“That will be all for today.
Anyone who has not chosen a class may continue next lesson or visit my office for guidance.
Class dismissed.” The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom filled with noise as students packed their books and hurried toward the Great Hall for dinner.
Harry and Ron had already reached the door when they noticed Hermione walking toward Professor Cromwell with several textbooks held against her chest.
“Is there something else you need, Miss Granger?” Leon asked.
“I have a question, Professor.” Hermione sounded unusually hesitant.
Ever since openly challenging Leon during his first lesson, she had never felt entirely comfortable approaching him alone.
“I’ll be happy to answer it.” Leon had long since forgotten their earlier disagreement.
Hermione placed The Adventurer’s Handbook on his desk and opened it to a marked page.
“What is the difference between the first-circle spell [Disguise Self] and Polyjuice Potion?” “An excellent question.” Leon gave her an approving smile.
“Both allow someone to appear as another person.
The final result may look similar, but the methods are completely different.” He closed the other books on his desk.
“Polyjuice Potion temporarily transforms your physical body.
That makes it extremely effective, but also dangerous.
A mistake during brewing can cause severe damage.
Even using the wrong type of hair can produce disastrous results.” Hermione remembered the complexity of the recipe and nodded.
“The potion’s greatest advantage is that the transformation is real,” Leon continued.
“Your height, facial structure, voice, and physical features change.
Most ordinary detection spells cannot expose you.
However, the potion cannot copy memories, habits, or personality.” “And [Disguise Self]?” Hermione asked.
“First tell me which school of magic it belongs to.” “Illusion.” Hermione had already read the handbook several times.
“Correct.
Illusion magic deceives the senses rather than changing reality.” Leon raised his wand.
“[Minor Illusion].” A flock of tiny blue birds flew from the wand tip.
They circled above Hermione’s head before passing through her body and fading into sparks.
“This cantrip only creates a false image.
You can see the birds, but they have no physical substance.
You felt nothing when they passed through you.” Hermione watched the final sparks disappear.
“[Disguise Self] works through the same principle,” Leon explained.
“The illusion covers your body and follows your movements.
It is far more complex than [Minor Illusion], but it still does not alter your real shape.” “So physical contact can reveal the deception,” Hermione said.
“If someone touches a face that looks wider than it really is, their hand may pass through the illusion.” “Exactly.” Leon nodded.
“Polyjuice Potion provides a stronger disguise.
[Disguise Self] is faster and more convenient.
It requires no rare ingredients and does not take a month to prepare.” “I understand now.
Thank you, Professor Cromwell.” Hermione left the classroom and joined Harry and Ron outside.
Two days later, she sat in a corner of the Gryffindor common room with a mountain of parchment spread across the table.
She had sighed so many times that Harry and Ron no longer knew what to say.
They remained nearby and spoke in low voices because neither wanted to disturb her concentration.
The parchment sheets were covered with three-dimensional coordinates, geometric structures, and arcane calculations.
Any ordinary wizard might have mistaken them for advanced academic research.
“This doesn’t make sense.” Hermione dragged both hands through her hair and made it even more tangled.
“It makes absolutely no sense.” She closed her eyes.
A complex spell model shaped like an icosahedron appeared clearly within her mind.
Every angle matched the example from Leon’s textbook.
Each arcane line rested in the correct position.
Hermione opened her eyes and raised her wand with perfect precision.
“[Disguise Self].” Two seconds passed.
Nothing happened.
Hermione remained exactly the same.
“I failed again.” She collapsed against the back of her chair.
“I memorized the entire model.
Every measurement is correct.
Why won’t the magic respond?” “Maybe you should take a break,” Harry suggested.
“A break?” Hermione turned toward him.
“The basilisk isn’t going to take a break.
If we don’t learn something from Malfoy soon, someone else could be attacked.” Her eyes narrowed.
“How is your practice going, Harry?” Harry’s expression immediately became awkward.
“Well…” “You haven’t practiced?” “I did try after you told me about the spell.” Hermione stared at him.
“You succeeded?” Harry gave a reluctant nod.
It was the first time since they became friends that he had learned a spell faster than Hermione.
“Show me.” Her disappointment disappeared beneath intense curiosity.
