November.
Snow fell over Scotland.
Thick, gray flakes drifted through the sky, sealing every window shut. The castle was much dimmer than usual for daytime.
"That's good,"
Dumbledore said to the young wizard before him.
"Your first lesson begins now."
Sean stopped feeding Mr. Fawkes, found a seat, and sat down, waiting as the old wizard set down the steaming purple teacup in his hand.
"Then let us begin with Transfiguration—or rather, magic. Where do you think it comes from?"
Dumbledore blinked and turned slightly, his purple robes rustling softly against the floor.
"If possible, I'd like you to answer me in one sentence."
"The heart that a wizard believes with."
Sean did not hesitate.
"A very good answer, but not quite excellent."
Dumbledore said meaningfully. He raised a hand, and a book flew from the shelf beside Mr. Fawkes.
Sean watched as Dumbledore opened The Wizarding Chronicle of Magic.
"Wizards build order in the depths of their own hearts, and so the power of belief gains a foundation…"
Dumbledore read lightly.
"This is the best explanation I have heard in nearly a century, but it is still not excellent enough. For a wizard seeking to complete all the magical subjects at Hogwarts, reaching this point would already be quite impressive. But for certain wizards, more should be expected."
The book closed softly, and a black wand covered in knobby protrusions flew into Dumbledore's hand.
Seeing Sean staring fixedly at it, Dumbledore even had time for a joke.
"The Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny, or the Elder Wand… call it whichever you prefer. Many people have coveted it, but I did not expect you to be among them."
The pitch-black wand was tossed into Sean's hand, and Sean shuddered.
Then something strange happened.
The instant Sean instinctively caught the wand, he felt a deep, instinctive revulsion.
Sean couldn't tell if it was Ravenclaw's revulsion, or something else… He looked toward his own wand.
"Oh, it seems your wand does not like it. If you wish to obtain the Elder Wand, it appears I won't be the only one you'll have to deal with…"
Dumbledore said cheerfully.
"But that is not our focus today."
The Elder Wand returned to Dumbledore's hand.
Dumbledore pointed it toward the window.
Outside, snow was still whirling.
Sean saw a Kneazle running lightly across the lawn, leaving a shallow trail in the fine, crystalline snow.
Its whiskers and the fur on its head were wet and rimed with ice.
Above it, the Forbidden Forest looked as if it had been enchanted; every tree glittered silver.
Then the Kneazle flew.
It rose higher and higher, flew through the window that had been transformed into a doorway, flew past the ear of a black-haired young wizard, and finally turned into a magnificent flame dragon. The dragon breathed fire, and the flames turned into multicolored sparks. With a bang, the sparks burst into ribbons right in front of Sean.
Sean's eyes widened.
Even he could not analyze what categories of Transfiguration had been used.
"I've always wanted to do that…"
Dumbledore said, stroking the Kneazle's head. Yes, it had already been changed back, and it was now so angry that it bit Dumbledore once before hiding behind the young wizard.
"Hmm… it seems it likes you more than it likes me."
Dumbledore said mildly.
Sean was silent. He thought the Kneazle probably didn't like Dumbledore at all.
"Is that… the Transfiguration you're going to teach me?"
Sean asked with a small spark of excitement.
"No."
Dumbledore denied it cheerfully.
Sean deflated.
"But it is something you will have to learn."
Dumbledore changed his tone.
Light returned to Sean's eyes.
"I heard from Minerva that you learned a new spell?"
Dumbledore looked leisurely at the young wizard.
"By wizard will—Elemental Activation."
Sean raised his wand.
In just a few minutes, the Headmaster's office underwent a tremendous change.
Fawkes's nest became a nest woven from herbs, the bookshelves became wooden figures, and even the teacups turned into ceramic soldiers patrolling left and right.
[You gained Phoenix (Fawkes) affection at Skilled standard. Affection +10]
[Phoenix Fawkes: Slightly Affectionate (Beginner) (99/300)]
Oh?
An unexpected bonus?
Sean was somewhat surprised.
"Truly excellent—"
Dumbledore smiled and clapped lightly.
"But far too reckless."
Slightly drained, Sean sat in the chair and listened carefully to Dumbledore.
"As we mentioned earlier, wizarding magic arises from belief. But the emergence of magic and mastery over it—well, you know, those are not the same thing."
Dumbledore's gaze grew deep.
"The terror of Dark Magic lies in the fact that it requires excessive power—or, one might say, uncontrolled power. Wizards have poured every cruel imagining into Dark Magic: mastery over dead bodies, the bringing of death, and the destruction of all things."
Sean immediately understood that these three forms of Dark Magic referred to Inferi, Avada Kedavra, and Fiendfyre.
"Then you can imagine…"
"The power of Transfiguration lies in control. The wizard controls everything."
Sean said.
"Right, and also not right."
Dumbledore tapped his fingers on the desk.
"What do you think a wizard should control first?"
"The order of belief."
Sean said thoughtfully.
A look of approval flashed through Dumbledore's eyes.
"Go on."
"If the power of Transfiguration comes from a wizard's absolute control over reality—or rather, from the wizard's alteration of reality—then the first thing a wizard must control is the power of order within his own heart.
It isn't enough for a wizard to believe that his magic will affect reality and produce change…
If possible, the wizard should believe in the specific change his magic ought to produce. For example…"
Sean's voice grew faster and faster. It was as though he had found something he had been searching for all along.
"A wizard should believe how long his magic can change the environment—
A wizard should believe how much of the environment his magic can change—"
Sean said with growing excitement.
The principle was very simple.
And yet Sean himself had failed to grasp it for so long.
Magic naturally possessed infinite power, but for a single wizard, the power they could normally mobilize would still vaguely fall within a certain range.
After placing limits on the order of belief, the wizard was like someone grasping the floodgate of magic.
Before, magic had surged wildly and without restraint, naturally causing enormous waste.
Now, by constraining the time and range of the magic, the magic became like a compressed and focused stream of water, and its effect naturally became greater.
Sean preferred to call it:
concentrating everything into a single point, then reaching perfection.
"That will be enough for today's lesson."
Dumbledore stood up.
"For the next step, I hope you can change…"
Dumbledore glanced at the exhausted young wizard, and the meaning was clear without words.
"I understand."
Sean felt his face heat up slightly.
So one reason he often drained himself dry was that his mastery over magic was still insufficient?
Sean thought of something deeper.
In the wizarding world, there was no saying that a wizard's magical power simply increased with age, nor any rule that they automatically became stronger as they grew older.
Yet the truth was that wizards did become stronger as they aged, at least from childhood to adulthood.
So what exactly was increasing?
Sean had always thought that perhaps the foundation of magic stabilized as the body matured, or perhaps knowledge and experience accumulated.
Now it seemed that what grew was mastery over magic itself.
The depth and vastness of magic always revealed themselves so unexpectedly.
That was one of the sources of Sean's endless motivation to study it.
"The Hogwarts library contains quite a few interesting books… The Roots of Transfiguration and A Manual of Transformative Magic can both be read alongside that notebook of mine in your hands. Ah, and I am very pleased that you chose my notes."
Dumbledore sat down with a hand on the chair, smiling.
Sean's eyes grew even brighter.
He had been studying Dumbledore's notes for a long time, but he still struggled helplessly with the obscure knowledge inside.
Now, with the original author teaching and explaining, Sean suddenly felt that the road ahead was wide open.
"Can I try it now?"
Sean asked cautiously.
Dumbledore had just told him class was over, but he was impatient to experiment.
"Of course. Though in a while, we still need to hold a welcome feast for Professor Slughorn. Ah, he hopes one of our assistants can attend…"
Sean nodded hesitantly. In truth, after gaining a deeper understanding of Transfiguration, he had no desire to go outside at all.
But now, Sean took a deep breath.
"By wizard will—Elemental Activation."
The Headmaster's office changed dramatically once again.
The walls moved, wooden boards transformed, and even the fireplace bounced out on little legs.
Sean kept reminding himself: only transform it for ten seconds, and only target this part of the space in front of him.
[You practiced Special Transfiguration (Elemental Activation) once at Expert standard. Material Transfiguration proficiency +50, Magical Transfiguration proficiency +50]
Success!
Sean felt with excitement that his Transfiguration had undergone an essential change.
Before, he had been like a switch, only controlling whether the magic appeared or vanished.
But now, he needed to control the entire river of magic, directing the flow of the current and every single wave.
At the same time, he had obtained his first Expert-standard Transfiguration practice result.
"Oh…"
Dumbledore watched quietly and could not help murmuring.
Not bad at all, that speed of comprehension. Even compared to himself, it was only one step behind.
This Transfiguration technique was naturally difficult. Otherwise, it would not have appeared in that notebook.
Its difficulty lay in the fact that for most wizards, simply being able to use magic—especially complex Transfiguration—was already very difficult, let alone imposing absolute mastery on top of it.
Especially for an advanced branch like magical transformation, where the wizard needed to add original magical circuits:
those magical circuits alone were enough for a wizard to spend years researching.
Never mind controlling every one of them.
Or with multiple Transfiguration, where the wizard needed to control every layer of the transformation.
Now, the wizard had to do all of that while also controlling them with precision.
The difficulty was not as simple as one plus one.
"Rest for a while. We still have a dinner waiting for us."
Dumbledore said with a smile.
…
In the blink of an eye, evening arrived.
Sean followed Headmaster Dumbledore downstairs to the Great Hall, where a table for thirteen had been set at the staff table.
Nearly all the professors were present, even Professor Binns.
He sat on a chair, and Sean strongly suspected he might actually fall through it.
Professor Snape sat there with a cold face, while Professor McGonagall chatted and laughed with Professor Terra.
Professor Flitwick, Professor Sprout, and Professor Sinistra sat together, sharing desserts with one another.
Professor Charity Burbage of Muggle Studies and Professor Bathsheda Babbling of Ancient Runes had both appeared as well, and the two seemed very familiar with each other, sitting side by side.
As for Hagrid, there was no one beside him.
There simply wasn't room.
Even Madam Rolanda Hooch had come. Sean had heard that she had been very busy recently because of the Quidditch World Cup.
She had also kept recommending that Sean try out for the Scottish national team, even though he had not graduated.
"It's lovely to see you in the evening, child."
When Sean took his seat, Professor Sprout winked at him.
"Good evening, Professor Sprout."
Sean said.
At that moment, the doors of the Great Hall opened again. It was Professor Trelawney, gliding toward them as if she had wheels under her feet.
Today, once again, she wore a green dress covered in metallic sequins.
"Sybill, what a delightful surprise!"
Dumbledore said.
"I was gazing into my crystal ball just now, Headmaster,"
Professor Trelawney said in her most misty voice.
"To my astonishment, I saw myself abandoning my solitary meal and joining your gathering.
How could I refuse the prompting of fate? I hurried down from my tower at once. Please forgive my lateness…"
"Of course, of course,"
Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling.
"I'll conjure you a chair—"
Sure enough, he conjured one out of thin air with his wand.
It spun for a few seconds, then landed with a soft plop between Snape and McGonagall.
But Professor Trelawney did not sit down. Her enormous eyes swept around the table, and then she let out a low scream.
"I dare not, Headmaster! If I sit at this table, there will be thirteen of us! Most unlucky! Do not forget, whenever thirteen dine together, the first to rise is certain to be the first to die!"
"There are fourteen of us, Sybill."
Professor McGonagall said impatiently.
"Sit down. The roast chicken is getting as cold as stone."
Professor Trelawney hesitated for a while, glanced at Professor Binns, and then slowly sat in the empty chair.
She closed her eyes and pressed her lips tightly together, as though waiting for lightning to strike the table.
Professor McGonagall stuck a large spoon into the nearest bowl of soup.
"Where is our new professor?"
Professor Trelawney asked.
"You must already know who it is, don't you, Sybill?"
Professor McGonagall asked, raising an eyebrow.
Professor Trelawney gave McGonagall a cold look.
"Of course I know, Minerva."
she said faintly.
"But we do not flaunt our omniscience. I often pretend to have no Inner Eye at all, so as not to make others uncomfortable."
"That explains a great deal."
Professor McGonagall said acidly.
Professor Trelawney's voice suddenly became much less ethereal.
"I see…"
Before she could finish, a plump figure appeared at the entrance to the Great Hall.
The young wizard's attention was also drawn by the opening doors.
The man at the entrance wore velvet robes, had a bald head, and sported an enormous silver walrus mustache.