Amid the sound of books being thrown to the ground, nearly half of the students quietly left the classroom. However, Jacob appeared unfazed, maintaining his smile.
It was only after the remaining students had discarded their books that he lowered his head and spoke calmly:
"Transfiguration is the closest discipline to the essence of all things. To understand the world, to comprehend all things, and ultimately, to master them.
Those who know nothing of the world, who are arrogant in their ignorance, or who fail to listen to the desires of all things—such wizards have strayed from the path of Transfiguration from the moment of their birth."
His words left the students dumbfounded. Those who had shown dissatisfaction earlier now sat up straighter in their seats. This guy might actually know what he's talking about, Hoffa thought.
Jacob spoke slowly: "But between being controlled and gaining mastery over others, there is an inevitable dividing line—that is mastering oneself."
A faint gasp arose among the students.
"And," Jacob continued, "to master oneself, one must first understand oneself."
The room fell into complete silence.
Jacob asked, "Do you understand yourselves?"
The students exchanged glances. Some looked excited, some confused, and others remained silent.
Jacob's gaze swept across the room, pausing briefly on Hoffa before moving on. Finally, he said, "For the first lesson, I won't teach you magic.
"I want to know—what is the thing each of you most desires to do?"
Immediately, a hand shot up. It was a Gryffindor student in a red robe.
Jacob nodded with a pleased smile. "Go ahead."
The Gryffindor student stood up and boldly declared, "I want to become the Minister of Magic!"
Such an audacious statement drew laughter from everyone present.
"Moyes, have you gone mad?"
"Your dad's a doorman at the Ministry!"
"Hahaha!"
The defiant boy stared stubbornly at his peers, but the Transfiguration professor clapped his hands. "Power is the best ladder for progress. It seems you know yourself well enough. I'm very pleased with this answer."
The Gryffindor student sat down, beaming. Jacob scanned the room again, and a timid hand rose.
He nodded, and a short-haired boy wearing patched, second-hand clothes stood up.
"What do you want to do?" Jacob's voice carried a magnetic charm.
The boy said, "I want to be rich enough to buy Gringotts."
Laughter erupted once more, filling the classroom with joy. This time, there were not only mocking laughs but also strange boos. Even the boy himself grinned awkwardly, as though realizing how absurd his dream sounded.
Jacob didn't stop the students from jeering.
When the noise finally subsided, he looked at the boy with approval. "Excellent. Money is the greatest illusion. Master it, and you'll control 80% of your destiny."
Encouraged by the lack of rejection for his wildest dream, the boy blushed with excitement and nodded before sitting down.
The professor's attitude left the other students somewhat bewildered.
At this point, a girl raised her hand.
Jacob asked, "What's your dream?"
The black-haired girl stood up, her face flushed as she shyly said, "I want to date Hoffa."
The room erupted in chaos, almost blowing the roof off with the noise. Both the boys and girls booed her loudly.
Hoffa, lost in thought, snapped back to reality, nearly tripping over himself. He couldn't believe he was being dragged into this.
Jacob burst out laughing. "You're very brave. But this dream may require more than just your efforts, right?"
The girl fidgeted, nodding bashfully, her fingers twisting the fabric of her school robe as she stared unblinkingly at the figure in the corner.
Miranda chuckled, nudging Hoffa with her elbow. He turned to glare at her in annoyance.
"Don't be rude," Miranda whispered. "At least look at her."
Reluctantly, Hoffa raised his head and glanced at the plain-looking Hufflepuff girl. He nodded politely, clasped his hands together, and bowed at a full ninety degrees, conveying his sincere apology.
The Hufflepuff girl, either misunderstanding the gesture or simply unbothered, beamed with joy at the response. She sat back down, chatting happily with her friends.
Meanwhile, Aglaia crossed her arms, her expression twisting as if she were chewing on a slug-flavored gumdrop. She glared at Hoffa with a look of utter disdain and disgust.
The classroom was now completely energized. Before Jacob could ask another question, hands shot up all around the room, each student eager to share their wildest dreams.
Jacob didn't disappoint them. Picking up the class roster, he began calling on students one by one.
"I want my family to be healthy."
"I want to be a general."
"I want to captain a ghost ship."
"I want to explore every corner of the Earth."
"I want to become the king of wizard rock."
"I want to be the greatest Quidditch Beater."
The students seemed to have increasingly grand ambitions, though some had simpler goals.
"I want to marry a handsome guy."
"I want to marry ten handsome guys."
"Hahaha, I want to marry a hundred handsome guys!"
No matter what the students said—be it Minister of Magic or marrying a hundred men—Jacob's smile never faltered. His demeanor radiated a warmth that made it impossible not to feel goodwill toward him.
