When Sharl saw Transfiguration finally appear on his system panel as a Bronze Level skill, a realization dawned on him.
Before this moment, he had assumed that Transfiguration was a non-skill like Lumos or the Pruning Charm—something the system wouldn't even acknowledge.
But clearly, the issue wasn't with the system—it was with his own lack of skill.
His Transfiguration foundation had been far too weak to even qualify as Bronze Level.
That's why it had never shown up before.
Now that it had, Sharl couldn't help but feel both enlightened and disheartened.
Bronze Level Transfiguration already seemed this difficult?
No wonder countless wizards described the subject with a bitter laugh as: "Transfiguration—from beginner to burial."
Of all the abilities he had tried to improve, Transfiguration felt like the hardest one yet.
And considering how difficult it was just to reach Bronze, how long would it take before he could even begin cultivating Shadow Thorns?
By this time, class had already ended.
Sharl looked up, only to find that none of the younger students had left.
Instead, they were surrounding him—eyes wide, faces filled with admiration.
"Sharl!"
"That Transfiguration spell you used—amazing!"
"I still can't even turn a matchstick into a needle."
"Is there some trick to it?"
"Can you teach us?"
Hearing their excited chatter, Sharl gave a wry smile.
Was there any "trick"?
Not really. It all came down to talent and hard work.
Still, looking at their eager little faces, he thought for a moment and said in a mysterious tone:
"A trick? Oh yes, of course there is."
Their eyes sparkled with anticipation as Sharl leaned in and lowered his voice.
"The trick is this: believe in yourself."
"Only when you believe you can learn Transfiguration will you truly have a chance."
"You're probably always doubting yourselves, right? Go back, repeat in your hearts 'I can learn Transfiguration' five hundred times. Try again. See what happens."
The moment Sharl shared this "secret," the young students lit up with excitement.
"Really?"
"I'll go try it right now!"
As he watched them scatter with hopeful hearts, Sharl shook his head, chuckling to himself.
I wonder if that'll actually help them overcome their fear of difficulty.
If so, maybe some of them really will improve.
Just then, the sound of an owl's wings flapping overhead drew his attention.
A letter landed directly in Sharl's hand.
It was stamped with the official seal of the Ministry of Magic.
Sharl's eyes immediately lit up.
Could this be the compensation from the Ministry?
He eagerly tore open the envelope.
To his surprise, the letter was written personally by Minister Fudge.
Yes, Fudge—the old political fox who rarely honored his promises—had apparently kept his word this time.
According to the letter, one hundred bottles of potion used to cultivate Devil's Snare had already been sent to Hogwarts on the very first day of term.
They were now stored in the Potions Classroom.
Fudge even generously wrote that Sharl could use them freely—and if he ran out, more could be arranged.
"The Ministry of Magic, under my leadership," he wrote, "is committed to talent cultivation."
Reading that, Sharl's eyes beamed with delight.
"Minister Fudge," he exclaimed with genuine joy, "I really misjudged you."
"You're actually a good person!"
Without wasting time, he quickened his steps toward the Potions Classroom.
But as Sharl left, the famous trio exited the Transfiguration classroom behind him, equally stunned by his earlier performance.
Hermione looked worried—clearly shaken.
"I can't believe how much Sharl's Transfiguration has improved..."
"Merlin. He must've crammed during Christmas."
"Meanwhile, I was busy investigating Nicolas Flamel like a fool."
"Now I've fallen behind. I need to catch up."
Ron, on the other hand, was bitter.
The attention Sharl had received—the awe-struck gazes—was exactly what he had always dreamed of.
He recalled the image he and Harry had seen in the Mirror of Erised during Christmas.
The admiration in the mirror was now Sharl's reality.
"How can his Transfiguration have suddenly advanced so much after just one holiday?" Ron grumbled.
"That's not normal."
"I bet Snape had something to do with it."
"Remember during the Lumos test? Snape helped Slytherin."
"He probably used a potion to boost Sharl's Transfiguration."
Seeing Sharl head toward the Potions Classroom, Ron sneered.
