Hogwarts Transfiguration classroom.
Professor McGonagall stood stiffly in front of the podium, her expression serious.
The young Wizards sat in their seats, nervous yet expectant.
Professor McGonagall's sharp gaze swept over the class.
After a pause, she said in a clear voice, "Good morning, students.
I am Minerva McGonagall, the Deputy Principal of Hogwarts, and your Transfiguration Professor."
"Transfiguration is one of the most complex, most dangerous, and most subtle branches of magic you will learn at Hogwarts."
"Over the next seven years, if you work hard enough and possess the necessary talent and discipline, you will learn how to change the form and properties of objects.
From the simplest..."
Professor McGonagall lightly waved her wand, and the copper inkwell on the podium instantly transformed into a crystal-clear goblet.
"...to more complex transformations."
The young Wizards let out a gasp of astonishment.
Professor McGonagall's gaze showed no hint of pride; instead, it grew even more serious.
"But please remember: any form of Transfiguration is absolutely not child's play.
Careless, imprecise, or unfocused attempts will not only lead to failure,"
Professor McGonagall tapped her wand again, and the goblet twisted and expanded, turning into a startled guinea pig.
Then, with another flick of her wand, the guinea pig vanished with a 'pop', as if it had never existed.
"...but may also cause irreversible consequences, or even permanent harm."
The classroom fell silent, the excitement on the young Wizards' faces replaced by awe and a hint of nervousness.
Among the five, Hermione's eyes were wide and filled with a longing light, Harry, Ron, and Neville swallowed hard, while Nios seemed somewhat uninterested.
"Therefore, in my classroom, you will follow two iron rules: First, absolute focus.
Any distraction is a threat to your own safety and that of others."
"Second, strict discipline.
I will not tolerate any form of foolishness."
"Anyone who dares to misbehave in my classroom will be asked to leave and never allowed back in.
I have warned you."
Professor McGonagall waved her wand again; the podium turned into a pig, then changed back.
Professor McGonagall picked up an ordinary match and showed it to the whole class.
"Your goal today, and for the next few weeks, is to transform a match like this into a silver needle."
"Do not expect instant success.
The hallmark of successful Transfiguration is a stable transformation.
A half-wood, half-silver, or flimsy needle is no different from a failed match."
Professor McGonagall surveyed the classroom, her gaze still sharp.
"Now, open your textbooks, 'A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration', to the first chapter.
Take out your wands.
We will begin with theory, understanding the most basic conversion laws and wand movements.
Until you prove to me that you understand the principles and can maintain the necessary focus, I will not allow anyone to attempt practical application."
"Begin."
Professor McGonagall turned and walked towards the blackboard.
With a tap of her wand, the chalk flew up automatically, beginning to write complex formulas and diagrams.
The only sounds in the classroom were the rustling of turning pages and the tapping of her chalk against the blackboard, and the air was filled with a tense and focused learning atmosphere.
Professor McGonagall would occasionally pause, scanning the students' reactions, ensuring everyone kept up with her pace.
After more than half a lesson of complex theory, Professor McGonagall finally distributed matches to the young Wizards, preparing to let them begin practical work.
"Recall the principles of transformation I demonstrated," Professor McGonagall's voice was not loud, but it reached everyone clearly, "Clearly visualize the form of a silver needle in your mind: straight, cold, hard, sharp at one end, and with a tiny eye at the other.
Willpower must overcome the original properties of the material.
Your wrist movement must be precise; remember, it's a flick, not a wave.
The incantation is 'Acus Verto', and your pronunciation must be clear and firm."
Professor McGonagall stepped down from the podium and slowly paced the aisles between the desks.
Her sharp gaze swept over every young Wizard's wrist movement and level of focus.
"Begin your attempts."
Immediately, the classroom was filled with a chorus of uneven incantations, punctuated by various trembles and hesitations:
"Acus Verto!"
"A-Acus Verto!"
"Acus... Verto?"
Ron's face turned beet red as he yelled at his match, "Acus Verto!" and gave his wand a fierce flick.
The match emitted a small puff of black smoke, its tip slightly charred, but it remained a match overall.
"Oh, blast it!" Ron muttered.
Professor McGonagall silently stopped beside him.
Ron nearly jumped out of his skin.
"Mr. Weasley," Professor McGonagall's voice was calm but highly penetrating, "Did I not remind you, a flick? Rather than trying to force it into a needle with brute strength.
Concentrate, imagine it is a needle, rather than merely hoping it becomes one.
Try again, with a lighter touch, but stronger resolve."
Ron shrunk his neck, took a deep breath, and tried to keep his hand from trembling so much.
On the other side, Hermione's lips were pressed tightly together, her eyes sharply fixed on the match.
"Acus Verto!" With a precise, textbook-perfect flick of her wrist.
The match in front of her trembled violently, instantly covered in a dull, wood-grained silver sheen.
Although the tip was still blunt and the eye unclear, its shape had distinctly elongated and thinned; it was no longer wooden in texture!
Professor McGonagall's gaze fell on Hermione's desk, lingering for a full two seconds.
Her expression remained unchanged, but a faint hint of approval seemed to flit across the depths of her eyes.
She nodded slightly, said nothing, and continued her inspection.
This silent affirmation, however, made Hermione's cheeks flush with excitement as she glanced at Nios beside her.
His wand lay quietly on the desk, and he held a quill, intently drawing a complex magical array filled with mysterious symbols on a piece of parchment.
Harry recalled Professor McGonagall's movements and theoretical points.
He closed his eyes, trying to clearly visualize a shining silver needle in his mind.
"Acus Verto!" The tip of the match in front of him suddenly flickered with a faint silver light, but the light was fleeting, and the match returned to its original state.
Harry frowned, somewhat frustrated.
Professor McGonagall happened to walk up to him.
Harry's heart leaped into his throat.
"Mr. Potter, you saw a momentary change, which indicates that your intention captured the instant of form transformation.
The problem is that you failed to continuously apply enough pressure to stabilize it.
Transformation is not an instantaneous flash, but a continuous shaping process.
Imagine your magic as an invisible hand; the moment it turns to silver, firmly grasp it, stabilize its form.
Do not settle for a fleeting glimpse.
Try again."
Harry nodded; Professor McGonagall's words were like a lamp, illuminating his previously vague feeling.
"Acus Verto!" This time, the entire upper part of the match, about two-thirds of its length, glowed with a metallic cold light.
Although the lower part was still wood and the tip was not yet formed, the change was very stable!
Harry's eyes widened in surprise.
"Good," Professor McGonagall's voice sounded beside him.
"Correct direction, Mr. Potter.
Continue to stabilize it, complete the form."
Neville was too nervous, his wand movements too broad, and his incantation mumbled.
The match in front of him lay there, unresponsive.
Just then—
Hum!
A blinding, pure white light erupted without warning from Nios's desk!
It instantly swallowed everyone's vision!
The gaze of the entire classroom was firmly drawn to this sudden anomaly!
The light came quickly and went just as quickly.
After the light dissipated, everyone was astonished to find that the source of the light was the strange magical array drawn on the parchment in front of Nios!
Nios calmly picked up an exquisitely beautiful silver needle from the center of the magical array!
It was slender and straight, gleaming with a cold luster in the light.
Even more incredibly, intricate mysterious patterns were etched onto the needle's body!
Hermione was dumbfounded, her gaze switching back and forth between the silver needle in Nios's hand, the bizarre magical array, and Azazel's slightly bald head.
Azazel's mouth and limbs were tightly bound with tape, and he was currently writhing madly like an angry caterpillar.
If his mouth hadn't been sealed with tape, Azazel's roar would probably have ripped the roof off.
