The classroom still hummed faintly from the spectacle of Cassius's transformation as Professor McGonagall rapped her wand against the blackboard, regaining the attention of thirty stunned students.
"Enough gawking," she said, though her voice trembled with a faint edge of disbelief. "Today's lesson is Transfiguration of small, inanimate objects. You will each take one of these matches—" she flicked her wand, and a neat pile of wooden sticks appeared on every desk "—and transform it into a silver needle."
The class collectively exhaled, tension dissolving into excitement.
Finally, something normal.
Before being unleashed she gave a single example as she tapped the match before her three times slowly before chanting "Vera Verto"
In that moment the match quickly conformed into a simple silver needle that sat where the match once did, then it changed back, and she announced the start to the class.
McGonagall continued, pacing between rows of desks.
"Remember: precision, concentration, and intent. Transfiguration is not mere willpower. You must see the object to make the match become it—and reshape it, until it becomes what you envision."
Cassius twirled the match between his fingers, his mind already dissecting its composition—organic cellulose, trace phosphorus, bound by mundane chemistry.
He focused not on the match, but on its structure.
Having already read deeply into the subject, he knew he couldnt apply atomic theory to the use of magic, to do so would result in failure simply because he couldnt possible will all the billions of atoms into the correct shape, he needed to focus on the thing in front of him, and on the thing he wanted to change it into.
The moment he tapped his wand to it, the wood shimmered, twisting once—then snapped into metal.
Perfect.
Sleek.
Gleaming like a thread of moonlight.
McGonagall blinked, mid-stride.
"...Mr. Snape."
Cassius looked up, polite but faintly amused.
"Yes, Professor?"
Her lips tightened.
"You—finished already?"
He nodded.
"First attempt."
Across the room, Hermione Granger was glaring so hard that if looks could hex, Cassius's wand would have combusted in his hand, she had already cast the spell a dozen times but at most she could get the tip to change into metal before quickly reverting back.
She muttered under her breath that in all the research she'd done the fastest attempt at this should still take at least three tries, but he got it right on the first try?
Cassius didn't smirk.
Not exactly.
But the corner of his mouth curved, just barely.
Enough for her to notice.
Hermione flushed crimson.
"Don't get cocky," she hissed when McGonagall's back was turned, low enough that she meant it not to be heard by anyone, but even from across the room Cassius had, the silent challenge against his magic.
Cassius merely tapped his silver needle, the faint ring of metal echoing between them as he undid his spell and changed it back to a match.
'I wouldn't dream of it.'
By the time class was dismissed, Cassius's desk was a littany of experimentation, he'd gone beyond simple transfiguration and begun turning the matches into figures, even at one point turning them all into chess pieces before playing a game against himself.
As for Hermione, she managed to secure Ravenclaw five points after managing to turn half of her match into a needle and retaining the shape.
When class ended and the others filed out, Hermione lingered at the door, throwing one last glare over her shoulder before storming off toward the Great Hall.
Cassius stayed seated, calmly cleaning up his desk and re-piling up the matches.
He knew what was coming next.
"Mr. Snape," McGonagall said at last, tone cool but laced with a kind of wary curiosity. "A word, if you please."
He rose smoothly to face her.
"Of course, Professor."
The room was empty now, sunlight streaming through arched windows, dust motes turning lazily in the beams.
McGonagall closed the door with a flick of her wand, then turned to him, arms crossed.
"You are aware, I assume," she began, "that being an unregistered Animagus is a punishable offense under wizarding law?"
Cassius didn't flinch. "Yes, Professor. But that's not what I am."
Her eyes narrowed. "Not what you—? Mr. Snape, I saw you transform with my own eyes."
"Human Transfiguration," he corrected softly. "Not Animagus transformation. The difference is—intent and method."
Before she could argue, he raised his wand and pressed it lightly against his chest.
"Observe."
"Mr. Snape, don't—"
Too late.
The air shimmered again, a low hum vibrating through the stones as Cassius's body began to shrink.
His robes folded inward, his limbs retracting until a small, sleek tabby cat sat where the boy had stood—amber eyes bright, fur patterned exactly like McGonagall's own Animagus form.
The resemblance was uncanny.
For a full five seconds, McGonagall simply stared, mouth slightly open.
Then the cat—Cassius—gave a soft, knowing purr and hopped lightly onto a desk, tail curling neatly around its paws.
It tilted its head up at her with a look that was unmistakably smug.
McGonagall pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Oh, Merlin help me."
The cat blinked slowly.
She sighed.
McGonagall regarded him with a look that was equal parts disbelief, exasperation, and reluctant respect.
"Mr. Snape," she said finally, "I should give you detention until Christmas for attempting something so reckless. And yet…" She exhaled sharply. "You executed it flawlessly. Again."
Her eyebrow twitched.
Before she used her own wand to undo the spell cast upon himself rather than wait it out.
In a similar exchage the Cat began to grow and extend until Cassius was human once more, seated on the edge of a desk.
McGonagall stared at him for a long, silent moment, as if trying to decide whether he was brilliant, insane, or both.
"Five points to Draconis," she said finally, her voice clipped.
Cassius blinked. "For what, Professor?"
"For your flawless execution of Transfiguration," she said, her tone carrying both approval and warning. "And because if I don't acknowledge what you've accomplished, I'll have to admit I've just witnessed a first-year outdo half the seventh-years I've ever taught."
A faint smile ghosted across Cassius's lips. "Thank you, Professor."
"Don't thank me yet," she said, eyes narrowing again. "You and I will be having another discussion about your… extracurricular experimentation. Preferably before you decide to turn yourself into a phoenix or vanish into a puddle of vapor. And about your joining my Transfiguration club."
"You might have to fight Professor Flitwick for that Professor," Cassius said mildly having already received a signal of intent to invite him to the Charms Club last class.
McGonagall's lips thinned, but the faintest flicker of amusement crossed her face.
"You're far too much like your father," she muttered.
Cassius looked genuinely intrigued. "Which part of him?"
"The insufferably clever part," she replied briskly.
As she waved him toward the door, Cassius gathered his things.
Behind him, McGonagall lingered, staring at the place he had stood.
Unregistered Animagus, indeed.
No, that wasn't it.
This was something that went beyond the known laws.
That kind of control shouldn't have been possible for an eleven-year-old.
"Merlin's beard…" she whispered under her breath.
She knew Severus was clever beyond his means in school to having also invented his own spells but his son... went way beyond even that.
But for now, she turned to the board and erased the lesson plan, muttering quietly to herself:
"Five points to Draconis," she repeated. "And may the Founders help us all."