very remarkable ability. What exactly is this called? Oh, I mean… what do you call it? Telekinesis, powers, inner strength, magic, source energy, or something else?"

Without waiting for McGonagall to respond, he eyed the goat and added quickly in a somewhat breathless tone, "I've read many books on different kinds of fantasy powers, each with its own terminology, so I'm quite open-minded about this sort of thing—especially since I seem to have a bit of it myself."

Talking so much upon first meeting someone was considered quite impolite. Usually, listening attentively and giving short, affirming responses like "I see," "Really?" or "Interesting" would facilitate a conversation much more smoothly.

But he had to do it; the string of questions bought him more time to calm down.

"Ah, apologies," Andrew added, feigning a mix of nervousness and excitement. "I might be a little too enthusiastic, asking so much at once."

"It's quite alright; that's only natural," Professor McGonagall nodded. "Hogwarts, the school you'll be attending, is a school of magic. You'll study magic there alongside many other children your age."

"A school for magic?" Andrew didn't need to fake his excitement as he let it show. "That's fantastic! But… can I afford the tuition?"

"There's no need for that. Hogwarts doesn't charge tuition."

Professor McGonagall had not quite expected this question, though it was only a small surprise.

"What about books, boarding, meals, uniforms?" he asked sincerely, as he genuinely didn't know. "I'm sorry, ma'am, perhaps I'm asking a bit much, but I really might not be able to afford all the costs."

"And one more thing, ma'am. Where is this school located? Which currency does it use, and what's the exchange rate? Is it a boarding school? Does it have any pathways to higher education?"

This wasn't an act; these were genuine questions. Sincerity, after all, was the best disguise.

'This child could maybe even help out around the office…'

McGonagall didn't feel even remotely offended by his questions.

In fact, she envisioned him as an intern at Hogwarts, an exceptionally competent one.

With Dumbledore shirking so many of his duties, most of the administrative tasks had fallen to her. She had occasionally used senior students to help with small office tasks, but they often left within a year for outside internships or, in the case of graduates, for permanent positions.

An assistant who could help from their first year on, someone reliable with a good reputation, with a meticulous eye… well, that would be ideal.

Thus, she happily began to address Andrew's many questions.

But, to her surprise, more questions kept coming.

"Wonderful… but, Professor, I actually have some things I'd love to understand about magic, specifically that goat. Is it fully transformed into a goat? Is the transformation permanent, or is it temporary or conditional?"

"I could feel the warmth and blood flow—is it fully a goat, or does it just look like one? Will its heart rate or blood flow change if it starts moving?"

"And when the transformation wears off, what happens to the things it ate? Are they stored inside the original chair, do they fall out, or do they just disappear?"

Forget about the internship…

Even Britain's second-best Transfiguration professor felt overwhelmed by these questions.

"You'll need to start with the basics of Transfiguration and read a fair amount of theoretical material before tackling any of those questions."

"In magic, imagination isn't the biggest danger—it's venturing into the unknown well beyond what you've learned. Transfiguration accidents are among the most common magical mishaps."

"Now, come along. I'll take you to Diagon Alley, and we can discuss things on the way. There are a lot of questions, but I'll try to explain in a way you'll understand. But there's one thing you must remember above all else."

McGonagall's expression grew serious.

"In magic, experimenting recklessly with the unknown is extremely dangerous. Nothing should ever be taken for granted, and leaping too far into the unknown is absolutely forbidden."

(End of Chapter)