Rule Five of Space-Time Magic: Known, established reality must not be altered.
Any intentional attempt to rewrite a past fact will only drive events in the opposite direction of one’s expectations.
—Saint Tristan Bilius Weasley
…
After dragging Harry and Ron through their daily grind of extra study, Tris returned to his dormitory to take a shower.
Then he waited for them in the Great Hall before leading them to the Transfiguration classroom.
This morning’s first period was their very first Transfiguration class of the term.
Tris felt that with his help, the two wouldn’t show up late and make absolute fools of themselves like they did in the movie.
Although he didn’t mind letting his brother reveal his true nature—a delightfully happy goofball—bad-mouthing Professor McGonagall right in front of her was just too embarrassing.
It felt like it would drag down the Weasley family’s prestige in Hogwarts and across the entire magical world.
With the help of his Mind Maze, Tris could clearly remember the location of every single classroom in Hogwarts.
Given a little more time, he could even master the shifting patterns of Hogwarts’ staircases.
Thus, the three arrived at the Transfiguration classroom a few minutes before class started.
Just as they were about to head inside, someone called out to Tris from the side.
“Tris!” came a cool female voice.
It was Daphne.
“Is something up?” Tris asked at the door, puzzled.
Harry and Ron exchanged a glance, sharing sly grins.
Tris shot them a fierce glare, and the two immediately turned and scrambled into the classroom.
Tris’s combat ability could easily crush those two weaklings, and when he decided to get physical, he never held back.
Daphne watched the three act like idiots, her expression remaining cool and detached.
Only after Harry and Ron went inside did she ask, “Do you go for a morning run every day?”
“Yeah,” Tris nodded.
“Why?” Daphne asked.
“Why?” Tris paused, momentarily unsure how to answer.
In the Muggle world, physical exercise didn’t need a reason.
But in the wizarding world, things seemed a bit different.
After all, wizards cared far more about magic power than physical strength.
And in truth, what magic could achieve far surpassed physical strength.
To put it simply, a basic spell could easily levitate hundreds or thousands of kilograms, whereas even a world-class strongman would struggle to lift the same weight.
“Well, no particular reason. I just think a strong body might also help with casting magic. Just an experiment,” Tris made up a quick excuse.
“I see.” Whether Daphne believed him or not was hard to tell, but she nodded.
“Thank you. Sorry to bother you.”
With that, she walked into the classroom.
Why do all Slytherin girls have this quirk?
Tris rolled his eyes and followed her in.
But the moment he stepped through the door, his eyes widened in shock.
He saw Harry and Ron standing by the teacher’s desk, making “psst-psst-psst” noises at a tabby cat perched on a high stool.
The cat had spectacle-like markings around its eyes.
Tris had used that exact sound back at The Burrow to tease the stray cats in the village, and clearly Harry and Ron had picked it up from him.
What was worse, Ron was actually reaching out to scratch the tabby cat under the chin—another cat-petting trick he had learned from Tris.
“Ron, you idiot, stop right now!”
“Huh?” Ron froze, his hand hovering mid-air, and turned back to look at Tris in confusion.
“What’s wrong, Tris?”
Tris felt like his heart almost leaped out of his chest.
So close.
Just a hair’s breadth away, and this guy Ron would have brought upon the Weasley family a stain that couldn’t be washed off for the next decade—hitting on their own Head of House while at school.
Thank goodness he made it in time.
With a dark expression, Tris strode forward, grabbed Harry and Ron by their collars, and dragged them away from the tabby cat, which was looking at the two with a look reserved for utter fools.
Embarrassed, Tris bowed slightly to the cat.
“I am terribly sorry, Professor McGonagall. Please forgive my brother’s foolish behavior. But please believe me, he really is just stupid and ignorant, not intentionally rude or disrespectful.”
Tris’s words left all the young wizards in the classroom stunned.
Hogwarts—and perhaps schools across the entire wizarding world—seemed to share a similar tradition: if something at school was actually useful, kids would do everything they could to avoid mentioning it to their families.
It was the classic mindset of “if I had to get soaked in the rain, I’m tearing down everyone else’s umbrella.”
The fact that Professor McGonagall could turn into a cat had never been mentioned to their younger brothers by Bill, Charlie, or Percy.
What?
The twins?
Did anyone actually expect anything like that from them?
Hardly!
Because no one spoke of it, even though over half of this year’s Gryffindors and Slytherins came from wizarding families, not a single one knew that Professor McGonagall could transform into a cat.
Seeing Tris bow to a cat and address it as Professor McGonagall, even Hermione was momentarily bewildered.
The tabby cat glanced at Tris.
It was hard to imagine a cat’s face and eyes expressing such clear approval.
The next instant, the tabby leaped lightly into the air, stretching mid-flight, and landed as Professor McGonagall dressed in deep green wizard robes.
