"You wish to learn how to use a wand to conjure an umbrella?"
Professor McGonagall's facial muscles—already set in a stern arrangement—trembled slightly after hearing Albert's words. She stared at him with an intensity that could melt iron.
"Mr. Anderson, that is the core content of the Ordinary Wizarding Level (OWL) examination," she stated flatly.
"I know, Professor. Professor Flitwick told me so," Albert confirmed, nodding politely. "However, I don't believe that fact should prevent me from learning and, eventually, mastering it."
"It is not a good habit to aim too high, especially when dealing with Transfiguration, which requires more rigor and restraint than most other subjects," Professor McGonagall countered, clearly unwilling to indulge his request, particularly after remembering the disassembled state of her office door. "You still need to learn the basic principles of elemental transfiguration before you can truly approach anything as complex as conjuration."
"Oh, okay." Albert feigned defeat but then asked, "Then can I ask, what grade level does the Summoning Charm become a recognized, testable skill?"
"Fifth-grade knowledge," Professor McGonagall answered casually, already turning to tidy her notes.
"Understood, Professor. Thank you for your time." Albert gave a quick nod and turned to leave. McGonagall didn't want to teach him? Fine. He would simply borrow a book, perhaps buy an advanced volume from Flourish and Blotts, and dedicate his time to self-study. His Transfiguration Theory skill was hungry for data.
What do you mean you understand?
What exactly does that boy understand?
Professor McGonagall felt a sudden, sharp stab of intuition—the kind that usually signaled an impending catastrophe. Her gut told her that Albert was not accepting her dismissal; rather, he was viewing her refusal as a mere administrative hurdle. Her warning about the dangers of Transfiguration would not stop him from trying to master summoning on his own, which could be disastrous.
"Mr. Anderson!" she called out quickly, her voice stopping him at the door.
Albert paused and turned, feigning confusion. "What is the matter, Professor McGonagall?"
He certainly didn't expect her to have changed her mind.
"Return here and be honest with me," she ordered, waving him back to her desk. "How far have you truly progressed in your independent study of Transfiguration? Be precise."
"What level?" Albert rubbed his chin, casting a subtle glance at his Panel, which currently showed a shimmering Transfiguration Theory (Level 1).
He decided honesty, mixed with a touch of youthful arrogance, was the best approach. "I suppose... I've almost finished learning the fundamentals in that Beginner's Guide," he declared, gesturing toward the textbook on his desk.
"You've almost finished learning it!" Professor McGonagall couldn't help but widen her eyes. It was a preposterous claim for a first-year.
"I was practicing Transfiguration and Charms before school started," Albert muttered, lowering his voice slightly. "With enough practice, Professor, the fundamental theory isn't quite as difficult as you might think."
"Not as difficult as I imagined?" Professor McGonagall felt a very real, very alarming tremor run through her composure. She took a deep, steadying breath—a well-practiced technique for maintaining discipline—and decided to call his bluff.
"Very well, Mr. Anderson. If you believe your foundational theory is so secure," she said, her voice regaining its icy precision, "I will give you a proper challenge. If you can successfully turn one of your matchsticks into a mouse, I will allow you to join my Transfiguration Club."
"Transfiguration Club?" Albert frowned in confusion. He racked his memory of the Harry Potter books. There was no mention of a Transfiguration Club in his memory, only the Slug Club. "Professor, I apologize, but what exactly is the Transfiguration Club?"
"It is a small, specialized society that I founded. We meet twice a week," Professor McGonagall explained, a slight softening in her gaze that spoke of pride in the program, "to discuss and study concepts related to Transfiguration that go beyond the standard curriculum. It is a place for the truly dedicated."
Albert nodded to show he understood. He looked down at the simple matchstick, then back at the expectant gaze of the formidable professor. He raised his wand, concentrated on the internal anatomical complexity of the creature, and chanted the spell.
"Vera Verto!"
The matchstick twisted, expanded, and began to grow a dull grey coat of fur. It formed a head and four legs, but the Transfiguration was not complete. The transformation stalled, leaving a small, confused rodent with a coat of uneven fur and one of its hind legs strangely twisted and immobile.
A lame mouse.
Albert looked at the pitiful creature and shook his head helplessly. "I haven't attempted an animate transformation before. Converting objects into living things is exponentially more difficult than object-to-object Transfiguration. Perhaps I can succeed after a few more attempts."