"There he goes again—probably off to cozy up to Snape."
"Who knows what unspeakable favors he's done for Snape?"
"Ron!" Hermione snapped, clearly irritated.
"Stop making baseless accusations!"
But Ron just scoffed.
"And you, stop always defending Snape's little pet!"
Before the argument escalated further, Harry stepped in.
"Don't fight."
"I have an idea."
Both turned to him with puzzled looks.
"Don't forget—I have an Invisibility Cloak."
"Let's go back to the common room, get the cloak, and sneak into the Potions Classroom."
"We might learn something about Nicolas Flamel."
Ron's eyes gleamed with anticipation at the thought of spying on Sharl.
Finally, a chance to expose him.
Hermione hesitated but ultimately agreed, considering Hogwarts' safety.
Meanwhile, Sharl, unaware of their plot, had already arrived at the Potions Classroom.
There, he found a beautifully decorated briefcase—just like the letter had promised.
But to his surprise, Snape was also there.
Before Sharl could speak, Snape gestured him inside.
"Come in—quickly."
As soon as Sharl stepped inside, Snape waved his wand, casting Muffliato and several other protective spells.
Snape eyed the briefcase with disdain and said:
"That suitcase full of junk—is that what the Ministry sent you as compensation?"
"Those potions—no, they're not even worthy of that name."
"Mediocre products made by incompetents. Total waste of ingredients."
He sneered.
"Do you think I can't brew these low-level potions?"
Sharl, caught off guard, replied quickly:
"Of course not, Professor!"
"There's no one in the entire magical world better at potions than you!"
"I just didn't want to waste your precious time."
"You should be pushing potion-making to its limits—not brewing these in bulk."
"Besides, the cost of ingredients alone would be astronomical."
At that, Snape snorted but looked mildly appeased.
Without comment, he picked out ten bottles from the case and handed them to Sharl.
"Only these ten are worth anything. True craftsmanship. Use them."
"As for the rest, I'll have to 'fix' them for you."
"If you feed those to Devil's Snare, it might die of malnutrition."
Sharl examined the bottles, noting that they hadn't even been unsealed yet—each in a magic-leak-proof container.
"Uh... Professor," he said hesitantly, "you haven't opened them yet—how do you know they're good?"
Snape answered coolly:
"Wouldn't you recognize a potion you brewed yourself?"
Sharl blinked.
"Huh?"
"But the label says it's from L.E. Potion Shop—wait... L.E.?"
"Lily Evans?"
"That's... your shop?"
Snape gave him a disdainful look.
"At least you're not completely dense."
"Potion research doesn't fund itself."
"Dumbledore's budget? A joke."
"He even expects me to brew dental potions for free."
"If I didn't have a shop, how would I cover costs?"
Sharl suddenly understood.
It was just like his past life—where every researcher had to find their own way to fund their work.
But in this life, he was no longer a nobody.
"Then, Professor," Sharl said solemnly, "next time I'll request L.E. Potion Shop potions specifically from the Ministry."
Snape started to protest—it wasn't his intention to drag the boy into the politics of supply chains.
But Sharl followed up with:
"If you earn less money, potion development slows down."
"If you don't improve, how can I improve?"
"Everything I do is for progress, Professor."
"I really want to improve!"
Snape paused.
That... actually made sense.
If this kid kept requesting potions at this volume, the profits could fund actual research.
Sharl wasn't as foolish as he seemed.
His mood improving, Snape suddenly asked:
"I saw the House Cup points."
"McGonagall wrote that your understanding of Transfiguration now far exceeds your peers?"
Sharl nodded.
Snape raised an eyebrow, surprised.
A long moment passed before Snape made a decision.
He took out a potion from the same case he had mocked earlier and held his wand.
"Since you've finally grasped Transfiguration and have somewhat acceptable potion skills... watch closely."
"This technique—I've never released it publicly. I haven't taught it to anyone else."
Snape's lips curled into a rare, satisfied smile.
"I call it: Severus' Potion Transfiguration."
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