Harry stood and placed his wand on the table.
“I’m not sure I can do it again.” Hermione leaned forward.
She watched every movement with complete concentration.
Perhaps Harry used a unique wrist motion or followed an unusual magical path.
Harry did nothing complicated.
He closed his eyes for several seconds.
Then he waved his wand in a loose motion.
“[Disguise Self].” Poof!
Magical light rolled over his body.
Harry disappeared and a tall Slytherin student took his place.
Hermione immediately recognized Gregory Goyle.
However, something about the disguise looked terribly wrong.
The figure still had Goyle’s broad shoulders and heavy build.
Yet his dull expression and rough features were gone.
His skin appeared smooth.
His jaw was sharp and his short bowl cut had transformed into neatly styled hair that gleamed in the firelight.
His small eyes had also become a striking shade of emerald green.
“How does it look?” Harry asked.
His new voice sounded deep and strangely confident.
“Did it work?” Ron spat pumpkin juice across his History of Magic essay.
He slid from the armchair and rolled across the carpet while clutching his stomach.
“You look like Goyle!” Ron gasped between bursts of laughter.
“But if Goyle really looked like that, Pansy Parkinson would send him love letters by breakfast!” Hermione did not laugh.
Harry’s version was imperfect, but the spell had worked.
“How did you do it?” she demanded.
“Did you construct the model differently?
Was it the wand movement or the pronunciation?” “I don’t know.” Harry dismissed the illusion and returned to normal.
“I pictured Goyle in my mind.
Then I imagined becoming him and pushed my magic toward that image.” “You used imagination?” Hermione stood so quickly that the parchment scattered across the table.
“That shouldn’t work.” She gathered her calculations and shoved them inside a book.
“I’m going to see Professor Cromwell.” “At this hour?” Ron asked.
Hermione was already climbing through the portrait hole.
Ron shook his head.
“Poor Professor Cromwell.” Ten minutes later, Hermione stood inside the Defense Against the Dark Arts office and explained everything that had happened.
“So Mr.
Potter succeeded,” Leon said.
“Though his spell included an unexpected cosmetic improvement.
Meanwhile, you still cannot activate the model.” “Yes, Professor.” Hermione stared at the floor.
“Maybe I don’t have the talent for this kind of magic.
I memorized the complete structure and checked every detail.” “Your problem is the opposite.” Leon placed his quill on the desk.
“You are too intelligent and too precise to cast the spell the way Harry does.” Hermione looked up.
“Harry follows the path of a Sorcerer.
His magic rises from instinct and natural power.
Imagination and emotion guide his casting, so he does not need to understand every principle.” Leon leaned back in his chair.
“That method is fast but imprecise.
He imagined Goyle while unconsciously adding qualities he found appealing.
His magic followed the emotion and created a more attractive version.” Hermione glanced at her pages of calculations.
“Wizards are different,” Leon continued.
“Our spellcasting is deliberate.
Every part of the effect can be controlled.
That precision allows us to learn more spells and shape them in ways most Sorcerers cannot.” He pointed toward the geometric drawings.
“You are treating the spell like a math problem.
You believe the effect should appear once every number and angle is correct.” “Shouldn’t it?” “The spell model is only the framework.” Leon’s voice softened.
“A Wizard must also reach the Weave.” “The Weave?” Hermione repeated.
“Close your eyes.” Leon moved from behind the desk and stood beside her.
“Forget the incantation.
Stop thinking about the diagrams.
Allow your mind to become quiet.” Hermione obeyed.
“Imagine yourself inside a vast library or any place where you feel comfortable.
Then look beyond the room with your magical senses.” At first, Hermione perceived only darkness.
She slowly stopped reciting formulas inside her mind.
Instead, she focused on the energy moving through the air.
Then she felt something.
The darkness filled with the scent of old parchment and fresh ink.
It was the familiar fragrance of knowledge and books.
Countless silver threads began to glow.
They crossed in every direction but formed no chaos.
Each strand followed a precise pattern.
They resembled shining equations and geometric laws woven into an endless network.
Every vibration produced a clear note like the string of a harp.
“I can see it,” Hermione whispered.
Wonder spread across her face.
“Silver threads.
They look like music and constellations.
