Although Professor McGonagall's voice wasn't loud, it carried clearly through the silent classroom.
Hermione, sitting beside Ron and Harry, suddenly turned her head, her face filled with disbelief. Was it possible that the famously strict Professor McGonagall was playing favorites? And could there really be a student talented enough to transfigure such a large textbook on the first day of school?
Everyone knew that the difficulty of Transfiguration Spells for beginners was largely related to the size of the object being transfigured. This was because the spell had to alter the object's internal structure completely. That's why Professor McGonagall had prepared simple items like matches for first-year students instead of something more complex—like the tables or chairs in front of them.
Brian's vision darkened. He had no idea Professor McGonagall had seen him practicing with Sonia in the Great Hall that morning. He certainly hadn't expected her to call him out in front of the entire class. His carefully cultivated low-key image seemed to shatter on the very first day. He forced a smile and stammered, "Professor, I… I think this might be a bit too difficult. I don't believe a first-year like me, who's just starting to learn magic, can perform a Transfiguration Spell on such a large object. Actually, I'd be fine practicing with matches like everyone else."
Brian tried to salvage his image, but Professor McGonagall remained unmoved. "Mr. Brian, everyone has the potential to exceed their limits. As long as you stay focused, cast with intent, and visualize the object clearly, I believe you'll succeed."
She gave him no further chance to protest. Turning away, she began to guide other struggling students, leaving a stunned and speechless Brian staring at the Advanced Transfiguration Guide in front of him.
Hermione, equally dazed, had just witnessed Harry casually attempt the spell twice and transform his matchstick into an unknown object with pointed ends and a faint sheen. Meanwhile, she had only managed to change the match's appearance slightly. For someone who had always been a top student, this was a heavy blow. Watching Harry excitedly share his results with Ron, Hermione bit her lip and returned to her mechanical practice.
Brian was completely out of it. Even the small explosion caused by Seamus's failed attempt in front of him couldn't pull him out of his daze. Hogwarts was something else. First, the Sorting Hat had contradicted itself and teased him. Now Professor McGonagall was spying on him. And Snape—whom he hadn't even met yet—was already infamous. If things kept going like this, forget staying low-key—he'd soon be the center of attention.
But for the sake of that upgrade point... and the one-hour Transfiguration Master experience card, Brian gritted his teeth and decided to complete the task. Still, he swore to himself that this would be the last time he stood out in front of everyone. If he failed, he'd punish himself by eating that whole bag of Every Flavor Beans.
In truth, after reviewing his notes from the first half of class, Brian had realized there were some subtle flaws in his spellcasting. If corrected, he should be able to transform the textbook into a needle. He had intended to try it in private, but now he had no choice but to proceed in front of everyone.
Taking a deep breath, he waved his wand. The textbook twisted and shimmered under the influence of his magic, transforming into a silver needle—sharp at both ends, glinting in the light. Brian's heart soared; he knew it had worked. But he quickly withdrew the magical energy, and the needle reverted to its original form with a puff of black smoke.
The Gryffindor students around him gasped in regret. After all, a classmate completing the task would bring glory to their house—and surely earn them some points from Professor McGonagall.
Hermione, who had been watching, finally let out a breath of relief. If Brian had succeeded on his first try, it would've been devastating. Now, she could calm herself and continue her practice.
Time passed quickly with failure after failure. Aside from the exceptionally talented Harry, no one succeeded in completing the task. Brian pretended to keep trying while quietly observing his classmates. He now understood why Sonia had told him not to worry—no one succeeded on their first try. Of course, Harry—who had defeated Voldemort as a baby—wasn't exactly a fair comparison.
Professor McGonagall didn't seem to remember the difficult task she had assigned Brian. Apart from one brief check-in, she gave him no further attention. Near the end of class, Hermione finally managed to make her match maintain a stable needle-like shape. Though not a full transformation, it was a clear improvement.
Proud, she raised her head and shot Brian a defiant look before turning to lecture Neville. Poor Neville, already overwhelmed, fumbled under the pressure and caused yet another explosion.
Just as Professor McGonagall walked to the podium to end the class, Brian finally released his magic. The Advanced Transfiguration Guide transformed into a silver needle—complete and stable. Trembling, he interrupted the professor.
"Professor, could you please take a look? Does this count as a success?"
Professor McGonagall paused mid-sentence. Though she had been interrupted, she showed no irritation. She strode quickly to Brian's seat, picked up the silver needle, and examined it closely. A flicker of a smile lit her serious face.
Holding it up, she announced, "Brian has successfully completed the task—exceeding expectations. He has transformed a textbook into a perfect silver needle. This is very impressive and extremely difficult. For this, Gryffindor earns five points."
The Gryffindor students erupted in cheers. Applause echoed through the classroom as students clustered around Brian, slapping his back and congratulating him. Meanwhile, the Slytherins remained cold. Malfoy, in particular, looked like he had swallowed a lemon. First Harry, now Brian? How would his father react?
Amid the thunderous applause, Brian stood frozen, on the verge of tears.
Why is it so hard... to just be low-key?