Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, and the classroom immediately fell silent.
"Today," she began crisply, "we will begin Transfiguration. A difficult branch of magic that requires focus, precision, and understanding."
Lucien listened politely while idly stroking Alolan Vulpix's head as she slept in his lap.
"No waving your wand and hoping for the best," McGonagall continued, her sharp gaze sweeping the room. "You will attempt to transfigure a matchstick into a needle."
A small box of matchsticks floated onto every desk.
"Begin."
The room exploded into whispered spells, frantic wand movements, and very unimpressive results.
A matchstick wiggled.
Another turned slightly shiny.
One burst into sparks.
Lucien didn't bother.
He leaned back slightly, Vulpix rolling onto her back in his lap, and gently scratched behind her ear.
Time passed.
Half the lesson was already gone.
Lucien glanced around.
No one had succeeded.
…Almost no one.
Akeno calmly lifted her wand.
Her matchstick shimmered once—clean, elegant—and became a perfect silver needle.
Lucien smiled faintly.
Of course.
Professor McGonagall stopped mid-step.
"…Excellent, Miss lionhardt."
Akeno inclined her head politely.
"Ten points to Hufflepuff."
The room buzzed.
Lucien knew the truth, of course.
Akeno's fallen angel magic made the process effortless—but only he knew that.
Then, finally, Lucien moved.
He reached into his robe and withdrew his wand.
It was crimson, polished smooth, etched with faint amethyst markings that shimmered softly under the classroom lights. Several students paused just to stare.
Lucien tapped the matchstick gently.
Not sharply.
Not forcefully.
Just… gently.
The wood didn't stretch or warp.
It flowed.
Instead of a needle, the matchstick reshaped itself into a small sculpture.
Akeno's likeness.
Every detail was perfect—the hair, the expression, even the softness of her smile.
Silence filled the room.
Professor McGonagall stopped breathing for half a second.
"…Mr. Lionhardt," she said slowly.
Lucien looked up. "Yes, Professor?"
She picked up the sculpture, inspecting it closely. "…This is not the assigned task."
Lucien nodded. "I know."
The class leaned forward as McGonagall turned and held it up.
"Observe," she said to the students, "what true control looks like."
Gasps filled the room.
Akeno covered her mouth, eyes shining.
Susan stared in awe.
Harry blinked repeatedly.
Ron's jaw dropped.
Lucien glanced at Akeno.
She was beaming.
📚 Professor Lionhardt (Temporarily)
"Care to explain how you did it?" McGonagall asked.
Lucien stood and nodded. "Of course."
He walked to the dais and sat on the desk casually.
"First," he said calmly, "how many of you understood today's lesson?"
A few Hufflepuffs raised their hands.
A couple of Gryffindors followed.
Lucien's eyes flicked to Harry.
No hand.
Then to Ron.
Still no hand.
Lucien pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.
"…Right."
He straightened. "You're all trying to force the change. Transfiguration isn't about force. It's about agreement."
Blank stares.
Lucien simplified further.
"Imagine the matchstick wants to become a needle. Your job is to convince it."
That… helped.
He broke the spell down step by step, slow and clear, explaining wand movement, intent, and magical structure in the simplest terms possible.
McGonagall watched silently.
By the end of the lesson—
More than half the class succeeded.
Gryffindor and Hufflepuff alike.
Harry managed a half-needle, half-stick.
Ron produced… something bent and sad.
Lucien stared at Ron's result.
What is going on inside this man's head?
McGonagall noticed his expression and coughed quietly.
She understood.
And she was… slightly embarrassed.
🏰 Aftermath
By the time the bell rang, Lucien Lionhardt's name was already spreading through Hogwarts.
By lunch:
Professors were talking. Students were whispering. Rumors were flying.
In the dungeons, Severus Snape received the news.
He said nothing.
But for the first time in years, he smiled.
Lily's hair.
Lily's talent.
And far more control.
Snape had cared for Lucien more than Harry from the beginning.
And now, he felt quietly proud.