Harry Potter: I am the Legend

However, before Miranda had fallen more than two meters, a staircase materialized out of thin air to catch her.

Miranda looked up at Hoffa and said, "Jump!"

Hoffa cursed under his breath, This school is insane!

With a grimace, he vaulted over the railing, leaping into the void. Midair, just two meters down, a moving staircase shifted abruptly to intercept him, seemingly to prevent him from plummeting to his doom.

Following Miranda's lead, the two of them navigated the shifting staircases, leaping and climbing through the ever-changing structure.

The seven-story descent was completed in a mix of jumps and quick sprints, leaving Hoffa slightly breathless.

The moment they landed, Miranda shoved open a wooden door embedded in a shifting wall.

Before them, the corridor itself was in constant motion, doors spinning like a giant lottery wheel.

Miranda didn't hesitate. She began pushing open door after door with resolute determination.

At the corridor's end stood a black iron door. Hoffa instinctively reached out to push it open, but Miranda stopped him.

"Wait a moment."

Hoffa froze in place.

Ten seconds later, a wall came crashing into the wall before them, as if to declare, This is my territory, buddy.

This new wall bore an oak door, which Miranda immediately opened and dragged Hoffa through.

The moment they disappeared inside, another wall crashed into the one they had just left, as if displeased by their intrusion.

Inside the door was the Transfiguration classroom.

The room was circular, with rows of ring-shaped desks arranged around the center. It was already full of students, and leaning casually against the podium was a tall man with reddish-brown hair.

The students turned their heads in surprise at the sound of the door slamming open, all eyes now on the two newcomers.

Hoffa's heart sank. We're late.

Dumbledore regarded the pair with mild amusement.

Glancing at the clock, he smiled and said, "Three minutes late. By the rules, I should deduct three points from your house. However, since today is a holiday for the staircases, I'll instead award you three points. Now, find a seat quickly."

Hoffa let out a sigh of relief.

Staircase holiday? The staircases get holidays too? No wonder everyone was rushing about so chaotically.

Since this was a joint class for all four houses and taught by the ever-popular Dumbledore, the best seats near the podium were already taken.

Miranda chose a spot in the corner and motioned for Hoffa to sit beside her.

Hoffa hesitated, disliking the spot she'd chosen—it was already occupied by a silver-haired girl.

But with class starting, he had no choice but to reluctantly take the seat.

Aglaea, the silver-haired girl, shot Hoffa and Miranda a disdainful glance before scooting an inch to the right, making her irritation abundantly clear.

On her right, two Gryffindor boys turned red-faced and silent, too flustered to speak.

The petty squabbles of children bored Hoffa. He pulled out his notebook and focused on the lesson.

To him, becoming an Animagus was one of his key goals.

After all, coming to the world of Harry Potter without mastering the ability to transform into a favored animal would be no better than being a bystander. And to achieve that, he couldn't afford to miss a single detail of Dumbledore's Transfiguration class.

Once all the students were seated, Dumbledore nodded in satisfaction. Clearing his throat, he tapped the lectern with his wand.

Instantly, the lectern let out a thunderous roar.

"ROAR!"

The simple wooden stand transformed into a majestic lion with four powerful legs.

The students in the front row gasped and recoiled in fright.

With another wave of his wand, Dumbledore turned the pouncing lion into a small black-and-white badger.

The badger sniffed the air with its snout, waddling about before suddenly sprouting wings. To the amazement of the class, it transformed into a broad-winged eagle.

The eagle soared into the air, circling the classroom three times before descending gracefully.

As it landed, its legs elongated and merged, and by the time it touched the floor, it had become a sleek, spotted python, hissing softly.

The snake slithered back to the lectern, coiling around it. With a final flick of Dumbledore's wand, it transformed back into an ordinary wooden stand.

The entire class was stunned, Hoffa included. In his previous life, he had seen countless magical effects in movies, but such precise and vivid transformations were completely unprecedented.

Dumbledore, after becoming headmaster, rarely showcased his mastery of Transfiguration, leaving most unaware that he was truly a master of the art.

Under the students' awestruck gazes, Dumbledore began to speak slowly.

"Transfiguration is the most complex and demanding branch of magic. To alter the structure of something without destroying its essence is a debate that has persisted through generations of wizards."

Seeing that the students were attentively listening, Dumbledore waved his wand.

The curtains drew closed.

The classroom dimmed, and projection screens descended from the ceiling.

Dumbledore continued, "For our first lesson, I won't be teaching you spells. Instead, I'll introduce you to the most essential quality of Transfiguration: caution."

As he spoke, black-and-white photographs flashed across the screens.

Hoffa's eyes widened. The images displayed terrifying creatures.

Dumbledore explained, "Throughout history, some wizards have ventured further into Transfiguration than most. Every great transformation you can imagine has already been attempted. While some succeeded, many failed disastrously in their pursuit of knowledge.