Professor McGonagall had instantly appeared by Nios's desk the moment the white light erupted!
She stared intently at the silver needle in Nios's hand, her brows tightly furrowed.
"Mr. Chaos," her voice carried an unprecedented gravity, "May I see it?
What… what was that just now?"
"Transfiguration," Nios said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, as he handed over the silver needle.
Professor McGonagall took the silver needle, feeling the cold metallic touch on her fingertips.
She carefully sensed it; there was not a trace of residual Transfiguration magic on it!
Nor were there any other magical fluctuations!
It was like a naturally formed, exquisitely crafted silver needle!
"Could you… demonstrate?" Professor McGonagall's voice was low as she handed him a new match.
"Of course, no problem." Nios took the match and placed it in the center of the magical array.
Then, ignoring Azazel's desperate whimpers and writhing, he expressionlessly plucked another small tuft of hair precisely from its head!
Azazel arched his body into a shrimp, writhing like a fried maggot in pain.
He also placed that tuft of hair into the magical array.
Then, Nios clapped his hands together sharply in front of his chest!
Next, he separated his palms, faced them downwards, and pressed them steadily onto the runes at the edge of the magical array.
Hum!
Dazzling pure white light erupted again!
After the light, a beautiful silver needle with intricate patterns, almost identical to the previous one, lay quietly in the center of the magical array.
Professor McGonagall picked up the new silver needle; the cold metallic touch on her fingertips and the absence of magical traces were identical to the first one.
She looked down at the complex, obscure magical array on the parchment, her gaze lingering on the ancient runes representing "decomposition," "reconstruction," and "equivalent exchange."
At this moment, she finally understood the essence of what Nios called his "invention."
This magical array was forcibly decomposing the match's material structure, then using some rule she couldn't comprehend to reconstruct it into a silver needle!
This was not Transfiguration at all!
This was more like… material reconstruction!
A rudimentary form of Alchemy that subverted all current magical theories, and an extremely dangerous one!
Professor McGonagall took a deep breath, suppressing the tumultuous waves in her heart, and tried to keep her voice steady: "I'm sorry, Mr. Chaos."
She gently placed the silver needle back on Nios's desk, "In Transfiguration class, you need to use Acus Verto to be recognized."
Nios seemed somewhat unwilling, his eye behind the eye patch showing inquiry: "This… really won't do?"
Professor McGonagall's expression was exceptionally serious, carrying an undeniable authority: "I'm afraid not."
Nios shrugged.
He asked Professor McGonagall for another match, picked up the fake wand on the desk, and casually tapped it: "Acus Verto."
Poof!
The match instantly transformed into a standard silver needle.
Then, Nios casually tossed the silver needle aside, as if he had completed some boring task, and continued to tinker with his mysterious magical array.
Professor McGonagall looked at Nios like this, sighed helplessly, and turned to walk away.
Nios knew that everything that happened in class today would undoubtedly appear, word for word, on Dumbledore's Principal's desk.
This was also the result of Nios's deliberate actions.
As the previous "Child of Destiny," Dumbledore would undoubtedly do his utmost to cultivate Harry Potter.
Since he had decided to snatch these favored ones from the hands of the Soul Sea, sending a clear signal to the current Chess Player, demonstrating his value and potential danger, was undoubtedly a way to establish initial "friendship."
From the moment the first white light flashed, Hermione had been in a petrified state, her mouth unconsciously slightly open, her eyes fixed on the magical array on Nios's desk and the silver needle he had casually discarded.
Nios looked at the surprised young Witch, then suddenly extended the fake wand into Hermione's mouth and gently poked her throat.
"Gah!" Hermione snapped back to reality, covering her mouth, and angrily slapped Nios on the shoulder, "Are you crazy?!"
Nios ignored her almost fiery gaze, a slight curve forming at the corner of his mouth: "See?
This is my 'Alchemy.' How about it, want to experience it for yourself?"