Lucan woke up before the others, as always. The faint light from the lake filtered through the greenish glass windows of the Slytherin dormitory, casting eerie shadows across the stone floor. He sat upright in bed, the curtains drawn aside, already fully dressed in his uniform minus the robes.
He had a book in his lap—"Fundamentals of Transfiguration: A First-Year Primer." It was worn and slightly battered, one of the few books he'd brought from home. The pages were underlined with precise notes in his own handwriting. He flipped back to a section on wand movement, eyes scanning the diagrams for the Veritasius charm—the one used to transfigure small wooden objects into metal.
"First class of the day... Transfiguration," he muttered to himself, brushing a bit of dust from his trousers. "Then Charms after lunch. Potions tomorrow. Herbology and History later in the week."
He closed the book, slid it into his satchel, and stood. The dorm was still quiet, only the sound of gentle snoring and someone talking in their sleep.
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In the Great Hall, Lucan sat with Darius and Gaius while Ewan droned on about his "dream" last night where he became the youngest wizard to turn a teacup into a Hippogriff.
"You're supposed to start with matchsticks," Lucan said dryly, taking a bite of toast.
"I skip the basics," Ewan said smugly.
Later, the Slytherins and Ravenclaws filed into the Transfiguration classroom, a bright, high-ceilinged space with rows of neatly arranged desks and tall windows letting in the morning sun. At the front stood a single wooden desk, and next to it a chalkboard already filled with notes. Each student had a matchstick on their desk
Lucan took a seat next to Gaius while Darius and Ewan took the row behind them. Cedric, from Ravenclaw, sat a few seats away, posture straight.
Just as the chatter began to rise, the door opened sharply.
Professor McGonagall swept in, her tartan robes billowing behind her. She looked over the class with a sharp gaze that immediately silenced the room.
"I am Professor McGonagall," she said crisply. "Welcome to Transfiguration. This is a subject that will demand your full attention, precision, and discipline. It is not wand-waving or silly incantations. If you take it lightly, you will fail, and possibly blow something up."
Lucan suppressed a grin. She was exactly as he remembered her from the books. Sharp, strict, but fair.
"Today, we will begin with an elementary task: turning a matchstick into a needle. Yes, it's simple. No, it is not easy. Your wandwork must be exact. The incantation: Veritasius. Clear and confident. Watch closely."
She raised her wand, flicked it with practiced grace, and the matchstick on her desk shimmered, twisted, and became a gleaming silver needle.
There was a collective murmur of awe.
"Now," she said, turning to the class, "before we begin, who can tell me what element of transfiguration is most important for this spell?"
A few hands hesitated.
Lucan raised his.
"Yes, Mr. Hale."
"The intention behind the transformation," he said. "The caster has to clearly visualize the properties of the object they're changing, like the density, material, and shape. Especially for metal."
McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Correct. Five points to Slytherin."
Darius nudged him from behind. "Show-off."
"Do you want the points or not?" Lucan muttered
"You may begin," McGonagall said.
Lucan took a breath, placed his wand on the desk, and narrowed his focus on the matchstick. He had practiced this in theory, never in practice. His wand, still new, felt strange in his hand, but not entirely foreign.
He flicked. "Veritasius."
A faint shimmer surrounded the matchstick, and for a moment, just a moment, its tip gleamed faintly, turning dull silver before reverting back.
Not perfect. But not nothing.
"Hmm," McGonagall said as she passed. "Keep your wand slightly lower. You're close."
Behind him, Ewan had produced... something that resembled a toothpick made of glitter. He looked very proud.
Livia, meanwhile, was staring at her match like it had personally offended her. "Why isn't it working? This is so beneath me."
"Try saying the spell without scowling," Gaius muttered.
Classended an hourlater, with only two successful transformations, one from a Ravenclaw boy named Arlen, and the other, surprisingly, from Cedric, who had quietly and precisely transfigured his match without saying a word. Lucan's had turned metallic for a few seconds before snapping back.
Still, he wasn't disappointed. He'd been close. Very close
And he knew one thing for sure: he could only get better.