NOVEL NEXT Chapter 14: Swoosh
"I got up at five o'clock. Do you think five in the morning is a reasonable time to wake your roommates?" Harry shifted slightly to the left. Hermione's breath had tickled his ear, and she was sitting uncomfortably close. He still wasn't used to being this near to anyone other than Shadowheart.
Of course, Karlach and Lae'zel were exceptions—those two goofballs were more like brothers to him anyway.
Soon, the class bell rang, and rushing into the classroom, as usual, was a flustered Ron.
"Sorry, Professor, I... I got lost," Ron panted, shrinking under Professor McGonagall's stern gaze.
"Try to arrive earlier next time, Mr. Weasley. At the very least, don't come in with the bell."
"Y-Yes, sorry..."
"Very well, find yourself a seat. I trust you won't get lost inside the classroom, will you, Mr. Weasley?"
Ron blushed, glancing around. His eyes lit up when he spotted Harry but dimmed just as quickly when he saw that the seat next to him was already occupied. With a faintly resentful glance at Hermione, Ron finally plopped down beside Seamus.
"Transfiguration is the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall announced, her gaze sweeping across the eager young faces before her. Her tone was solemn, almost grave.
"Anyone who chooses to fool around in my class will be shown the door and barred from returning. Consider yourselves warned."
With that, she raised her wand and gave it a light flick. The desk at the front of the classroom transformed into a large, snorting white pig. With another wave, it turned back into a desk.
McGonagall's demonstration instantly captivated the curious first-years. Eager to try it themselves, they all whipped out their wands, itching to begin.
However, before they could start, they had to take down a mountain of notes on complicated and unfamiliar theories. These dense explanations and cautionary advice quickly dampened their enthusiasm, forcing them to confront just how far they were from turning furniture into animals—it might as well be a thousand years away.
After filling their notebooks with dense scribbles, McGonagall brought out a box of matches. A flick of her wand sent a matchstick tumbling to each student's desk.
Theoretical math was over; it was time to solve the equivalent of advanced calculus.
By the end of the class, only Hermione Granger had managed to make her matchstick show any change, earning her a rare smile from McGonagall and two house points. As for Harry, he managed to vanish his 35th matchstick completely.
"Harry, you need to visualize the object you want to create. The clearer and more detailed the image in your mind, the better. Do you understand?"
Unable to stand watching any longer, Hermione tried to coach Harry, but he still managed to disintegrate his 36th matchstick into thin air.
In the end, Hermione accompanied Harry to see Professor McGonagall after class to seek advice. (Ron, meanwhile, bolted out the door as soon as the bell rang.)
"Professor, could you help me figure out what I'm doing wrong with Transfiguration?"
After receiving an affirmative nod, Harry placed his 37th matchstick on the desk and began channeling his magic into it, probing every detail of its structure.
Ten seconds passed. Then twenty. Then thirty. McGonagall frowned as Harry stared intently at the matchstick without moving.
"Mr. Potter, what exactly are you doing?"
"I'm analyzing the matchstick's structure. How else am I supposed to infuse magic into every fiber of the wood?"
"Why would you need to infuse magic into every... fiber? What even are fibers?"
"I know that one!" Hermione chimed in, practically bouncing. "Fibers are the mechanical tissues composed of lignified thickened cell walls and fiber cells with slit-like pits. They're one of the main components of wood!"
"Cells...?" McGonagall trailed off, looking bewildered before shaking her head. "Never mind that. Let's get back to the topic.
"Transfiguration works on the object as a whole, Mr. Potter, not by transforming every single part simultaneously. Does that make sense?"
Harry tilted his head thoughtfully. "Professor, could you demonstrate it for me one more time?"
"Of course, Mr. Potter. I'll slow it down so you can observe carefully. Miss Granger, you should pay attention as well."
McGonagall drew her wand and gave a slow, deliberate flick. A matchstick tumbled out of the box, spun in midair, and landed gracefully on the desk. With a gentle tap, it transformed into a delicate silver needle etched with intricate patterns.
"Oh, I get it now! It's all about the swoosh, isn't it?" Harry exclaimed, his eyes lighting up. He clenched his fist and smacked his other palm as if he'd just solved an ancient mystery.
"Swoosh? Harry, are you sure you understand?" Hermione asked skeptically, rolling her eyes.
"Of course!" Harry said confidently, drawing his wand. He pointed it at his 37th matchstick, muttered the incantation, and—swoosh!—the matchstick transformed into a silver needle with a dog's head engraved on it.
"See? Just like that. Swoosh!"
Hermione and McGonagall: "(O_o)??"
By the time they left the Transfiguration classroom, the third-floor corridor was empty.
"Harry, let's hurry to the Great Hall. I'm starving," Hermione said, stuffing A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration into her bag while her stomach growled.
"Good idea," Harry agreed, adjusting his bag. "Want to take a shortcut, Hermione?"
"If there's a shortcut, of course! You know how annoying those moving staircases are."
"Got it." Harry raised his right hand, and a faint, shimmering fragment flickered briefly in his palm.
Casting a Feather Fall Charm on himself and Hermione, Harry grabbed her hand and leapt over the banister.
Hermione's panicked screams echoed through the castle.
At 2 p.m., sporting a panda-like black eye, Harry arrived early for Charms on the fourth floor.
Five minutes before class started, Ron rushed into the room, his face flushed. Seeing the empty seat next to Harry, he beamed and plopped down beside him.
"Hey, Harry, didn't see you back at the common room at lunchtime—Bloody hell! What happened to your eye?"
"An involuntary reaction during an intense experience. Don't worry about it."
For the entire day, Hermione didn't say a single word to Harry.
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