The History of Magic class ended, and George was no longer alone. Instead, he was surrounded by curious young wizards.
"Did you really memorize that many books on magic?"
"Yes, my memory isn't bad."
"Is it true that you plan to help Slytherin win the House Cup?"
"Of course."
On the way back, George responded to the questions from his fellow first-year Slytherins with ease, maintaining a confident but not arrogant demeanor. This quickly won him favor, and he effortlessly bonded with them.
Even the three roommates who had been beaten up by him previously now looked at him with admiration in their eyes.
That's the way Slytherin worked. As long as you were part of Slytherin and could prove your excellence by bringing them honor and benefits, they would instinctively rally around you.
For George, a first-year student, earning a staggering fifty points for Slytherin in the very first class was a feat that made the entire first-year group feel proud.
Of course, if George wanted to truly become a leader within Slytherin, this achievement alone was far from enough. But at least it was a promising start.
The story of George earning fifty points for Slytherin during the History of Magic class spread quickly, becoming known to most of the school's teachers and students.
Normally, it wouldn't have spread so fast. But given that Professor Binns was notoriously stingy with awarding points, and combined with the lingering buzz from George's morning speech, it created the perfect storm.
The benefit of this was evident when George sat in the Slytherin common room reading in the evening. Even upper-year Slytherins occasionally approached him to introduce themselves.
Even Draco Malfoy, who might have wanted to cause trouble for George, was stopped by a prefect.
...
..
.
The next day's first two classes were Transfiguration, taken alongside Hufflepuff's first years.
As soon as George entered the classroom, he noticed Hufflepuff students casting curious glances his way. Clearly, they too had heard about his impressive feat of earning fifty points for Slytherin the previous day.
However, true to their nature, the Hufflepuff students didn't provoke him. Most were simply intrigued.
"Meow!"
Just as the Transfiguration class was about to start, a tabby cat strolled into the classroom, prompting gasps from the young wizards as it transformed into Professor McGonagall in her emerald-green robes.
"An Animagus transformation," George muttered, his eyes gleaming with interest.
It was a highly advanced form of Transfiguration that allowed a wizard to take the form of a single animal. Though limited to non-magical creatures, George still found it incredibly useful.
The ability to transform into an ordinary animal provided excellent opportunities for disguise, whether for gathering intelligence, escaping, or tracking.
He imagined scenarios where Animagus abilities would be invaluable: being pursued by a swarm of agents under satellite surveillance, with snipers stationed far away and no escape routes in sight. With Animagus transformation, he could slip into a building and transform into an inconspicuous animal to escape.
Even something as mundane as a fly, mosquito, or ladybug would ensure complete evasion.
"Transfiguration is one of the most complex and dangerous subjects you will learn at Hogwarts. Anyone caught misbehaving in my class will be expelled and barred from returning.
You have been warned!"
Professor McGonagall strode to the podium, her voice stern as she delivered a sharp warning. With a wave of her wand, she effortlessly transformed the podium into a pig, then back into a podium again.
The students were captivated, eager to begin learning this fascinating branch of magic.
However, as McGonagall delved into the theory during the lesson, the young wizards quickly realized how challenging it was to turn an entire podium into a pig.
George was equally impressed, marveling at the skill of a true master.
Transfiguration had been separated from other spellwork to form its own discipline, underscoring its advanced nature.
Though he had spent considerable time studying the subject and memorized the textbook—using a computer to assist with his studies in magical history—many aspects still eluded him.
Even after consulting Tonks and receiving explanations, he had struggled to fully grasp certain concepts.
It was akin to studying advanced mathematics: memorizing formulas and theorems didn't guarantee understanding or high scores.
But under Professor McGonagall's expert guidance, George found his understanding of Transfiguration taking a significant leap forward.
"Slytherin, five points!"
As the first class drew to a close, Professor McGonagall posed questions to the students. George, naturally, rose to the occasion and earned five points for his house.
Thanks to his exceptional memory and the assistance of his computer for note-taking, he was well-prepared. He even noted down McGonagall's scolding word for word.
Unlike Professor Snape, who was often biased, McGonagall prided herself on fairness and impartiality. She didn't withhold points simply because George was a Slytherin.
In fact, she smiled faintly, impressed by George's flawless answers and his unique insights into Transfiguration.
The second class was a practical lesson.
Professor McGonagall handed each student a matchstick, tasking them with transforming it into a needle using a basic Transfiguration spell.
This, however, proved a daunting challenge for most of the students. They repeated the incantation and waved their wands, but the matchsticks remained unchanged. Only a few with natural talent managed minor transformations, falling short of fully transforming the matchsticks into needles.
"Don't give up. Keep practicing. Remember the key points I taught you last class: the speed and rhythm of the incantation, the angle of your wand movement, and most importantly, belief in your ability to succeed," McGonagall encouraged as she moved around the classroom, correcting the students' mistakes.
When she reached George's desk, her eyes lit up.
"Slytherin, another five points!"
On George's desk lay a perfect needle, its tip sharp and its eye flawlessly crafted.
The other students glanced over, their faces filled with admiration and envy.
George, meanwhile, merely smiled.
Through McGonagall's lesson, George had grasped a crucial insight into Transfiguration—and perhaps magic in general.
The true key was belief. While incantations and wands served as tools, the essence of magic lay in the power of the mind and spirit.
This made sense in the context of the Harry Potter universe, where magic often operated on a deeply intuitive, belief-driven level.
With his own psychic abilities as a secondary-level mutant, George found himself uniquely advantaged.
After just a few attempts, he successfully transformed the matchstick into a needle.
He even suspected that with his mental strength, he might surpass the standard limitations of first-year students. While transforming something as large as a podium into a pig might be beyond him for now, he was confident he could manage transformations of objects the size of a fist.