Amid the lively atmosphere, Jacob eventually reached the middle of the roster, arriving at the three students sitting in the corner.
While the rest of the class was animated, Hoffa's group remained calm and composed. Miranda, after nudging Hoffa earlier, had grown distant and quiet, her expression indifferent. Aglaia, arms crossed, continued glaring at the giggling girls in the distance, her blue eyes flashing with irritation.
Jacob set down the roster and turned to ask, "Miss Goshawk, what do you want to do in the future?"
"I want to travel the world and understand everything," Miranda replied coolly.
"An observer, then?"
Jacob immediately asked.
Miranda paused briefly, then nodded.
"Something like that."
"You're already halfway there," Jacob said with an approving nod.
Then, he turned his gaze to Aglaia with a gentle smile and asked, "What about you, Aglaia?"
Aglaia looked at Jacob, her expression slightly confused. After a moment, she scratched her head and said, "I want to be happy."
A low hum arose among the students.
However, most of these sounds were gasps of surprise rather than mockery. Perhaps her background made others hesitant to judge her. If she truly desired happiness, maybe she could indeed find joy every day.
"Of all the dreams, this one is the hardest to achieve," Jacob sighed softly. "The world is half pain and half joy—no one can escape this balance."
Aglaia shrugged without responding, seemingly indifferent to his answer.
Finally, after questioning everyone else, Jacob turned his attention to Hoffa.
"Bach, what do you want to do in the future?"
In that moment, his voice seemed to carry a peculiar mental forcefield, leaving Hoffa no room to evade the question—it hit him head-on.
As the Transfiguration professor spoke, Hoffa felt a pang of unease. He suddenly realized he had never truly considered this question before. What did he want to do in the future? What did he want to become?
This abrupt inquiry left him more unsettled than the earlier, unexpected confession of admiration.
The room seemed to stretch infinitely, becoming vast and boundless. The classmates nearby seemed to drift farther and farther away, their voices fading into the distance.
What do you want to do in the future?
What do you want to do in the future?
Survive and grow stronger?
After two years of magical training, survival in this chaotic world no longer seemed like an issue. But merely surviving didn't feel like enough.
What did he truly want to do in the future?
Hoffa began searching his soul for an answer.
Earn lots of money? That might appeal to many, but why did it feel so uninspiring?
Become Minister of Magic? That seemed tiring—he didn't particularly enjoy sitting around a table with a group of people discussing politics.
Become a famous wizard? The mere thought of a few admirers at school already irritated him. How could he possibly handle standing on a stage singing and dancing?
As his thoughts spiraled, Hoffa couldn't find a definitive answer.
Meanwhile, the entire class was watching him.
Jacob's gaze remained fixed on him, unblinking.
After nearly half a minute, Hoffa finally looked up and said slowly and earnestly, "Perhaps... I want to become someone different."
"And how do you define 'different'?"
"I don't know."
Hoffa scratched his head, feeling genuinely at a loss. He didn't have a clear answer or a specific goal.
Money, power, fame—all these tangible ambitions felt like shackles, making it difficult for him to articulate them.
He lowered his head again, delving deeper into his thoughts in search of an answer.
At that moment, a faint voice echoed in his heart:
"I want to change the world. I want to make the world turn according to my will."
Startled, Hoffa froze.
Perhaps all the dreams shared by his classmates combined weren't as outrageous as his own.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he met the Transfiguration professor's smiling eyes.
Looking around the room and hesitating for a moment, Hoffa eventually shook his head.
"For now, I haven't figured it out."
"It seems you lack a definite answer, which is truly a sad thing," Jacob said softly.
After a pause, Jacob asked, "Then, what do you think of reality?"
This question was directed at Hoffa. As Jacob spoke, the entire class fell silent, as if they had turned into voiceless potted plants.
"Reality?"
Hoffa's heart stirred. He felt as though he had tuned into the same wavelength as this teacher, like two blue whales communicating in the depths of the ocean.
"Yes, reality—the truth that flows behind all things," Jacob said earnestly.
Hoffa's interest was piqued. He wanted to ask the Transfiguration professor what exactly "reality" was.
But just as his curiosity rose, the peculiar teacher shifted his focus to another student, moving on to ask about their dreams.
The abrupt change left Hoffa feeling a hollow emptiness, as though a question had been snatched away before it could be answered.
At that moment, a quiet, mocking voice came from beside him.
"Can't even perform in a school play, but wants to be 'different.' Keep dreaming."
It was Aglaia. She cast a cold glance at Hoffa before turning away.
Hoffa raised an eyebrow but didn't dwell on her comment.
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