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Chapter 116: Magical Transfiguration
🕑 Added 2025-11-10 10:07:00 +0000 UTCChapter 116: Magical Transfiguration
October was nearly over, swept away by wind and rain. November was approaching, and Hogwarts castle felt as cold as forged iron. A hard frost coated the grounds each morning, and the icy wind cut at exposed hands and faces. The sky, and the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall, had settled into a permanent, pale slate-grey. The mountains surrounding the school wore caps of snow, and the temperature inside the castle had dropped so much that many students now wore thick, dragon-hide gloves between classes.
Sean stood in the drafty corridor, his breath pluming in white clouds. He knocked softly on the familiar wooden door.
"Mr. Green, I've told you," a warm, though stern, voice called from within, "there's no need to knock. Come in, child."
Sean pushed the door open. He appreciated the gesture, but he wasn't about to change his habit. A professor's office was a private space. Just because she had given him access didn't mean he could barge in.
The fireplace in the office was, as always, burning cheerfully. Professor McGonagall seemed busier than ever these days, sitting at her tall desk, quill flying as she graded assignments or processed student disciplinary forms. She seemed to be preparing for something.
"Regarding the transformation of 'self' into an 'animate' object, Mr. Green... that requires extreme caution. Therefore, today we will focus on the transformation of 'objects' into 'magic'."
Professor McGonagall set aside her grading. With a sharp flick of her wand, a jet of flame leaped from the hearth, licking at the air, almost reaching Sean's face. With another precise wave, the flame twisted into the shape of a lizard, which scurried back into the fireplace and vanished.
"This form of Advanced Transfiguration," she explained, "requires a stronger will and a higher level of magical power. Most importantly, when you imbue your chosen object with magic… you must believe it already possesses that magic inherently."
Her words, which he had already read in her notes, resonated more deeply now.
"Today, you will learn to imbue the fire in that hearth with such 'magic'."
Professor McGonagall's gaze softened. In just three weeks, the boy had not only memorized the two notebooks she had given him but had also read through three supplemental Transfiguration textbooks. She couldn't recall the last time she'd seen him in the corridor without a book in his hand. Most sixth-years would be lucky to finish one of those texts in three weeks.
Sean, intrigued, stepped closer to the fireplace. The flames flared suddenly, making him flinch back. He clutched his notebook, the words on the page glowing faintly in the firelight: [A clear and specific intent, unwavering belief, and sufficient willpower] – the core tenets of Transfiguration, according to McGonagall.
He raised his wand. At the 'Expert' level he was approaching, incantations were becoming less necessary. The fire leaped at his gesture. He focused, imagining the flames dancing, guiding a small tendril out from the hearth as the professor had instructed. The first step was surprisingly easy.
[You have practiced an Advanced Transfiguration to the Apprentice standard. Proficiency +30]
[You have practiced an Advanced Transfiguration to the Apprentice standard. Proficiency +30]
Within minutes, Sean could make a small flame dance and weave at the tip of his wand. It was a tiny wisp, but it made Professor McGonagall smile.
"Very good, Mr. Green. Now, try to control a larger flame..."
When Sean left the office later, he knew he had officially stepped across the threshold into Advanced Transfiguration. He was leagues behind the professor's fire-lizard, of course, but it was a start. As McGonagall had said, "Most wizards fail to elicit any response from the flames on their first attempt. It often takes a month of steady practice to achieve what you just did…"
He suspected his rapid progress was due to his title:
[Title: Transfiguration Master]
[Effect: Significantly improves unique perception of inanimate-to-magical transformations.]
That perception helped him find the "knack" for making the flames obey.
Long after he had gone, the fire in the Transfiguration office continued to blaze. With a wave of the professor's wand, her desk drawer transfigured into a small, elegant pig, which trotted over and presented her with a thick envelope. Seeing the parchment inside, her expression softened even further.
In the corridor, Sean pulled on his thick gloves and adjusted his scarf, pulling it up over his nose so he could see his notes. The book had a plain black cover, the first page filled with warnings – Professor Flitwick's personal notes on the Dark Arts.
While Dumbledore might be… uneasy… about the subject, Sean wouldn't abandon it. As Flitwick himself had said, "The Dark Arts are like a blade. Their nature is tied to the user's intent." Besides, his proficiency in the Dark Arts grew incredibly fast – and extra tools in his arsenal were never a bad thing.
Another reason was Flitwick himself, who had taken charge of Sean's Dark Arts education. "Marvelous! Oh, truly astonishing talent…" the Charms Master would mutter, pacing his classroom as he watched Sean practice. "Yes, best I keep a close eye on this one… good thing it's young Green…" He would then wave his wand, repairing the books and furniture Sean had just blasted across the room.
Sean's practice now took place almost exclusively under Flitwick's direct supervision.
[You have practiced the Knockback Jinx to the Expert standard. Proficiency +50]
[You have practiced the Knockback Jinx to the Master standard. Proficiency +300]
As dusk fell, Sean left the Charms classroom. He opened his Panel:
[Evaluation: You are a prodigy of historical rarity in the Dark Arts. Dark Magic readily embraces you. You are a natural-born Lord of the Dark Arts.]
Sean quickly scrolled past that ridiculous statement.
[Knockback Jinx: Expert (10/30000)]
At the 'Expert' level, the Knockback Jinx was now instantaneous and non-verbal. Combined with his versatile Levitation Charm, Sean's combat prowess had grown to a level that clearly impressed Flitwick – he could likely catch an adult wizard off guard.
"An unsettling talent, is it not, Filius?" an aged voice murmured from the corner of the empty classroom.
"Perhaps," Flitwick chirped, his whiskers twitching with pride. "But in a most reassuring wizard."
Dumbledore, standing in the shadows, simply nodded.
(End of Chapter)