Though this was Albert's first attempt to instill an animate spark (animus) into an object, his newly acquired theoretical knowledge had provided just enough guidance to almost achieve a full success. In Transfiguration, only a perfect, complete transformation was generally counted as successful, but even this flawed result was astounding for a first-year.
"No need, Mr. Anderson. You passed." Professor McGonagall quickly drew out her wand and tapped the poor little creature, and the lame mouse immediately vanished, snapping back into a simple matchstick.
"Passed?" Albert asked, though he was not truly surprised. He focused on the brief, momentary flash of his internal interface.
Quest Complete!
Objective: Join the Transfiguration Club.
Reward Claimed: 2000 Experience Points.
"You transformed an inanimate object into a partially living creature on your first attempt, Mr. Anderson," Professor McGonagall stated, trying to sound stern while hiding her astonished pride. "Even if it was flawed, that is unheard of for a student your age, Muggle-born or otherwise. You have demonstrated the necessary focus and a profound conceptual understanding."
She then recommended a list of reading materials, mostly advanced textbooks that dealt with the ethics and complexity of the subject. It was clear she wanted to keep him busy and prevent him from attempting dangerous, self-taught Transfiguration.
"I suggest you read these books. They will give you the formal knowledge base required to attempt more dangerous magic safely. Do not attempt anything you do not fully understand, Mr. Anderson."
"Okay, I understand, Professor," Albert replied, gathering his notes. He had to read a hundred books for his Scholarly quest anyway; he simply hoped these advanced tomes were lengthy and content-rich.
Albert met up with the twins and Lee Jordan in the hallway, who were bouncing off the walls with post-class energy.
"What were you talking about with Professor McGonagall for so long?" Fred asked immediately, barely containing his impatience.
"I asked her about the Summoning Charm again," Albert explained. "She thought it was too advanced. But she also invited me to join her Transfiguration Club."
"Transfiguration Club?" The three asked in a chaotic, synchronized chorus. "What in Merlin's beard is that?"
"I gather it's a private, advanced study group she founded herself," Albert said after a moment's thought, "to discuss and study complex Transfiguration concepts outside of class time. She said it meets twice a week."
The twins were stunned into a moment of rare silence, a sight that was almost as impressive as the match-to-mouse transformation.
"You are absolutely unbelievable, Albert!" Lee Jordan finally burst out, a hint of genuine jealousy in his voice. "The Deputy Headmistress is giving you private lessons! That's practically special tutoring from the Dean!"
"Ahem." George cleared his throat, eager to shift the focus from Albert's success to their evening plans. "Speaking of which, are you two still planning to come down to the Quidditch pitch with us later?"
"We are heading out around four thirty," Fred confirmed, his excitement returning. "It would be brilliant to feel what flying is really like before the actual flying lessons start. Charlie won't mind a few extra test pilots for his broom."
"Are you in, Albert?" Lee asked.
"I think I am," Albert agreed, a genuine smile spreading across his face.
Fly free. The pure, unadulterated thought of soaring through the vast evening sky made his skin tingle. Though he'd tried flying once on a simple toy broom, he knew a real Quidditch broom would be an entirely different, thrilling experience.
The time agreed upon was 4:30 PM, but it was still well before 4:00 PM. Albert decided to spend the remaining time in the library, as he'd planned. He arranged to meet the three of them in the Great Hall, then headed off alone.
When Albert arrived in the vast, echoing silence of the library, he found only two or three older students hunched over their desks. He chose a quiet corner, opened his quest panel, and accepted the reward for joining the Transfiguration Club.
Reward Claimed: 2,000 Experience Points.
"A level 2 skill," he murmured, noting the exact cost. It took exactly 2,000 experience points to upgrade a skill from Level 1 to Level 2. Albert casually applied the experience to his newly minted Transfiguration Theory.
Transfiguration Theory (Level 1) → Transfiguration Theory (Level 2)
Level 2 Transfiguration Theory, he calculated, should be conceptually rich enough to provide him with the theoretical basis for all the magic he would need up to and including his N.E.W.T.s. Level 3, he surmised, was likely the domain of professors and masterful innovators. He was content. With a solid foundation, the only thing left was the practical, physical learning—the practice that Professor McGonagall had already advised.
He took out the first advanced book McGonagall had recommended and opened it, ready to spend the last half-hour before his aerial adventure solidifying the theoretical framework that would underpin his life as a wizard.