When it came to Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall was naturally one of the finest experts at Hogwarts. As the school's Transfiguration professor, she had spent years teaching students how to turn matches into needles, buttons into beetles, and ordinary classroom objects into things they had no business becoming. Her standards were famously strict, because Transfiguration was not a branch of magic that forgave carelessness.
But if anyone at Hogwarts stood above even Professor McGonagall in that field, it was Dumbledore. Before becoming Headmaster, he had served as the Transfiguration professor himself, and more than one powerful witch or wizard had passed through his classroom. Tom Riddle had studied under him, and so had Minerva McGonagall, which said enough about the depth of his skill.
Transfiguration was, at its simplest, the art of changing one thing into another. A match could become a needle, a desk could become a pig, and a teacup could sprout legs and scuttle away if the caster knew exactly what they were doing. The difference between those examples, however, was enormous.
Turning a match into a needle required very little magic. Even a first-year student could attempt it, provided they had enough focus and did not panic halfway through. Transforming a lectern into a living animal, on the other hand, demanded far greater power, control, and understanding, and even a seventh-year might fail if their foundation was weak.
Tyler and Jamie were not lacking in raw magical power. That had never been the problem. What they still needed was finer control, the delicate precision that separated brute force from true mastery.
In Transfiguration, control mattered more than most things. Use too much magic when changing a match into a needle, and the match might split, burn, or collapse into useless fragments. Use too little, and only part of it would transform, leaving a crooked half-match, half-needle monstrosity that would embarrass any student unfortunate enough to present it in class.
"Want to compete?" Jamie asked, glancing at Tyler with a spark of challenge in his eyes.
He leapt lightly onto the broad flying sword suspended in midair. The object beneath his feet was not merely a boat reshaped by Transfiguration. It had also been stabilised with a Levitation Charm, strengthened with additional spellwork, and prepared for speed with acceleration magic layered into its structure.
"No problem," Tyler said.
He stepped onto his own giant sword, feeling the transformed wood hold steady under him. The floating blade was a clear display of the level of magic they currently possessed, though Tyler knew better than to mistake it for perfection. The swords looked impressive, but they were temporary, and eventually the Transfiguration would fade unless fixed by stronger means.
That was the only pity. If they knew enough about ancient magical runes and could carve proper patterns into the transformed swords, they might have been able to stabilise the shape permanently. Unfortunately, while they had taught themselves many spells over the years, their knowledge still had gaps. Potions, runes, and certain branches of advanced magic were exactly why Hogwarts remained worth attending.
Otherwise, they would have had no need to come to school at all. Self-study could take a talented wizard far, but some magic was better learned from professors who had spent decades refining it. Books could teach theory, but they could not always correct the tiny mistakes that decided whether a spell became elegant or exploded in your face.
"Hey!" Hagrid shouted from his boat, staring at the two of them in shock. "What d'you think you're doing?"
His voice boomed across the lake, but neither Tyler nor Jamie looked particularly guilty. The sight of two first years standing calmly on enormous flying swords was enough to make the other students forget the boats entirely. Even the rippling black water and distant castle suddenly seemed less important than the impossible scene happening right beside them.
"Tyler, Jamie, you…" Harry stared with his mouth open, completely unable to finish the sentence.
Ron looked even worse. His eyes were so wide they seemed ready to fall straight out of his head, and he gripped the edge of the boat as if reality had become slippery. Beside him, Hermione's expression shifted through disbelief, horror, outrage, and reluctant fascination at remarkable speed.
"We'll go ahead and wait for you at Hogwarts Castle!" Tyler called.
He and Jamie rose higher at the same time. The two giant swords lifted smoothly above the shore, then shot forward with a sharp crack of displaced air. They swept over Harry's boat in twin flashes, robes snapping in the wind as they raced toward the castle.
"Come back!" Hagrid roared, standing so quickly that his boat rocked violently beneath him. "That's dangerous! Get back down here!"
His shout chased them over the lake, but Tyler and Jamie ignored it. They had fixed their feet to the swords with Sticking Charms, anchoring themselves firmly to the surface so they would not be thrown off during sharp turns. That left them free to enjoy the speed without worrying about an embarrassing tumble into the Black Lake.
"Wooo!" Jamie shouted, his usual composure breaking into open excitement.
Tyler laughed as his sword climbed sharply, then dipped toward the surface of the water before rising again. Wind rushed against his face, cold and damp from the lake, and the storm-heavy air tore at his robes. He controlled the blade beneath him with a steady stream of magic, guiding it through climbs, drops, turns, and sudden bursts of speed.
"This is brilliant," Tyler said, standing with his hands behind his back as the sword carried him forward. "This is what real flying should feel like."
