“Transfiguration is the most complex and the most dangerous magic you will study at Hogwarts.”
Professor McGonagall paced slowly across the classroom as she spoke.
“Anyone who feels inclined to fool around in my class will be asked to leave—and will never be allowed back.
You have been warned.”
With a light flick of her wand, the teacher’s desk before the students instantly transformed into a pig.
It lasted only a few seconds before, amid the students’ astonished gasps, it reverted back into a desk.
The demonstration immediately captivated the entire class.
Who could have imagined that an inanimate object could be completely transformed through such exquisite Transfiguration?
After the demonstration, Professor McGonagall handed each student a matchstick and proceeded to explain the basic theories and techniques behind Transfiguration.
The rest of the lesson would be spent attempting to transform their own matchsticks.
The mechanics of Transfiguration were surprisingly simple.
It required no incantation.
Instead, it was an instinctive ability unique to wizards.
They analyzed and understood the object before them in their minds, then used their magic to reshape it into something else.
It was an almost inconceivable process, much like molding clay into a living person.
The only difference was that maintaining a Transfiguration required the wizard’s magical power, meaning no transformation could be permanent.
A sculpture made from clay remained forever, but a transformed object would eventually revert once the magic disappeared.
The students eagerly picked up their wands and stared at the matchsticks in front of them.
Magical things naturally attracted everyone’s curiosity, but actually performing the spell proved to be an entirely different matter.
Harry, for example, tried again and again but couldn’t make his matchstick change according to his wishes.
It wasn’t because he lacked magical power—he simply didn’t know how to construct the proper mental framework for Transfiguration.
“Miss Granger has done very well.
The tip of her matchstick has already become pointed.
Everyone, come take a look.”
Malfoy continuously waved his wand, pouring magic into his matchstick, yet it remained completely unchanged.
Meanwhile, Hermione shyly accepted the attention from the class.
“That filthy Mudblood…”
Malfoy cursed inwardly.
He had disliked Hermione ever since meeting her.
In his eyes, she was a witch born from pure Muggle blood, someone of disgracefully low status.
Yet somehow she had managed to stay so close to Young Master Adrian.
If Father hadn’t repeatedly warned me to uphold the dignity of the Malfoy family, I’d definitely teach her a lesson.
Wait…
where’s Young Master Adrian?
The thought crossed Malfoy’s mind, and he turned his head.
Adrian was staring at his matchstick with a slight frown, making no move whatsoever.
He hadn’t even drawn his wand.
“Young Master Adrian, why aren’t you giving it a try?” Malfoy asked.
At that moment, however, Adrian was occupied with a far more complicated question.
“Oh.
I was thinking about something.”
He slowly drew his purple sandalwood wand.
Not far away, Ron watched with obvious disdain.
Putting on an act.
Sure, you’re talented, but nobody can excel at everything.
I’ve never even heard that you’re good at Transfiguration.
“Transform.”
Adrian gave his wand a gentle wave.
In his mind, the matchstick had already been dismantled layer by layer using alchemical analysis.
What was its composition?
How was its physical structure arranged?
A faint golden light flashed.
The matchstick instantly changed shape.
“Outstanding, Mr.
Ambrosius.”
Professor McGonagall had clearly noticed what happened.
“A flawless transformation.
Even many upper-year students couldn’t have achieved something this perfect.”
A rare smile appeared on her usually stern face.
She gently lifted Adrian’s work into the air.
It was a long, gleaming silver needle, shining brilliantly beneath the classroom lights.
It was a complete transformation without the slightest flaw.
“For Mr.
Ambrosius’s exceptional performance, Slytherin earns five points.”
The young snakes immediately erupted into cheers.
Even the strict professor suddenly looked much more pleasant in their eyes.
“As expected of Young Master Adrian.
That Gryffindor girl Hermione is nowhere near his level.”
No one objected.
The admiration in Harry and Hermione’s eyes, the respect shown by many honest-hearted Gryffindors, and the reverence from the Slytherin students all reflected the same thing—their genuine respect for this gifted young genius.
Ron silently lowered his head.
His lips were pressed tightly together as he stared at the matchstick lying motionless on his desk.
An inexplicable frustration slowly burned inside him.
Yet Adrian’s own doubts remained unresolved.
My magic is being consumed, but only slightly.
With magical reserves already close to those of an adult wizard, I could probably maintain this matchstick’s transformed state almost indefinitely.
Using simple alchemical refinement, I could convert the wood into carbon, then carbon into iron.
But the Transfiguration I’m using now…
by what principle does it turn this matchstick into exactly what I imagine?
According to the theories recorded in the Book of the God of Magic, nothing could completely ignore the law of equivalent exchange.
Therefore, Transfiguration had to be only a temporary state.
If something could become absolutely anything simply because you wished it, then every wizard would be a god.
Magic.
Spellcraft.
Two simple words.
Yet their meaning was far deeper than they appeared.
Casting magic wasn’t as simple as chanting an incantation, nor was it merely imagining a desired result.
What was its principle?
What was its true essence?
Adrian absentmindedly maintained the silver needle’s form with his wand while staring at the still-locked third chapter within his mind.
The answer must be there.
I can’t waste any more time.
I need to raise the evaluation of the Magic Potions Chapter to Level Three as quickly as possible.
Only then can I begin understanding the true nature of spellcraft.
For the remainder of class, Adrian continued experimenting while pondering his questions.
The silver needle became a paperclip, then eventually transformed into a ring.
With each attempt, his own understanding deepened a little further.
Time passed quickly.
Before long, Transfiguration class came to an end.
Aside from Adrian’s perfect transformation and Hermione’s partially successful attempt, everyone else had failed completely.
Honestly, these professors really don’t know how to teach.
They love crushing first-years’ confidence right from the start.
The world could use a little more kindness.
As class ended, Adrian quietly said to Harry, Malfoy, and the others, “You all head to the next lesson first.
I have something I’d like to ask Professor McGonagall.”
Professor McGonagall, who had been preparing to pack up, paused after hearing him.
The other students gradually filed out until only the two of them remained in the classroom.
“Professor McGonagall,” Adrian said, “there’s something that’s been puzzling me.”
McGonagall was clearly in an excellent mood.
On the very first lesson of the year, she had already discovered a student capable of performing a perfect Transfiguration.
It seemed her teaching this year would be far less exhausting than expected.
Smiling gently, she said, “Please, Mr.
Ambrosius.
Go ahead.”
After carefully choosing his words, Adrian spoke slowly.
“Professor McGonagall…
is Transfiguration, fundamentally, a form of alchemy that uses magical power as its material?”