Everything follows a pattern.” “That is the Weave.” Leon’s voice seemed to come from far away.
“A Sorcerer reaches into it through instinct.
A Wizard studies the structure and weaves its threads into a spell.” Hermione’s breathing slowed.
“Now bring the [Disguise Self] model into your mind.
Do not treat it as a finished shape.
See it as an empty framework.” The geometric structure appeared before her.
“Use your wand to touch the Weave.” Hermione raised her hand.
Her wrist no longer moved in stiff memorized motions.
The wand tip gently reached toward the silver threads.
She found one strand that represented light and shadow.
Another carried the concept of perception.
Hermione drew them together.
She twisted the threads through the spell model and secured them in place.
Every motion felt natural.
The process resembled solving an enormous puzzle where each answer created the next step.
No energy was wasted.
The final strand settled into position.
The entire model lit up.
Hermione whispered the last command.
“[Disguise Self].” Cool magic flowed across her body like water.
This time the power remained completely under her control.
Hermione opened her eyes and looked toward the full-length mirror beside the wall.
Professor McGonagall stared back at her.
Every detail appeared perfect.
The stern eyes, tightly arranged hair, and severe lines around the mouth had all been reproduced.
Leon applauded.
“Excellent.” Hermione almost jumped with joy.
Then a mischievous idea entered her mind.
“Thank you for your guidance, Professor Cromwell.” She bowed without dismissing the spell.
Hermione adjusted her collar and straightened her posture.
Her excited expression disappeared and was replaced by Professor McGonagall’s familiar severity.
“I believe I should inspect the discipline inside Gryffindor Tower.” Even her voice sounded remarkably similar.
Leon smiled and waved toward the door.
“Go ahead.
Try not to deduct too many house points.” Ten minutes later, the Gryffindor common room had become quiet.
Most students had returned to their dormitories.
Harry and Ron remained near the fireplace with several older Gryffindors.
Ron lay across a sofa and tossed a Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Bean between his fingers.
“Hermione was in a hurry,” he said.
“I wouldn’t visit a professor this late unless someone was dying.” He placed the bean in his mouth.
“Do you think Professor Cromwell will scold her?” The portrait hole opened.
The remaining conversations stopped at once.
A tall witch wearing green tartan robes entered the common room.
Professor McGonagall surveyed the students with her usual severe expression.
Ron felt the sudden silence and looked up.
The bean lodged in his throat.
He coughed violently and jumped from the sofa.
After several desperate strikes against his chest, he managed to swallow it.
“Professor McGonagall?” His voice trembled.
“What are you doing here?” Harry quickly hid the Potions essay he had borrowed from Hermione behind his back.
“Potter.
Weasley.” The disguised Hermione approached them and examined the mess covering the table.
“Look at the condition of this common room.” Her voice was sharp and cold.
“Mr.
Weasley, your tie is crooked and your robes are stained with pumpkin juice.
Is that your History of Magic essay beneath those candy wrappers?” “I’m sorry, Professor!” Ron stood perfectly straight.
“I’ll clean everything.
Then I’ll go to bed right away.” “And you, Potter.” She turned toward Harry.
“I have heard that you are making impressive progress in Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Does learning one spell excuse you from completing your written assignments?” “No, Professor.” Harry straightened as well.
Hermione looked at the two frightened boys.
Her lips tightened while her shoulders began to shake.
Ron assumed she was trembling with fury.
“Professor, we really are sorry.
Please don’t take points.” Hermione could no longer hold back.
A burst of magic passed across her body.
Professor McGonagall vanished and Hermione appeared in her place.
She clutched the back of the sofa while laughing.
“You should have seen your faces!” Tears gathered in her eyes.
“‘Please don’t take points, Professor!'” “Hermione!” Ron stared at her for several seconds before pointing furiously.
“That was not funny!
I almost had a heart attack!” Harry released a long breath and collapsed onto the sofa.
“You looked exactly like her.
Even your voice was perfect.” “Sorry.” Hermione wiped the tears from her cheeks.
Her face carried a confidence neither boy had seen before.
She raised her wand with an elegant and precise motion.
“We’re ready to get information from Malfoy.” Enjoyed the chapter?
A review helps a lot.
P1treon: