Hollywood: Actor with equipment
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"Excellent performance!"
Professor Sprout closed the wooden crate and applauded warmly.
"Did Professor Flitwick teach you that charm?"
Rock stowed his wand. The variation had indeed been recommended by Professor Flitwick, who had later personally guided him through several practical modifications of the spell. So, the assumption wasn't wrong.
"Yes, Professor Sprout."
"Splendid." Professor Sprout nodded approvingly. "Alright, take a breather, child. Next!"
Theo stepped up behind Rock, casting another solid Lumos.
compared to previous Herbology classes, Professor Sprout seemed particularly fixated on ensuring the young wizards could handle Devil's Snare today.
She was practically handing out points.
As the second half of the school year arrived, the atmosphere at Hogwarts gradually began to thicken with anxiety.
This was most apparent among the fifth and seventh-year students. Just as Dumbledore had warned, they were facing the two most important examinations of their lives: the O.W.L.s and the N.E.W.T.s.
Even Penelope, usually composed, no longer looked relaxed when Rock and the others ran into her.
Her hands were always full of notebooks or textbooks. On weekends, Rock would often see her camped out in the library from dawn until dusk.
The common room was dominated by seniors discussing nothing but exams.
The lower-year students made a conscious effort not to disturb them. For Ravenclaws, preparing for exams was a sacred ritual—a way to demonstrate their pursuit of knowledge and wisdom.
---
Inside the study room, Rock had his head buried in his notebook. He had reached the threshold of Cross-Species Switching in his Transfiguration studies.
The core theory at this stage was the embryonic form of Vansitti's Theorem, which focused on understanding the magical threshold between converting animate and inanimate objects.
"Reparifarge!"
Rock closed his notebook and waved his wand at the teacup on the table. The porcelain twisted and morphed, reverting into a small white mouse.
Rock observed it quietly for a moment, letting out a sigh of relief only when he confirmed the mouse retained all its vital signs.
"I have to ask... are we even studying the same curriculum?"
Theo broke the silence, turning to look at Michael and the others.
"Definitely not," Michael said, his mouth feeling dry. "That's already second-year material, minimum."
Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration class was recognized as the strictest in the school. Her teaching followed a rigid progression from easy to difficult. So far, Michael hadn't heard her mention anything close to what Rock was doing.
They were still struggling with turning beetles into buttons.
"Rock, can you explain that?" Adam asked curiously.
Rock, who was putting the white mouse back into its cage, looked up. "Of course, but just treat it as extra theory. It's fundamentally different from the simple shape-changing we learn in first year."
"The key to Cross-Species Switching lies in technique—specifically, the mastery of bestowing or stripping away the 'illusion of life', and initially sensing the essential will of the target and its resistance to magic."
"What's the difference?"
Padma raised her hand.
"It's far more complex." Rock pointed to the mouse in the cage. "Transforming a living mouse is infinitely more complicated than transforming a stone of the same size."
"Because of the internal structure?" Theo blinked.
"Exactly. A mouse has bones, muscles, organs, and even nerves. Reconstructing that complexity requires significantly more magic and imagination."
Rock nodded. "But that isn't even the main issue. The main issue is that a living creature possesses life magic that maintains its own state. It will instinctively resist the Transfiguration spell."
"You have to 'kill' that active state, construct the static details of the object, and then ensure that when you revert it, the creature retains its life signs."
Rock finished his explanation and took a sip of water.
Seeing the bewildered looks on their faces, Rock rubbed his chin and offered a metaphor. "Think of it this way: You can't change the essence, but you can apply magic over its essence."
"Like a mask?"
Adam offered his interpretation hesitantly.
"Precisely." Rock nodded. "But we aren't at a level to touch upon that depth yet."
The study room fell silent again, everyone wearing thoughtful expressions. Rock went back to reading his notes.
---
Night fell.
With Thursdays being busy and weekends no longer his own, Rock cherished his late-night excursions even more.
During his trip home over the holidays, Rock had acquired a cloak of invisibility. It wasn't the Invisibility Cloak—the Deathly Hallow in Harry Potter's possession—but a gift from Theseus.
The material, naturally, was Demiguise hair contributed by Newt, woven with fabric enchanted with durable Disillusionment Charms.
However, Rock stopped just as he reached the main castle building.
Around the corner of a stone wall, a figure walked out slowly. The footsteps were heavy and dragging, moving sluggishly toward the staircase.
Quirrell?
Rock immediately held his breath, blending himself perfectly into the shadows.
Watching the figure ascend the stairs, Rock got a clearer look at Quirrell's state. He was hugging his arms tight against his chest, his steps unsteady and floating, like a marionette with loose strings.
Rock didn't linger. He withdrew his gaze.
Quirrell had been missing Defense Against the Dark Arts classes frequently this week.
Students had also mentioned seeing Quirrell talking to himself, as if holding a conversation with several people, before suddenly snapping out of it and fleeing in a panic.
This confirmed to Rock that the whispering voices were still taking their toll.
Going out this late could only mean one thing... he was hunting unicorns.
Ever since the unicorn had made contact with him that night, Rock had a lingering sensation—a connection that would alert him if the unicorn was in danger.
The connection was anchored to the unique magical mark the unicorn had left on the back of his hand.
As of now, the mark remained stable, which meant the unicorn was safe. Quirrell hadn't found it tonight.
Rock turned and left immediately. Tonight's excursion was cancelled.
---
Inside the Defense Against the Dark Arts office.
The moment he stepped inside, Quirrell forced himself to cast a locking charm on the door.
Then, he collapsed to the floor. "Master... please..."
Quirrell sobbed, his body racking with tremors. "The unicorn... it was too alert... I..."
"Shut up! I have endured enough of your rotting carcass!" A cold, high-pitched voice hissed. "The Parasitic Stabilizer has failed. Now, only the blood of a unicorn... can sustain my existence!"
"And you... cannot even find a single beast."
Even now, Voldemort, parasitic on the back of Quirrell's head, couldn't understand why Quirrell's condition had deteriorated so rapidly after taking the Parasitic Stabilizer.
Could the Malfoy family have betrayed him back then? Was the book they showed him just a decoy filled with false information?
Quirrell shook violently on the floor. "I... I will go look again... Master, give me another chance..."
"One last time. Frequent exits, even through the secret passages, will eventually alert Dumbledore... Your chances are few, and my patience has been generous enough."