*Gasp!*
A collective sharp intake of breath echoed through the room, everyone clearly astounded by the display.
Including Hermione, whose gasp was even sharper than the others, sending a chill down her spine.
Well, although she had felt something was amiss when Harry and Ron ran over to tease the cat, when she first walked into the classroom—Hermione had been one of the very first to arrive—she had been terribly curious upon seeing a tabby cat perched on the stool by the desk.
In fact, she had really wanted to pet it too.
Hermione had loved cats since she was small and always wanted one.
But because her parents ran a dental clinic, keeping a pet wasn’t practical, so her wish had never come true.
Still, she had often fed and petted stray cats in her neighborhood.
The only reason she hadn’t touched it this time was out of concern that the cat might be a teaching aid, or that touching it would displease a professor who might be watching from the shadows—a thought shared by many students.
Careless goofballs like Harry and Ron were definitely a tiny minority—quite possibly the only two.
Hermione didn’t even dare to imagine what would have happened if she hadn’t resisted the urge to pat the cat on the head…
*Gulp.*
Hermione swallowed hard.
Professor McGonagall didn’t pay much attention to the other young wizards’ reactions.
She pulled off this trick about twice every year for the first-years, and the effect was always roughly the same.
To her, their amazement was nothing new.
By contrast, she was much more interested in Tris, who had managed to recognize her.
“Mr. Weasley,” since there were two Weasleys in the same class, distinguishing them by age was standard practice.
“Was there a flaw in my Transfiguration? How did you see through it?”
Evidently, Professor McGonagall was not the only one curious about this; many students in the class were as well.
Hermione, for instance, stared at him with wide, unblinking eyes.
“Professor,” Tris gave a very bright, completely un-Slytherin smile, “as a pioneer and leader in modern Transfiguration, your details are recorded in almost every book profiling contemporary wizards.
“And with only seven registered Animagi in this century, it’s really quite easy to remember.”
Flattery never fails.
Even someone as stern as Professor McGonagall enjoyed hearing a pleasant word.
She nodded slightly.
“Very good, Mr. Weasley. One point to Slytherin for your erudition.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Tris caught a flash of vexation on Hermione’s face.
On the train to Hogwarts, during their conversation, Hermione had mentioned buying plenty of books about the wizarding world, including ones about famous wizards.
She probably just hadn’t gotten around to the modern or contemporary directories yet, or she surely would have known about Professor McGonagall’s record too.
“Alright, everyone back to your seats.” Professor McGonagall glanced at Harry and Ron, who were hunching their necks like a pair of frightened quails, but said nothing more and simply instructed everyone to prepare for class.
All the young wizards obediently sat down, some sharing a table in pairs, like Draco and Pansy.
Others sat alone, like Hermione in the front row and Neville in the back row.
Harry had originally intended to share a table with Ron, but Tris squeezed right in with them.
Harry didn’t mind at all.
Though the month at The Burrow had made Ron his best friend, the good impression Tris had made when they first met was still very much intact.
Tris was still a very good friend in his book.
So while Tris crowding in with them looked a little odd compared to everyone else sitting alone or in pairs, Harry didn’t say anything.
If Harry wouldn’t speak up, Ron certainly would.
Ron looked disdainfully at Tris’s Slytherin badge—a silver snake on a green field—and complained, “You’re a Slytherin, why are you sitting with us? Look around, who else is sitting in threes?”
The Transfiguration classroom had long tables and benches, and since the first-years were still quite small, it wasn’t crowded at all—there was actually plenty of room.
Tris rolled his eyes at Ron and raised his hand directly.
“Professor McGonagall, may three people sit together?”
Professor McGonagall swept her gaze over the three of them and replied calmly, “You may, Mr. Weasley.”
“Then, Professor McGonagall, is there any rule against a Slytherin sitting with Gryffindors?” Tris pressed further.
“Of course not, Mr. Weasley.” This time, Professor McGonagall’s expression turned solemn.
“Hogwarts encourages all houses to communicate, cooperate, and advance together in friendship. Far from opposing it, we fully support it.”
With that, she glanced at Ron.
“Mr. Weasley, in light of your inappropriate remark, you lose one point for Gryffindor.”
Almost instantly, Hermione’s fierce gaze locked onto Ron.
This was the first time a first-year Gryffindor had lost a point; until now, Hermione had been the only one earning points for the house.
Ron instinctively pulled his head back.
Since Ron hadn’t yet been dominated by the horror of endless homework, he flinched for only a second before glaring right back.
Tris watched all this with silent amusement.
*Foolish brother, cherish this moment.
This might well be the absolute highlight of the rest of your life.*
*You just glared at the future Minister for Magic of Great Britain, Lady Hermione Granger.*
Professor McGonagall paid no heed to the students’ small antics.
She walked up to the podium and tapped the blackboard gently, ready to begin the lesson.