Otherwise?
It was just a simple, somewhat embroidered pillow, with patterns and construction that could be said to be very undemanding, especially compared to the anatomical diagrams in the medical journal she was currently studying.
Those hidden fats, blood vessels, muscles, membranes, nerves, bones, organs, and so on, each one alone was far more complex than a pillow.
"Could Miss Black be more specific in her description?"
Seeing Professor McGonagall seemed dissatisfied with her answer, Lys transformed the pillow back into a rat, then cast the spell again.
This time, she deliberately slowed down the transformation process, allowing everyone to watch as the rat stretched, changed, and although the magical fluctuations were crude for the young wizards to sense, they could still feel it slightly.
The magic released didn't completely act on the rat-turned-pillow but rather assimilated with the newly formed fabric, interweaving like threads in the pillow.
And the weight was supplemented in the process, "appropriate amount, appropriate degree."
After explaining, Lys sat down and continued reading "The Peculiar Theories of the Patronus Charm." She wasn't intentionally ignoring Professor McGonagall's question, but the book mentioned that the soul and body would approach assimilation under time, which shocked her greatly...
Professor McGonagall lifted her head to continue guiding the students on what Lys meant by "appropriate amount, appropriate degree," because the young wizards sitting below seemed to have heard nothing, looking bewildered.
McGonagall shook her head; the child hadn't even dispelled her own confusion charm and ignoring charm during her explanation.
During the release of magic, those with weak control would cause varying degrees of magical dissipation, leading to insufficient or excessive magic in the transformation process, resulting in insufficient weight, excess weight, or redundant or missing forms.
Thus, precise magical control, or a strong computational ability, becomes crucial.
"If you really can't control or calculate how much magic your transformation needs, always being muddled, then your Transfiguration will never improve!" Professor McGonagall warned a few students with indifferent expressions.
Especially that Thomas; after graduation, his biggest possibility was to return home to inherit the family business, as he was the only male in the Thomas family.
So grades meant less to him than gathering a few people in the common room to help the Thomas family in the future.
When the class bell rang, this student had hardly raised his wand a few times.
"Ha, the Gryffindor lioness, what can Transfiguration do? In battle, it's not as useful as a few Dark Arts or Blasting Curses. Let's go, class is over, let's get some fresh air."
Lys hadn't removed her confusion charm and ignoring charm before class, so naturally, no one noticed her when class ended.
Turning the pillow back into a big gray rat, Lys poked it with her wand tip to confirm it was still lively before leaving.
Professor McGonagall, collecting teaching aids, could almost tell whose rat it was on sight, given the residual magical fluctuations...
Holding her Patronus Charm book, Lys headed straight for her next Ancient Runes class. This class still only had her and that Ravenclaw girl, but Lys was a bit dissatisfied with the progress.
She hoped to grasp more, faster.
Professor Babbling, a standout in this field, received the signal and set aside all textbooks, starting to bring out rubbings and relics to teach. Although it was challenging, Lys clung tightly to the professor's lead, keeping up with the pace.
But the Ravenclaw girl wasn't so lucky. Although she poured all her energy into Ancient Runes, the OWLs exams this year, crucial to her future, prevented her from whimsically aiming for just one O (Outstanding).
She dropped out of this class to attend seventh-year courses.
With only one student per class, there was no need to follow the schedule, so the other fifth-year students resumed their timetable, while Lys went to Professor Babbling's office for night classes.
In the staff lounge, Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were chatting.
"Exceptional magical control, truly exceptional," Professor McGonagall said, frowning, "If it were five years ago, I would never have believed that the child who blew herself into the hospital wing could become so outstanding."
"Oh, I believed she'd be exceptional back then, but I didn't expect her to amaze you so much, Minerva." Flitwick said to McGonagall, "That year, I noticed she had no rigid understanding of magic and was bold in practicing her ideas, which is precisely a fundamental quality an excellent wizard should possess."
He twirled his wand a bit nervously, "You know, this child seems to have a different pursuit of Dark Arts. Initially, I was uneasy, but last term, I realized she possessed a calmness and rationality uncommon among her peers."
"What's more, she's blessed with abundant magic..." Professor McGonagall added.
"Perhaps it's her bloodline? Or the incredible benefits from her magical outbursts since second year. Remember? She consumed nearly three years' worth of magical stabilizers. That Ancient Rune spell, I dare say, many old wizards can't cast it... because they wouldn't dare..."
"Albus should know about this, Minerva. Every child should learn more before making choices, shouldn't they?"
A deep sigh echoed between them.
..................
"..."
Lys lay almost speechless on a tree branch, putting away her book, watching Bartemius Crouch deceive a Muggle-born freshman like a madman.
Now she no longer needed to painstakingly replenish her confusion charm and ignoring charm daily. An alchemical headband did the job, its effect being to ignore, as long as she remembered to replenish the magic every few days.
Sitting up straight, Lys was curious about what Bartemius Crouch was up to.
Gabon slightly swayed its tail near Lys's ear, prompting her to sit more upright, signaling someone was near!
Someone? But who? Where? What was he/she going to do? Sensing no malice, perhaps just passing by? Unable to sense or see anything, Lys set the matter aside but remained alert.
Gripping her wand, Lys used a spell to knock Bartemius Crouch unconscious. Believing in the Dark Lord to the point of madness? Planning to torture two Muggle-borns to show loyalty in third year? Unfortunately, the Dark Lord never touched Hogwarts, only accepting graduates as followers.
"Troublesome, wasting my time, foolish Gryffindor!" Tossing Bartemius Crouch onto the grass facing the castle, and placing the freshman in a more visible spot, Lys dusted off her robe and smoothed her unruffled hair.
Couldn't the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher teach something useful? That Gryffindor acted like an idiot, arm outstretched, wand pointed straight, loudly shouting spells? In that time, she could cast ten Stupefy spells!
This wasn't some glamorous duel performance from a book, bowing, counting, then each casting a spell.
This was an unequal attack; not fleeing and seeking help at the first sign of trouble, but loudly questioning the opponent? Neither were smart.
After dealing with the two, Lys patted Gabon, who relaxed and nuzzled her hand.
Lys couldn't help but look around. Who was that spying earlier?
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