In the small greenhouse, the shadows on the ground swirled like a whirlpool. The next moment, Char's figure emerged from the vortex.
His body was now covered with a thick layer of shadow magic, constantly corroding his flesh and blood. However, under the influence of his legendary life force, the damaged tissue grew back just as quickly as it was destroyed. The whole process repeated in an endless, alternating cycle of pain and itching. At first, Char had found it quite painful, but over time, he had gradually grown accustomed to it. Now, he even felt a little numb.
His attention was focused entirely on the Transfiguration skill on his system panel. The bronze luster of the spell had become much richer than it was two days ago. However, Char's brows furrowed slightly. He noticed that after this last shadow shuttle, his progress had stalled.
"Almost ten times now," he thought. "I'm only just getting started with Tolman Transfiguration. As the shadows move through space, there are still countless mysteries I haven't figured out. But after these last few trips, no matter how hard I concentrated on feeling the changes in the magic's nature, my Transfiguration skill hasn't improved. Not even a hint. It seems the problem lies elsewhere."
His gaze shifted to his [Magic Perception Enhancement] ability. It still shone with a dazzling golden luster, but there was still some distance to go before it reached the Platinum level.
Char sighed softly. "It seems my magical perception is the bottleneck, making it impossible to go any further in Transfiguration. It's like someone with uncoordinated limbs trying to swim. At first, just splashing around in the pool for a while is enough to master the basics, maybe even swim faster and better than the average person. But if I want to pursue higher improvements, with such serious flaws, I'm unable to do so."
Char's eyes swept across the system panel again. For most of his spells, progress had stagnated after reaching the Platinum level. It was only recently, with the help of his advancing Transfiguration, that they had improved further. But now, Transfiguration itself was stuck. He was afraid his magical development would come to a complete standstill for a while. To make a breakthrough, he would have to wait until his [Magic Perception Improvement] completed its own qualitative change and reached the Platinum level. But judging by his current situation, even with five giant troll-plants continuously producing rewards, that would take until the end of the school year, at least.
He frowned, but a moment later, his expression returned to one of calm. "The improvement in Transfiguration over the past two days has been very noticeable. I don't know how long it would have taken to achieve such an increase on my own. Even among the best students in the second and third years, my Transfiguration skill is probably outstanding. It's enough for now."
"Besides," he reasoned, "the threat from the two-faced man has been temporarily lifted. The next possible crisis is the Philosopher's Stone incident, and I will not get involved. It would be best if Voldemort doesn't get the stone, just like in the original story. But if something unexpected happens, even if the sky falls, Dumbledore will be there to hold it up. He hasn't put on the cursed Resurrection Stone ring yet; he's in his prime. With the Elder Wand and the home-field advantage, even a peak-level Voldemort would have to kneel."
His thoughts solidified into a plan. "I just need to keep the blood poison as a trump card, just in case. I don't care about the Philosopher's Stone. During this time, I will focus on farming and accumulating rewards. And although my magical skills have been temporarily stalled, my theoretical knowledge is still quite limited. It would be beneficial to read more and accumulate more knowledge. When my magical perception finally breaks through, all of this will become the foundation for my next leap forward."
Char's expression was firm. A gentleman keeps his abilities to himself and waits for the right time to act.
He stopped the shadow-shuttling. Taking a deep breath, he felt the rush of vital blood through his body, washing away the corrosive shadow magic. An unprecedented feeling of relaxation enveloped his body and mind. For the past two days, his nerves had been constantly on edge, fighting against the pain and itching. He would not be so self-destructive as to torture himself further.
"Don't think too much for now," he told himself. "Go take a class and enjoy it. It just so happens that today is Transfiguration. I can relax and learn at the same time. Double happiness!"
Full of energy, he quickened his pace and headed towards the Transfiguration classroom. In the corridor, he happened to run into the Savior Trio. Because they mistakenly believed Char was being threatened and even abused by Snape—and because Char had told them about Nicolas Flamel and the Philosopher's Stone—their original vigilance had turned into sympathy and pity. They greeted him quite enthusiastically.
Char noted that each of them looked haggard and sleep-deprived. He remembered what Hagrid had said about them standing guard against Snape for three weeks. Without the benefit of his Legendary Life ability, their dedication was truly amazing. Hermione looked particularly exhausted, with dark circles under her eyes that looked like smoky makeup.
"Hermione, are you—" Char began to ask, but she just gave him a resentful look and walked into the classroom without a word.
Harry yawned, looking a bit surprised. "Char, you haven't forgotten, have you? Today is the last real Transfiguration class of the semester. After this, it's all self-study and Q&A sessions. And Professor McGonagall is going to teach us how to write short essays to make sure our regular grades are high enough to pass the final exam. So, this class is Hermione's last chance to regain first place. Recently, even while she was spying on Snape, she was staying up late studying Transfiguration!" Harry looked at Char with some resentment. "You must have put too much pressure on her. For days, I had nightmares about the Transfiguration exam. Thank Merlin this is finally over after today."
Harry then turned the topic to Snape, his face filled with excitement. "Char, you were in detention, so you might not know. We have completely confirmed that Snape is the mastermind behind the attempt to steal the Philosopher's Stone. We have solid evidence."
Char blinked. "Evidence?"
"Yes," Harry nodded repeatedly. "During the subject review, all the other professors were extremely busy. Only Snape had the least work. And he was hanging out near the fourth-floor corridor almost every night. Isn't that enough to prove he orchestrated the review to create an opportunity to get to the Stone?" He paused, then continued excitedly, "But fortunately, his plot didn't succeed. Because Professor Quirrell often passes by the fourth-floor corridor as well. He must have been on guard against Snape. He's the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, after all. I never thought Professor Quirrell, who seems so timid, could be so brave."
Char was speechless for a long time. Finally, he said, "Harry, how many years have you been wearing those glasses? Is the prescription too old? Maybe you should get them changed."
"How did you know?" Harry asked, looking surprised. "I do feel like they aren't as clear anymore."
The corners of Char's mouth twitched. "Because when it comes to this matter, your eyesight is obviously poor."
Before the confused Harry could ask any more questions, the class bell rang. Remembering Professor McGonagall's harshness, Harry and Ron rushed into the classroom, and Char took his seat among his fellow Hufflepuffs.
When the ringing ended, Professor McGonagall, sitting at the podium, looked at the fully assembled class with satisfaction. "Very good. As I'm sure you all know, this is the last real Transfiguration class of the school year. From now on, it will be self-study and Q&A. So, in this class, to test your mastery, everyone will perform in public once, and I will give you targeted advice. Of course, this is also your last chance to earn extra points for your house. Those who are particularly outstanding may even be exempted from the final exam."
A wave of shock went through the classroom. They had heard about the self-study sessions from the older students, but no one had mentioned a pop quiz. They had thought the painful part of the course was over.
Professor McGonagall's lips curved into a meaningful smile. "I guess your seniors haven't told you about this." She blinked, a rare bit of playfulness in her eyes. "You see, this is a Hogwarts tradition. People who have been caught in the rain before won't think to hold an umbrella for the students behind them. You have to go through the same suffering once more."
Everyone understood. The seniors had deliberately kept silent, giving them a nasty "surprise." Harry and Ron looked at each other, their expressions bitter. They had spent the last few weeks watching Snape, not practicing Transfiguration.
"This is terrible," they muttered. "Professor McGonagall will be absolutely furious." They quickly opened their textbooks, trying to cram at the last minute.
But Professor McGonagall had already begun calling out names. "Hannah Abbott!"
Hannah stood up, her face flushed. Everyone looked at her with sympathy. Even Char had to suppress a laugh. Just then, the Hufflepuffs broke into a warm round of applause. Hannah glanced at Char, who gave her an encouraging nod. Her face turned even redder, but the hand holding her wand relaxed a little. She took a few deep breaths, muttering to herself, "I can do this. Transfiguration is not difficult."
