Chapter -67.
Life at Hogwarts was pretty laid-back and enjoyable.
Even if he went half a day without casting a spell, Dudley found himself breezing through various subjects without any stress.
Herbology and Potions were especially suited to him.
There was hardly a question he couldn't answer, no herb he didn't recognize, and no potion he couldn't whip up.
In History of Magic, Dudley spoke with ease, and even the forgetful Professor Binns had started to remember his name.
With those subjects in his schedule, Dudley's points often surpassed Hermione's over the course of a week.
This left the miss Know-It-All feeling somewhat downcast.
Of course, while Dudley boasted a wealth of theoretical knowledge, he also faced two subjects that posed a real challenge.
One was Charms, and the other was Transfiguration.
There was also Flying class, but that was just a fun hobby and not highly regarded compared to minor subjects in elementary schools.
Plus, it didn't even have a spot in the final exams.
Some young wizards really struggled with learning to fly.
In Charms and Transfiguration, theoretical knowledge alone wouldn't cut it; practical skills were crucial, which meant having to wave a wand.
Particularly in Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration classes, where her strictness and fairness as head of Gryffindor were well-known.
If a mistake was made, she would take away points without any hesitation sometime, even from Gryffindor students.
That morning, after exercising, Harry and Ron bumped into Peeves, the troublesome ghost, while changing in their dormitory on the way to class. Peeves' antics led them to the wrong staircase, and by the time they got to the Transfiguration classroom, the lesson had already begun.
"Lucky for us, Professor McGonagall isn't here yet,"
Ron said, glancing at the neatly arranged little wizards in their seats and the empty podium, feeling a wave of relief wash over him.
As he said this, Ron nudged Harry to help him find a seat.
The two seemed oblivious to the fact that while the professor hadn't arrived, the whole room was unusually quiet, with everyone sitting up straight at their desks.
Today's Transfiguration class was large, bringing together Hogwarts students from all four houses within the same grade. The seating was almost full, with only two spots available in the front row.
They made their way over.
"Hey, Harry, take a look at that."
Just as Harry was about to sit down, Ron's voice caught his attention, and when he looked in the direction Ron was pointing, he was taken aback.
There was a cat on the podium—a tabby cat, to be exact.
Harry felt a sense of familiarity about the cat, as if he had seen it somewhere before, but he couldn't quite place it.
"Hey there, little fellow, who does this cat belong to?"
Ron, trying to be funny, mimicked Dudley's earlier teasing of Mrs. Norris and reached out to pat the tabby, but it nimbly evaded him.
With a few chuckles, Ron dug into his pocket and pulled out some crumpled fish treats, waving them tantalizingly at the tabby.
He had brought them to bribe Mrs. Norris, hoping to use a trick Dudley would, but they had proven to be useless.
Mrs. Norris hadn't even touched them.
The treats were pretty lousy dried fish (more suited for dogs).
Dudley clearly spotted the label on the fish treats in Ron's hand.
What he didn't realize was that once Ron took out the treats, the little wizards around them began to exchange strange glances.
Only Harry suddenly understood the significance and turned to see Dudley's seat at the front.
Dudley nodded slightly at him.
As a passionate cat lover, Dudley could tell that the cat wasn't gravitating toward him but sitting obediently; can you guess why?
In that moment, a chill shot down Harry's spine.
He remembered seeing this cat before; it had been transformed by Professor McGonagall.
Unfortunately, it was too late to stop Ron, who had already handed over the fish treats.
Unable to hold back any longer, or possibly repelled by the unpleasant scent, the tabby quickly transformed.
In an instant, it changed back into Professor McGonagall.
Ron stood there, utterly speechless.
"Alright, students. I just showed you an Animagus transformation; this is an advanced transfiguration spell, and someday, you might get to try it as well."
"Of course, that will be after you achieve an O in Transfiguration on your O.W.L.s."
Professor McGonagall looked down with an unreadable expression.
Ron was too intimidated to look up at her.
This felt like a public execution.
"Arriving late to class has cost Gryffindor two points."
"I think it's about time you find a seat instead of standing there in a daze. And thank you, Mr. Weasley, for the fish treats, but I suggest you dispose of them since they're definitely not fresh anymore."
Laughter erupted among the students, and Ron could feel his face turning an even deeper shade of red.
At that moment, he wished he could disappear.
Unfortunately, that was just the beginning of his bad luck.
His earlier actions had successfully drawn Professor McGonagall's attention.
As we know all too well, being called out by a teacher in class can be rather unfortunate.
Today's Transfiguration lesson involved turning a small stick into a needle.
Hermione, the top student, was the first to transform her stick, flawlessly executing the standard incantations and wand movements until one end of the stick became sharp and metallic.
"Perfect! Gryffindor gains two points."
Hearing this, Hermione beamed with pride, sitting up straight as she flipped through the slightly worn pages of the Transfiguration textbook.
Meanwhile, Dudley took the chance while everyone was focused on Hermione to quietly pinch the stick with one hand and swipe it with the other.
Thus, he created a toothpick.
Professor McGonagall came over to Dudley and gave him a nod.
"Not bad. Slytherin gains one point."
He really had not managed to turn the wood into iron; achieving something that merely resembled it was about all he could manage.
Dudley referred to this as a physical transfiguration spell.
As the young wizards waved their wands to cast spells on the wooden sticks on their desks, Professor McGonagall quietly crept up behind Ron.
Feeling an intense gaze on him, Ron was suddenly under immense pressure.
After forcing a smile that looked worse than crying, Ron pulled out his wand—a worn and somewhat damaged one, with the tip even revealing some unicorn hair.
This was clearly not Ron's own wand.
It belonged to his brother Charlie.
With so many children in the Weasley family, their finances were quite tight, and Mrs. Weasley didn't deem it necessary to spend seven galleons on a new wand for Ron.
Could the old wand still be used? Sure, it worked, but using someone else's wand can be quite challenging.
Take Ron's wand as an example; at times, it would cast spells that were beyond his capability.
You might want to cast 'Disarm,' but instead, the wand decides to unleash a 'Blasting Curse.'
And this time was no different; after Ron muttered the spell and pointed his wand at the stick, not only did it fail to turn into a needle, but it also produced a sound like a comical puffing noise.
"Hahaha."
At that, the young wizards couldn't hold back any longer; even with Professor McGonagall in the room, laughter spread throughout the classroom, filling it with a lighthearted atmosphere.
Ron's face turned an even brighter shade of red, rivaling the color of his hair.
Note : Guys, some power stones will be really helpful.
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