He stepped out of the alcove and walked into the common room as if he'd just descended from the dormitories. A few students glanced his way. A couple waved or smiled in greeting. No one looked suspicious or confused.
Perfect.
James found an empty chair in a corner and settled in with a book from the shelves. The Travels of Archibald Thornwood: A Fifteenth-Century Wizard's Journey Through Asia. The prose was archaic and flowery, but the descriptions of magical communities in China, India, and Japan were fascinating.
As time passed, more students descended. The common room was filled with the pleasant hum of conversation. James checked his watch periodically, waiting for the gathering of first years that would mark the start of the day.
At seven-twenty, Xavier appeared with a cluster of first-year boys, including some who looked like they'd been dragged from their beds moments ago. Penelope arrived with the remaining first-year girls shortly after.
The prefects organized them in one section of the common room, getting everyone seated just as Professor Flitwick arrived.
"Good morning!" several older students called out cheerfully as the tiny professor entered.
"Good morning, good morning!" Flitwick replied, his voice high and enthusiastic. He was even shorter than James had expected, standing barely four feet tall, and he practically bounced when he walked, and his eyes twinkled with genuine joy.
Xavier and Penelope approached him with the gathered first years.
"Good morning, Professor," Xavier said. "These are the first years."
"Wonderful, wonderful!" Flitwick beamed at them, his expression radiating warmth. He pulled out his wand and, with a casual flick, copies of their schedules flew through the air to land in front of each student. The parchments settled gently, perfectly aligned.
"Welcome to Ravenclaw House!" Flitwick said, addressing the first years directly. "I am Professor Filius Flitwick, your Head of House and your Charms instructor. I cannot tell you how delighted I am to have such a bright group joining us this year. Ravenclaw has a proud tradition of academic excellence, and I'm certain you'll uphold that tradition admirably."
He paused, his expression becoming more serious but no less kind. "If you have any problems, any concerns, or any questions at all, my door is always open. Well, not literally always open, that would be impractical, but you understand what I mean. Come find me. That's what I'm here for."
His smile returned. "Now, off to breakfast with you! Classes begin at eight-thirty. Don't be late to Transfiguration. Professor McGonagall is strict about punctuality."
Xavier and Penelope led the first years out of the common room and through the castle toward the Great Hall. They took a different route than last night, and Xavier explained as they walked.
"This is the fastest way to the Great Hall from our tower. Straight down these stairs, through this corridor, down two more flights, left at the tapestry of Knights of the Roundtable, and straight through those doors."
The Great Hall was already filling with students when they arrived. Unlike last night, there were no designated areas for younger students. Everyone sat where they could find space. James slid into a spot near the middle of the Ravenclaw table, surrounded by a mix of years.
It was a quarter to eight. Students filled their plates with porridge, eggs, bacon, toast, and various fruits. James helped himself to eggs and toast, determinedly ignoring the pumpkin juice in favor of plain water.
Across the hall at the Gryffindor table, there was a commotion. Professor McGonagall was striding along the table, handing out schedules to first years with sharp efficiency. Her voice carried across the hall as she scolded students for being late or unprepared.
James pulled out his own schedule and examined it.
He had Transfiguration first, then Charms, both with the Gryffindors. Then History of Magic in the afternoon. Not a bad first day, though he wasn't looking forward to Professor Binns.
With twenty minutes until class, James stood. "Anyone else have Transfiguration first?" he asked the nearby first years.
Several hands went up. Anthony Goldstein, Terry Boot, Mandy Brocklehurst, and a few others James hadn't properly met yet.
"Want to head there now? We can ask older students for directions on the way."
They formed a small group and set off, stopping occasionally to ask for help. A helpful fifth-year Ravenclaw pointed them toward the right corridor. A portrait of a medieval lady gave them additional directions. They climbed and descended stairs, passed through narrow corridors and wide galleries, gradually making their way toward the Transfiguration classroom.
They arrived with ten minutes to spare. The classroom was already unlocked, and they entered to find it empty of students but full of equipment. Desks were arranged in neat rows facing the front, where Professor McGonagall's desk stood on a slightly raised platform. Shelves along the walls held various objects: cups, plates, animals in cages, things that had clearly been transfigured into other things.
The Ravenclaws claimed seats, choosing spots near the front and middle. James selected a desk in the second row, close enough to see everything.
Other Ravenclaws trickled in over the next few minutes, and then the Gryffindors began arriving. James spotted Hermione Granger immediately, her bushy hair unmistakable. She sat in the very front row, already pulling out parchment and quill.
Then Harry Potter entered with Ron Weasley, both looking slightly lost. They found seats together near the back.
James felt a small measure of satisfaction. He'd deliberately separated himself from the Golden Trio by choosing Ravenclaw. With any luck, their paths would rarely cross.
At precisely eight-thirty, Professor McGonagall entered the classroom.
"Good morning," she said, her Scottish accent crisp. "Welcome to Transfiguration. This is one of the most complex and dangerous forms of magic you will learn at Hogwarts. Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."
She paused, letting that sink in, then continued. "Transfiguration is the art of changing the form or appearance of an object. It is precise magic. It requires absolute concentration, perfect visualization, and controlled power. Done incorrectly, the consequences can be severe."
With a wave of her wand, words appeared on the blackboard behind her:
St. Mungo's Hospital maintains a dedicated wing for Transfiguration-related injuries.
"That should tell you something about how dangerous this branch of magic can be," McGonagall said. "Most injuries result from incomplete transformations, from rushing the process, from lack of focus. Some of the most dangerous humanoid creatures in existence are believed to have originated from Transfiguration experiments gone catastrophically wrong."
Several students shifted nervously in their seats.
"However," McGonagall's expression softened slightly, "when performed correctly, Transfiguration is also one of the most useful forms of magic, a good example of which would be the Animagi."
Interest sparked in the classroom. Even James, who knew about Animagi from the books, leaned forward slightly.
"An Animagus," McGonagall explained, "is a witch or wizard who can transform themselves into an animal at will. The animal form reflects something essential about the wizard's personality or character. It is one of the most advanced forms of Transfiguration, requiring years of study and practice, and it is heavily regulated by the Ministry of Magic."
Hermione's hand shot up. "How do you become an Animagus, Professor?"
"The process is long, difficult, and dangerous, Miss Granger. Many who attempt it fail. Some are permanently injured. That is why all Animagi must register with the Ministry."
"Are you an Animagus, Professor?" Anthony Goldstein asked.
McGonagall's lips twitched. "You'll find out in due time, Mr. Goldstein."