Sean had never stopped studying Transfiguration. He had always believed it was a form of magic that was extremely practical and effective—whether in real combat or daily life.
Almost every great master of magic knows at least some Transfiguration, and those truly great witches and wizards have deep attainments in it—like Headmaster Dumbledore, like Grindelwald…
Thanks to a special aptitude bonus, Sean's progress in advanced Transfiguration from "object" to "magic" was always rapid.
He tried shaping flame into different forms. With a sweep of Sean's wand, a fire crab crawled out of the fireplace.
"Astonishing!" Professor McGonagall exclaimed; few first-years could command multiple advanced Transfiguration forms. It was a field that required a great deal of time to explore.
She was about to speak when a fire lizard darted out of the hearth. It streaked across the floor, leaving a long flame-trail behind, then became a pattern etched across the fire crab's shell.
Minerva McGonagall nodded in satisfaction—very good Transfiguration.
But when she looked to Sean, she saw he was still utterly focused.
Inside the Transfiguration office.
The fire crab swelled slowly, until it was the size of a chair. It "clack-clacked" its claws, blocking the view of Sean's wand.
Sean was struggling now, but his eyes blazed—he hadn't reached his limit.
He understood at last why, when Dumbledore cast Gubraithian Fire to open a path, his whole body swayed gently to a strange inner rhythm.
It felt like he had entered the same state—magic's own instinct guiding him.
He had always remembered the professor's teachings and never pushed himself to the edge of losing control. But now he had to test the limit of advanced Transfiguration.
The fire crab grew and grew until it touched the office ceiling; it lasted only two seconds, but the impact was plenty.
Most terrifying of all, the fire lizard's patterns were etched across it—this was multiple transfiguration.
It made the transformation more complex and stable, and immune to ordinary Reversal Charms.
Sean had been attempting multiple transfiguration ever since he learned advanced Transfiguration, because he knew a single transformation is very easy to break with a counter-charm.
In a wizard's duel it all boils down to countering and attacking—Finite, dark-arts counter-charms—these are the tools of unworking.
Now he'd put a lock on the spell. For a short time, breaking his Transfiguration became very difficult; and even if they managed, it wouldn't matter—he wouldn't be able to hold it for more than a couple seconds anyway.
"This is—" Professor McGonagall raised her head and watched as the fire crab flashed into firelight and leapt back into the hearth.
The dim fireplace flared to fierce life again.
Outside the door, a few upper-year Ravenclaws peeking through the crack stared, dumbfounded.
"Is that really a first-year? I won't reach that level even in fifth," Quidditch player Toya said, jaw dropped.
"I think I'm not awake—" Roger Davies muttered, giving himself a twist.
A stifled yelp followed.
"You could've just pinched yourself, Davies!" Toya hissed in anger.
"Hurts either way," Roger grinned weakly.
"Duel! Damn you, Davies! Because of your blunder, Transfiguration lost an irrelevant Dumbledore—but Quidditch lost its Eunice Murray!" Toya roared.
He meant Eunice Murray, a famously brilliant Seeker—the backbone of the Montrose Magpies.
The Magpies under her were the most successful team in the British and Irish League, with thirty-two League Cups and two European Cups; they had fans worldwide.
She once said, among other things: "Make the Snitch faster—right now it's far too easy to catch!"
"I disagree—he's Roderick Plumpton," another Ravenclaw jumped in, raising his wand. "Duel, Davies—just you and me!"
He meant Roderick Plumpton, captain of the Tutshill Tornados. He led them to five consecutive League Cups, setting a British and Irish record.
That legendary Seeker anchored England twenty-two times and holds Britain's record for the fastest Snitch catch in a single match (three and a half seconds, 1921 vs. Caerphilly Catapults).
So what is it that fills people with deepest regret?
It's when they might have had something—and missed it. Regret grows larger with each day of "if only".
Roger Davies bolted, the angry Ravenclaw Quidditch team on his heels.
If they could be this united on the pitch, Penelope thought, watching wordlessly, they'd have a real chance at the Cup this year—Ravenclaw could finally break Slytherin's seven-year streak.
With Sean Green among them—whether in professors' points or Quidditch—they were a juggernaut.
This was their best hope yet. Even if it took a little… "guidance", she would help Ravenclaw achieve it.
Back at the center of all attention—inside the Transfiguration office—
Minerva McGonagall was no less excited than they were.
"Incredible! I'm proud of you, my… child," she blurted.
Outside the door, Prefect Penelope, hearing this, felt as if she'd won the wizarding lottery. Hands pressed together, her breath fogged the glass.
With exquisite care she dispelled her Quietening Charm and Disillusionment, then walked faster and faster until she was away from the door.
Everyone was excited—including Sean.
[You practiced an advanced Transfiguration once at a Master standard. Proficiency +3000]
It was his first time casting advanced Transfiguration at Master level—proof that, for two seconds, he could even fight a regular professor—well, a regular Auror.
Though his Transfiguration strength had reached Master level, that didn't mean his combat power had.
In battle, no wizard would let him cast that long—never mind a spell that lasted two seconds.
But there was no doubt he could hide in the dark—and if the opponent didn't know, the surprise would be decisive.
Silence fell over the Transfiguration office.
In that hush, the professor spoke softly:
"Choose your life carefully, child. I know your heart already hears a call from far away—there's no need to look back at everything behind you.
Don't be bound by the past, child. Walk forward."
~~~
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