Second floor, left corridor, third painting.
This was the note Professor Minerva McGonagall had given Sean, detailing the location of today's Firwood Club meeting.
Sean strode directly to the painting, his footsteps echoing in the quiet corridor. The portrait depicted an elderly wizard seated in a cluttered study, quills and scrolls scattered across his desk. The old man peered at Sean, his eyes sharp beneath bushy brows, and reached under the desk to produce a single apple, placing it carefully on the tabletop.
"I've always felt my study lacks greenery," the wizard said, his voice creaky but warm. "Could you beautify it with some plants, using this apple on my desk? Transfigure it, if you will."
Sean recognized the challenge instantly—a test to enter the Firwood Club. He wondered if this was a one-time trial for newcomers or a ritual for every meeting. Drawing his wand, he gave the apple a gentle tap. At once, the fruit sprouted a tangle of branches, writhing like tentacles. The branches lifted the apple, carrying it off the desk to a corner beside it. The apple morphed into a massive flowerpot, its branches twisting into a small tree.
Just as the old wizard leaned forward, expecting the transformation to end, vines erupted from the pot, snaking along the walls and bookshelves. Soon, the entire study was draped in lush foliage, with tendrils dangling from the ceiling, transforming the room into a verdant haven.
The old wizard's face lit up with delight, his wrinkles deepening as he smiled. He nodded vigorously and said to Sean, "A truly splendid Transfiguration. No wonder Minerva invited you to join the Firwood Club so early in the term. As a Hogwarts Transfiguration professor from a century past, I welcome you to the Firwood Club."
With his words, the painting shimmered and transformed into a grand wooden door, which swung open on its own.
Sean stepped through, entering a candlelit corridor that glowed with soft, flickering light. The passage led to a circular room, its ceiling adorned with floating candles that cast a warm, golden glow. The Firwood Club's classroom stood in stark contrast to Snape's Potions Club, where cold stone and bubbling cauldrons dominated. Here, fireplaces crackled merrily, and the air held the comforting scent of wax and woodsmoke. The room was arranged with nine plush armchairs circling a central sofa, where Professor McGonagall sat, her posture regal yet relaxed.
"Sean, you're early," she said, her voice crisp but kind. "Find a seat."
Sean glanced at the armchairs, each inviting with its deep cushions. He turned to McGonagall and asked, "Professor, are the seats assigned, or can I choose?"
"They're not assigned," she replied, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "The Firwood Club has few rules. This isn't a lecture—it's a discussion. No need to be formal; just relax."
"I understand. Thank you, Professor," Sean said, returning her nod.
McGonagall inclined her head, her glasses glinting, and resumed reading the book in her hands. Sean settled into an armchair, pulling out a book of his own. His month at Beauxbatons had ingrained the habit of always having a book at hand. Back then, he'd relied on Aldridge to carry his tomes or stashed them in a bag charmed with an Undetectable Extension Charm. Now, with Aldridge absent and the Ministry's restrictions on such charms in public, Sean kept his books close, a comforting weight in his hands.
As he read, other students trickled in, their voices low and footsteps soft. The armchairs filled gradually. When Katherine Bishop, a Ravenclaw in Sean's year, arrived last, the Firwood Club was ready to begin.
"Ladies and gentlemen," McGonagall said, setting her book aside, "I'm delighted to see you all again. Last year, three members graduated, and this year, we welcome two new members. Let us applaud Sean Bulstrode and Katherine Bishop."
The nine students, including Sean and Katherine, filled the room. The seven returning members clapped warmly at McGonagall's words, their faces lit by the candlelight. Sean scanned the group, nodding politely to each in greeting. The Firwood Club was a diverse mix: three Gryffindors, three Ravenclaws (including Katherine), one Hufflepuff, and two Slytherins, counting himself. The other Slytherin, a fifth-year, was unfamiliar to Sean. He offered a smile and a nod, but held back from conversation as McGonagall began the session.
"We'll continue last year's focus," she said, her tone commanding attention, "exploring Transfiguration's ability to alter an object's size. This includes enlarging and shrinking both inanimate and living targets. Resizing living creatures is particularly challenging and can be achieved with charms, but to truly master Transfiguration's depths, you must conquer this hurdle."
The students nodded, their expressions intent. Sean leaned forward, absorbing every word.
Magic has developed with each generation. Some powerful and exquisite magics have disappeared with history, while some talented wizards have led magic into new realms. In general, the development of magic is still moving forward. Although today's magic may be weaker than before in terms of secrets and lethality, it still surpasses the past in terms of sophistication and depth. People are always improving, and so are wizards.
For resizing objects, the Engorgement Charm and Shrinking Charm were the simplest, most universal methods. Transfiguration, however, offered a different path. Though its resizing effects appeared similar to charms, the underlying principles were vastly more intricate, demanding a deeper understanding. Mastering this aspect of Transfiguration was daunting, and many wizards opted for charms instead.
Yet, for the Firwood Club's members, with their exceptional talent in Transfiguration, this challenge was essential. To glimpse the art's higher hierarchy, they had to push past this stage. Sean sat in his armchair, listening intently as McGonagall and the others exchanged ideas. Beside him, an enchanted quill scribbled furiously in his notebook, capturing every word, ensuring he missed no vital insight.