The feeling was completely different from sitting on a broomstick. There was room beneath his feet, weight in the shape, and a kind of grandeur that made the whole thing feel less like riding a cleaning tool and more like commanding a weapon through the sky. Compared with this, broomsticks really did seem pitifully undignified.
Two sharp sounds split the air as the flying swords broke across the lake. In moments, Tyler and Jamie had crossed the Black Lake and reached the air near Hogwarts Castle. They could have stopped there, but neither of them had any interest in landing so soon.
Instead, they swept around the castle in wide, daring arcs. From above, Hogwarts looked even more astonishing than it had from the lakeshore. Towers rose like spears from the cliffs, bridges and courtyards spread between ancient stone walls, and warm golden windows burned against the grey sky like hundreds of watchful eyes.
They circled one tower, then another, skimming past narrow windows and high battlements. The castle's spires flashed by on either side, and the wind whistled over the edges of the blades beneath their feet. Below them, the grounds rolled outward in dark greens and shadowed slopes, while the Black Lake spread behind them like a piece of night caught in the earth.
Jamie angled his sword sharply around a tower, laughing when the edge of his robe snapped sideways in the wind. Tyler followed close behind, letting his own sword tilt just enough to feel the pull of gravity before correcting it. The magic held, the Sticking Charm kept his feet in place, and the whole world seemed to tilt obediently beneath him.
After a few circles around the castle, they turned back toward the lake. The first-year boats had already crossed half the distance, gliding steadily over the black water in a loose formation. The students inside were no longer staring at the castle in solemn wonder. Every head was tilted upward, watching Tyler and Jamie return.
"Hey!" Tyler called, waving down from the flying sword.
"It's Tyler and Jamie!" Harry shouted, looking up with undisguised excitement.
Ron was practically vibrating beside him. "That is the coolest thing I've ever seen."
The other first years erupted as the two swords glided overhead. Boys shouted in envy and admiration, craning their necks to follow every movement. Several girls stared with sparkling eyes, their fear of the storm and the lake forgotten entirely.
"That's amazing!" someone cried.
"I want to try flying like that!" another boy shouted, half standing before his boat-mates yanked him back down.
"They're so cool," a girl said dreamily from a nearby boat. "I think I've fallen in love. They can take me away."
Hermione looked scandalised by that last comment, though it was difficult to tell whether she was more offended by the flying swords, the broken rules, or the speed at which certain students had abandoned common sense. Neville, meanwhile, was still gripping Trevor as though the toad could protect him from everything happening above his head.
"Get down here!" Hagrid bellowed from the lead boat, red-faced and furious. "You two come down right now before you hurt yourselves!"
He had guided first years across the lake for years, and he had seen nervous students, excited students, crying students, and even one who had leaned too far over the boat trying to touch the water. He had never seen two first years turn boats into flying swords and use the sacred lake crossing as a chance to perform aerial tricks. For Hagrid, who took the ceremony seriously in his own way, this was enough to make his beard bristle.
"Want to experience flying?" Tyler asked, lowering his sword until it hovered just above Harry's boat. He reached down with one hand, his grin bright against the stormy sky. "Harry, give me your hand. I'll take you up."
"Harry, you can't," Hermione said immediately, her face stern. "It's too dangerous."
Her warning was sharp and sensible, which was exactly why it had the opposite effect. Tyler and Jamie had already been classified as hopeless in her mind, but Harry still had a chance to make a responsible decision. Unfortunately, Harry Potter had spent most of his life being ordered not to do things by people who hated him, and that had left him with a stubborn streak that did not always respect good advice.
Harry hesitated only until Hermione finished speaking. Then he reached up, grabbed Tyler's hand, and let himself be pulled onto the giant sword.
"Harry!" Hermione shouted, horrified.
Before Ron could decide whether to be terrified or jealous, Jamie swooped lower and caught the back of his robes. "Ron, I'll take you."
"Aaaaaah!" Ron shrieked as Jamie hauled him up by the collar and set him on the flying sword. The moment his feet touched the surface, he wrapped both arms around Jamie's arm and held on as though death itself were trying to drag him away.
"Fly!" Jamie shouted.
The two swords surged forward at once, carrying Tyler, Harry, Jamie, and Ron toward Hogwarts Castle. Harry clung tightly to Tyler's arm, eyes squeezed shut at first as cold wind slammed into his face. The lake dropped away beneath them, the boats shrinking behind them, and the castle rushed closer with every heartbeat.
After a few seconds, Harry forced one eye open. Then the other. The fear did not vanish, but wonder rose through it, fierce and bright, as he saw the black water racing below, the castle towers ahead, and the wind tearing past like something alive.
"How is it?" Tyler asked with a smile. "Do you like flying?"
"Of course," Harry said. "I love it."
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