Saturday dawned bright and clear.
Loren spent the whole morning with Hermione buried in the library, paging through volumes on Transfiguration. McGonagall had explained that at the club, each member could raise a question for group discussion. Loren, who had focused more on potions and charms so far, wanted to prepare properly. By noon, he had settled on a question worth bringing to the meeting.
Hermione longed to attend as well, but McGonagall's standards were strict. Only those who could master the Vanishing Spell before fifth year were invited, which excluded almost everyone young. With her low magical reserves, even with Loren's guidance, Hermione wouldn't manage before second year. And that was just the entry test—members also had to publish in *Transfiguration Today* at least once per year. Fail, and you were expelled.
…
At two in the afternoon, Irene Adler, a Gryffindor upperclassman, came to fetch Loren from the common room. She was the Gryffindor section leader.
She guided him to a classroom near McGonagall's office. The door looked like a blank wall. The only way in was to cast a Vanishing Spell. Irene demonstrated and stepped inside, leaving Loren to perform it alone—his first test.
Inside, the room opened wide. Sixteen students sat in a circle with McGonagall at the center: six Ravenclaws, four Slytherins, four Gryffindors, and two Hufflepuffs.
At Loren's arrival, McGonagall rose, and the others followed, clapping.
"Everyone, welcome our youngest member, Loren Angus. Loren, take a seat, then I'll introduce you."
Loren's gaze swept the room. Only chairs. No extras. With a flick of his wand, he transformed a chipped flowerpot in the corner into a cushioned armchair and summoned it to him. He sat calmly, earning a few impressed looks.
Introductions followed. Once each member had spoken, McGonagall addressed them.
"This is our first meeting of the year. Schedules are busy, so gatherings will be rarer. Continue to collaborate privately. Bring what you cannot solve to these sessions. Now, each group, present your article plans for *Transfiguration Today*."
Irene went first, demonstrating her group's research on multi-stage transformations. A sheet of paper became a bird, reverted mid-flight, turned into a frog upon landing, then back to paper. Loren, watching through magical sight, saw the trick: pre-etched runes triggered by stored magic. Clever.
Other groups presented in turn. Hufflepuff: enhancing food flavor with Transfiguration. Ravenclaw: reshaping already-carved runes to alter their effects. Slytherin: liquid transformations. Each project gave Loren sparks of inspiration, especially for combining alchemy with transfiguration.
Finally came open discussion. Loren leaned forward, eager.
"Can the Vanishing Spell be used as a basis for transforming air?"
The room blinked at him. McGonagall, though, nodded slightly, inviting him to expand.
"Why is Vanishing classified as Transfiguration? Have you considered what really happens when something vanishes?"
He levitated two blocks of wood. "Two options. Transfer Spell. Vanishing Spell." He cast both—one block blinked to another part of the room, the other simply ceased.
"Where did it go? What did it become?"
Ravenclaw's leader, Janes Heggler, hesitated. "You're saying… it becomes air?"
The idea clicked. Whispers spread. But Irene raised a hand.
"If Vanishing makes matter into air, then without a counterspell it's permanent. Doesn't that contradict Gamp's Second Law—that Transfiguration has limits and durations?"
Eyes turned to McGonagall. She folded her arms.
"Permanent transformations exist. They are often classed as dark transfiguration. The quintaped, for instance, was once a man."
Murmurs rose. Even a spell they had all used daily still held hidden depths.
But Loren pushed further.
"The point isn't permanence. It's this: if Vanishing makes air, then in principle, we should be able to target air itself with Transfiguration. If we can conjure something from air, why not reshape air directly?"
McGonagall fell silent. Others were struck dumb, then split.
One camp insisted air couldn't be transformed—that Vanishing was a special case. The other argued it was possible, they just lacked the method.
The room buzzed with debate, fourteen voices clashing, half and half across all four houses.
McGonagall, frowning in thought, didn't intervene. Loren leaned back, listening, a small smile playing at his lips. This was what he had hoped for—a spark, a door opening.
The Transfiguration Club had proven more than worth it.
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