Burst stood frozen, staring at the shattered wreckage of his chair like he'd just watched his family heirloom get trampled by a hippogriff.
Meanwhile, Alex sat down as if he'd done something utterly routine — like tying his shoelaces or flipping a page in a book — not just publicly humiliating one of Slytherin's best transfiguration duelists.
The rest of the club sat in stunned silence.
Not because they didn't expect a difference in skill — they did. This was a first-year versus a sixth-year, after all. The gap was supposed to be astronomical.
But that gap had just flipped the wrong way.
Burst wasn't just any Slytherin — he was one of the few in his house with deep roots in the noble Twenty-Eight Sacred Families, and his bloodline supposedly carried a hereditary advantage in Transfiguration.
And yet, this proud descendant of a prestigious lineage had just been reduced to a splinter-gatherer by a boy who had only been touching a wand for two months.
Even the other students, who once might've fancied themselves on par with Burst, were now wondering:
Does that mean this kid just leapfrogged all of us?
That realization hit hard. The disbelief turned into something else — a quiet sense of dread, the kind that whispered: Is our time over already?
Are we just the leftovers of a fading era?
...
Clap. Clap. Clap.
A crisp applause broke the spell of silence.
Everyone turned.
Professor McGonagall's stern face had softened into something almost admiring.
"Excellent work, Mr. Gaunt," she said, her tone warm for once. "I must say, your grasp of transfiguration has far exceeded even my highest expectations."
She was smiling. Truly smiling. And if Hogwarts had a draft system, she would've traded three Gryffindors to get this kid.
Honestly, she still didn't understand why he'd refused Slytherin at the Sorting, but more importantly — why hadn't he come to Gryffindor?
Especially after witnessing how he leapt through the air to save Miss Granger — that was Gryffindor energy if she'd ever seen it.
But it was too late for regrets.
Shaking off the what-ifs, McGonagall straightened her robes and turned back to the rest of the room.
"Well, now that Mr. Gaunt has passed his trial," she continued, "let's begin our club discussion for today: the Second Principle of Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration..."
The rest of the group finally tore their thoughts away from the duel and settled in, scribbling notes and listening intently.
Even Alex paid close attention. He might be absurdly talented, but foundational theory still mattered. And hearing it from McGonagall — one of the finest Transfiguration masters alive — made it all the more valuable.
For the older students, the concepts might've been advanced. But for Alex?
They were just building blocks.
...
Two weeks slipped by. Halloween loomed just around the corner.
And with it came more grueling Quidditch practice.
Every night, Alex would massage Cho's aching shoulders after training, coaxing her through the fatigue and stress of balancing homework, practice, and Ravenclaw's ever-demanding expectations.
Every night, Cho cursed Roger Davies with increasing venom.
Alex, on the other hand, considered it a win. After all, every massage came with... fringe benefits.
But today, Alex had skipped training.
Why?
Simple.
Today was an auspicious day.
Well — in his own words, it was "inauspicious for weddings, but perfect for opening loot boxes."
In other words:
Card draw day.
Earlier that morning, Alex realized he'd finally saved up 10,000 gold — the perfect amount to hit the newly updated Halloween Event Banner.
The banner read:
[Limited Time UP - "Till Death Do Us Part: Severus Snape" now available. First gold card drawn is guaranteed to be Snape.]
Below that was the card preview:
"Till Death Do Us Part: Severus Snape"
Potion Mastery: 7
Dark Arts: 6
DADA: 5
Spells: [Classified]
Alex's eyes practically gleamed.
Lately, Snape had been riding him harder than a Hippogriff with a grudge.
While other students brewed basic cough potions, Alex got stuck making Euphoria Elixirs. While others learned to brew a sore-throat remedy, he was elbow-deep in cauldrons trying to whip up Beautification Serums — fourth-year level content!
At this rate, he'd be brewing Felix Felicis by Christmas.
His current potion talent was a solid 5 — excellent by normal standards, but it wouldn't survive Snape's sadistic curve for long.
This card, though? It would push him to a level where he could handle Snape's hellish assignments blindfolded. And if the gacha gods were kind, maybe he'd even pull some bonus potion knowledge cards in the mix.
Yes. Today was the day.
"System," Alex whispered, his tone gentle and coaxing, "use all 10,000 gold. Pull everything."
There was no answer. Of course. His system wasn't sentient.
Still, he added, "Don't you dare stretch this out for word count. Readers hate that."
Then he closed his eyes, took a deep breath — and listened.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
That sweet sound of magic.
Moments later, he opened his eyes.
Before him floated not one... not two...
But three shimmering gold cards, glowing with a light so divine it might as well have been sent from Merlin himself.
His jaw dropped.
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