"And without exception, these failures occurred due to a lack of caution."

The photos stopped on a hand-drawn depiction of a massive sphinx.

"In 2000 BCE," Dumbledore said, "the great Egyptian Transfigurist, Sphinx, reached the pinnacle of his craft. Yet he ultimately failed to distinguish between structure and essence, transforming himself into a half-human, half-lion creature. He lost his sanity in the process."

The projection shifted to an image of a harpy with a bird's body and a human face, its expression contorted in agony.

"In 1000 BCE, the renowned Greek witch, Siren, sought the freedom of flight. However, she sacrificed her sanity and stripped herself of humanity, becoming a monstrous hybrid. To this day, her descendants roam the Greek isles in misery."

The screen then displayed a drawing of a Minotaur—half-human, half-bull.

"In 13 CE, the famed wizard Minotaur attempted to transform into a bull during a duel. Overcome by rage, he botched the transformation and spent the rest of his life as a grotesque hybrid, surviving off his own vomit."

As Dumbledore's calm voice narrated these tragic tales, the students turned pale.

Hoffa was astonished to discover that many mythical creatures were real and often connected to the dangers of Transfiguration.

In his previous life, he had found Animagi transformations amusing, never considering the perilous stories behind them.

After recounting over a dozen failed transformations, the classroom was utterly silent.

Suddenly, a hand shot up.

Dumbledore nodded, "Yes, Tom. Speak."

Tom Riddle stood gracefully and asked with deference, "Professor, what does it mean to change the structure without altering the essence? To me, a structural change would inevitably lead to a change in essence."

"A critical question, Tom," Dumbledore said with a faint smile.

"Every Transfigurist holds their own perspective, but I believe essence is defined by your purpose and inner self. If your goal is your guiding light and you are led by compassion and acceptance, you can maintain your identity even amidst the complexities of transformation. Of course, this principle applies primarily to Animagus transformations."

Tom nodded politely. "Thank you, Professor."

He sat down, his expression unreadable. Hoffa couldn't determine if Riddle was an Animagus from the books he had read in his past life, but he suspected that Riddle's expertise lay in Dark Magic rather than Transfiguration.

After addressing Tom's question, Dumbledore instructed each student to come forward and take a piece of wood from the table. Their task: to use their wands to change the wood's shape.

Once armed with their pieces, the students eagerly began experimenting.

The classroom erupted into bursts of colorful light.

Some students muttered incantations as they tapped their wood with their wands.

Some pieces of wood burst into flames with a loud bang. Others turned into mushy piles of goo under the wand's glow. A few sprouted legs and scurried off like mischievous animals.

Dumbledore raised his voice to remind the students, "Stay focused! Keep your mind on your goal—don't lose control!"

But it was no use. A group of young wizards together often led to chaos, and this was no exception.

The Ravenclaw and Slytherin students remained relatively composed, but the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs were practically ready to blow the roof off the classroom.

Even the two Gryffindor boys sitting near Aglaia were contributing to the chaos. One had transformed his piece of wood into a pig's head, while the other accidentally caused his to explode with a loud bang. His face was left covered in soot, his hair standing straight on end.

Aglaia shot them a look of disgust and ridicule, inching her seat a little further away.

Meanwhile, Miranda quietly took out her wand and tapped it on her piece of wood. The wood began to float into the air, slowly reshaping itself.

Eventually, it turned into something resembling an owl. It wasn't pretty, but it could barely pass as one.

Miranda turned to Hoffa and said, "Dumbledore will definitely give me at least five points for this."

"Ridiculous," came Aglaia's reply instead.

With her arms crossed, she sneered, "You're satisfied with that piece of junk?"

Miranda looked at Aglaia with a polite yet composed expression, as if silently saying, If you can do better, go ahead.

The silver-haired girl haughtily pulled out a wand that gleamed faintly with silver light and pointed it at her piece of wood.

Under Hoffa's astonished gaze, Aglaia's wood began to grow and spread across the desk. It transformed into an intricately carved tree. The sculpture was lifelike, complete with delicate little leaves whose veins were clearly visible.

When her transformation was complete, she stowed her wand and cast a mocking smile at Miranda.

Miranda glanced at Aglaia's tree, then at her own owl. With a shrug, she said, "Well, you're impressive."

She didn't argue or even appear upset by Aglaia's jab.

Hoffa found himself somewhat admiring Miranda's composure. To remain unbothered under such provocation—if it had been him, he doubted he could do the same.

Aglaia turned to Miranda and said, "At least you tried. Some people don't even dare to attempt anything."

As she spoke, she tilted her head haughtily, her gaze subtly fixed on Hoffa from the corner of her eye.

She was clearly waiting for this aloof, indifferent boy to embarrass himself.

(End of Chapter)

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