What was supposed to be a Transfiguration class quickly turned into a theatre class.
Many students heard the commotion and crowded into the classroom, leaving it packed to the brim.
"Excellent," Professor Marchbanks said, applauding enthusiastically.
"Child, you are officially the eighth registered legal Animagus of this century. Congratulations!"
"And here is your certificate."
Marchbanks handed William a golden certificate.
The gilded text on it read: Most Promising Newcomer Award!
William blinked in surprise before accepting what was now his fourth accolade.
He had previously received the Order of Merlin and two Special Contribution to Hogwarts awards.
"Don't be so surprised. I'm the chief editor of Today's Transfiguration magazine, though I won't hold the position for much longer, It'll go to Minerva eventually," Marchbanks said with a smile.
William accepted the certificate, though what puzzled him wasn't the award itself but the way it was presented.
When Professor McGonagall had mentioned it, she had been so excited that he assumed it would involve a grand ceremony.
While it didn't need to match the pomp of receiving the Order of Merlin, some degree of formality seemed appropriate.
Instead, this simple piece of parchment felt more like a souvenir from a roadside stand.
It was like finding a gold nugget in your backyard, handing it over to the government, and receiving a casual, "Here's your banner, mate!" in the local dialect.
Something felt off.
As it turned out, William had overestimated the significance.
Today's Transfiguration wasn't an official publication but a respected academic journal.
The Most Promising Newcomer Award was an unofficial accolade designed to encourage young wizards' exceptional achievements in Transfiguration.
Had Marchbanks not known William personally, the certificate would've been delivered via owl without any fanfare.
The award offered no Galleons and no ceremony, it was purely an honor.
After all, the magazine's high-brow academic focus meant its readership and sales paled in comparison to The Daily Prophet. Lavish events weren't in the budget.
"With this award, the school can help you apply for the International Wizarding Youth Scholarship," McGonagall said from the side.
Oh. That explained things.
The Most Promising Newcomer Award was recognized by the International Confederation of Wizards, allowing recipients to apply for its scholarship program.
This scholarship, issued by the Confederation, held immense prestige.
The Confederation functioned as the magical world's equivalent of the United Nations.
Just imagine the clout that came with a scholarship from such an organization.
With this certificate, William could join any department in the Ministry of Magic without undergoing examinations.
Most importantly, Dumbledore was the Confederation's current Supreme Mugwump.
With such connections, it was guaranteed that William's scholarship would be of the highest tier, ensuring a substantial sum of money.
As a result, exceptional students not only received free education but could even graduate with financial gains.
Dumbledore himself had followed a similar path, collecting every possible award before his graduation, laying the foundation for his influence.
Now, Dumbledore was helping William build his own.
"Let's take a photo for the next issue of Today's Transfiguration. It'll feature your essay and this award," Marchbanks said, gesturing for the photographer.
"What's going on here?"
A voice suddenly rang out from the crowd as Gilderoy Lockhart pushed his way through, his teal robes billowing dramatically.
"Who's being interviewed? Which paper is this? Why wasn't I informed?" Lockhart sounded excited.
Striding into the classroom, he threw an arm around William's shoulder and exclaimed loudly, "William, my dear boy! Fancy meeting you again!"
"This summer, you told me you hated media attention. How's that working out?" Lockhart chuckled, patting William's shoulder affectionately.
"Seeing all those photos of me in the papers must've made you envious, right? The taste of fame? Is that it? So you couldn't wait to call in the press?"
"Come now, Mr. Photographer," Lockhart beamed, "a duo shot is the way to go. We'll make the front page!"
"And who might you be?" Marchbanks asked impatiently.
"Excuse me? You don't know me? I'm the famous wizard Gilderoy Lockhart," he announced proudly.
Marchbanks shook her head, her expression one of disdain. She didn't recognize this flamboyant man and found him thoroughly unpleasant.
She clearly preferred men like Dumbledore, who were more rugged and dignified.
Lockhart noticed the certificate in William's hand and squinted at the text.
"For outstanding achievements in Animagus mastery…"
"Ah, Animagus! I'm well-acquainted with that magic. In fact, I used it while dealing with the Banshee of Byron," Lockhart said, eager to boast.
"So, you're an unregistered Animagus?" Marchbanks asked, narrowing her eyes.
Unregistered Animagi broke the law and faced potential imprisonment in Azkaban.
Although Lockhart had no clue what Animagus meant, he froze at the word "unregistered."
Stammering, he turned to William and asked, "Which paper is this?"
"Today's Transfiguration."
"Never heard of it. Must be some minor publication," Lockhart replied, straightening up again.
So long as it wasn't a major newspaper, he didn't feel threatened.
The crowd murmured in disbelief.
For first-years to be unaware of the magazine was excusable, but for someone like Lockhart, it was unthinkable.
William was dumbfounded as well.
This was like a PhD holder being unaware of Google Scholar.
Reality, as always, was stranger than fiction.
Sensing he had made a grave mistake, Lockhart muttered an excuse and quickly left.
"Where did Albus find such an incompetent fool?" Marchbanks said loudly.
The crowd erupted in whispers, with many now questioning Lockhart's qualifications.
…
Soon, Today's Transfiguration became a sensation at Hogwarts.
Around campus, nearly every student had a copy.
At lunchtime, Harry and Ron sat at the Gryffindor table with Hermione, who had her copy propped against a milk jug.
She was reading intently while eating, occasionally marking passages with a quill.
"Hermione, can you stop obsessing over that magazine?" Ron grumbled. "Everyone's reading it. I don't get the hype."
"That's because you don't understand it!" Hermione shot back sharply. "If you had any intellectual depth, you'd see how fascinating it is.
"Especially William's article. there are methods in there you won't find in textbooks."
"But you're always studying with William in the library. Didn't he teach you this stuff?" Harry asked.
"It's different. William hasn't covered such advanced material with me yet. I'm getting a head start.
"Even Professor McGonagall praised his work. Reading it in advance certainly won't hurt."
"That's because he began the article with 'Thanks to Professor McGonagall for teaching me Animagus,'" Ron said sourly. "If it were me, she'd praise my article too."
Harry nudged Ron.
"What? Am I wrong?" Ron snapped.
"Of course you're wrong! I recommended the article purely for its academic merit!" McGonagall's voice cut through the conversation.
Carrying a stack of books, she stood behind Ron, her lips pressed into a thin, cold line.
"Ah!" Ron nearly fell off his chair, startled.
"Mr. Weasley, if I were you, I'd avoid speaking ill of others behind their backs—especially of your own Head of House!" Said McGonagall her voice less than pleased with a hint of coldness to it.
"Sorry, Professor, I didn't mean—"
McGonagall cut him off with a stern glare.
"You and Mr. Potter will report to Mr. Filch this Saturday for detention, as punishment for driving that enchanted car to school!"
"What will we have to do, Professor?" Harry asked nervously.
"Ask Mr. Filch yourselves. I have no idea!" McGonagall replied coldly before storming off.
She had intended to ask Filch to lighten their punishment, but now she decided against it.