She pointed her wand at the matchstick on her desk. To Char's surprise, and Professor McGonagall's, the matchstick transformed into a simple, shiny silver needle. Though the details were a bit rough, the transformation was a success. Hannah couldn't help but jump for joy, her two pigtails bouncing.
"I really did it!" she said excitedly to the other Hufflepuffs. "See? What Char told us is true. Transfiguration isn't difficult. As long as we're not afraid, we can all succeed!"
The other Hufflepuffs grew excited. Char, however, was a little surprised. He only now realized that Hannah had been using the "trick" he had taught them: positive self-talk. He then noticed the calluses on her palm from her wand. It wasn't just the trick; she had clearly been practicing a great deal. In the past, the children had been afraid of Transfiguration, and their self-doubt had ensured their failure. But after Char's advice, they had started giving themselves more positive psychological reinforcement, which led to better results in practice, which in turn increased their confidence. It was a virtuous cycle.
As more Hufflepuffs were called, their success rate was astonishing. Almost half of them were able to successfully transform the match into a silver needle. Professor McGonagall was stunned. In all her years of teaching, not even the Ravenclaws had ever performed so well. It was as if the Hufflepuffs had taken some kind of magic potion. Her eyes fell on Char, and a look of emotion appeared on her face. Everything seemed to have started with him. His efforts had unconsciously infected those around him. She couldn't help but smile with relief.
The smile froze on her face when the first Gryffindor was called, and the matchstick in front of him twisted into a strange, unrecognizable shape. She tried to convince herself it was a coincidence, but when the next two Gryffindors performed similarly, her face turned completely cold. The Gryffindor students shuddered, a very bad feeling washing over them.
Then, Professor McGonagall called a name that made everyone turn their heads. "Hermione Granger!"
Her expression was grave. She could only hope Hermione's performance would be better; otherwise, she would have no face left.
Hermione stood up, glanced at Char, and then let out a long breath. She rubbed her wand, as if finding her focus. Then, she waved it. The match on her desk unsurprisingly transformed into an extremely gorgeous silver needle with hollow carvings. But she wasn't finished. Just as Char had demonstrated before, the silver needle began to undergo a series of dazzling changes.
Char sighed internally. For three weeks, Hermione had been staying up late to watch Snape while also finding time to practice. Her Transfiguration had clearly reached the Black Iron level, at least. Professor McGonagall's expression relaxed considerably, obviously very satisfied.
But Hermione still wasn't done. Her expression grew even more focused. She waved her wand, and the match reappeared on the table. The next second, it burst into a ball of fire, its color changing from blue to orange to a bright white.
Professor McGonagor's eyes lit up with the same joy she had shown when she had seen Char's performance. "A beautiful Tolman Transformation! Hermione, your Gamp and Tolman transformations were both brilliant. In all my years of teaching, the number of first-year wizards who have even dabbled in the Tolman branch of Transfiguration is incredibly rare. Fifteen points to Gryffindor!"
The ice on her face melted, and the Gryffindor students breathed a collective sigh of relief. It seemed Hermione's performance had saved them from a catastrophe. Hermione herself also let out a long breath, clearly relieved. Long before Christmas, she had found a spell in the library that could create blue flames, and she had used it to warm her friends. She hadn't realized at the time that it contained the principles of Tolman Transfiguration, but in the past three weeks, her study of that spell had allowed her to enter this new branch of magic. It was a bit of luck, but she had seized it.
She sat down, a trace of admiration on her face as she glanced at Char. The questions he had asked before his confinement showed that he had not yet truly mastered Tolman Transfiguration. And without access to the library, it was unlikely he would have been able to make any progress.
This meant that today, she had won. After being overshadowed by Char for so long, the girl who was used to being first in every exam finally felt like she could breathe again. She looked over at him, but her confidence wavered when she saw his expression. He was applauding her performance, and his admiration and surprise were genuine. But beyond that, he seemed completely unconcerned. A new unease began to creep into her heart.
"No way—"
The class continued, jumping quickly through the list of names. In the blink of an eye, Professor McGonagall announced the final name.
"Char Sprout!"