Parts of this are word for word from the first book which I own a copy of but nothing more in case you thought I did.
The group work on their Transfiguration for the allotted time. Ron and Neville are slowly managing to make changes but Hermione has finally managed to turn her matchstick into a needle. It looks at least half as neat as Harry's as well which gives him a feeling of envy, that hers should be so good despite her having had no prior training whatsoever, and pride that it's because she has worked hard.
They each pass their match/needles to Harry who undoes each attempt and puts them into a small pocket inside his bag. Hermione is practically glowing with happiness and, despite his complaining, Ron seems pleased with his progress too. Neville is quiet but smiles, a little more confident in his abilities.
Hermione separates from them as they retreat to the common room, muttering something about studying. All three boys stare after her in confusion.
"We've only had one lesson- what's there to study?" Ron asks. Neville and Harry both shrug in bafflement, muddling their way back to Gryffindor tower for a brief game of Gobstones before Defence Against the Dark Arts.
Unfortunately the class is a disappointment compared to what everyone had expected of it. The classroom stinks of garlic, which prompts the Weasley twins to start the rumour that it was to ward off the vampire he'd met in Romania because he was afraid it would be coming back for him. Then he told them his turban had been a gift from an African prince (Harry privately thought he was taking inspiration from spam mail) as a thank-you for getting rid of a zombie yet tried to divert their attention with the weather when Seamus Finnigan asked to hear how he had defeated the creature.
It didn't help that the turban itself smelt funny.
Their first Herbology lesson wasn't so bad either- mostly just Professor Sprout telling them what not to touch or they'll die. For Harry this was only vaguely useful given Auntie Rowena's comprehensive tuition on fauna from all over the world (but especially from Scotland given her heritage). He also knew exactly which non-magical plants he could use to give similar effects.
Much to Harry's confusion Neville has a natural skill for plants and yet doesn't seem to mind the baby steps. He actually seems more at home in the greenhouse, smiling as he puts his hand up to answer a question. The boy quails a little at the attention from fellow students but- altogether- he manages well.
In fact Harry is fairly certain he has quite a few people's admiration, the Professor's and a large number of the Hufflepuffs none the least.
That evening the four eat together, Hermione, Neville and Harry talking about their impressions of all the lessons whilst Ron eats away at the mountains of food between them.
Hermione says goodnight early, leaving to her shared room to go over her notes for the day and look ahead for tomorrow's lessons. Ron and Neville play chess. Neville is losing spectacularly when the time comes for Harry to meet with Professor McGonagall. Ron barely spares him a glance but Neville smiles.
"Good luck Harry- I'm sure it'll go better than my chances here." He gestures to the game board and one of his pieces insults him causing him to blush. Harry leaves them to their game and leaves for McGonagall's office, hoping for some explanation of the rat-man.
He knocks on the door to her office and the door opens to the Professor sitting behind her desk. She welcomes him in, offering a cup of tea which Harry politely declines. The boy returns the matches and the teacher nods, replacing all but one in the matchbox.
"Now if you would please show me your transfiguration Mr. Potter." She places the match in front of him. Harry lets his wand hover over it and the magic spools out over the small piece of wood, sinking into its surface a little before he pulls it tight. A few threads remain but it's his best attempt so far.
The Professor leans closer, touches her wand to it, nods.
"Impressive Mr. Potter. Your proficiency at Transfiguration seems to be at an end of Second Year level. Would you please reverse the Transfiguration." Harry does and the teacher presses her wand against the surface again. She places that match back in the box with the others.
"Can I ask you to attempt to transfigure this quill-" She places a sharply cut feather in front of him, " into a stone." Harry observes the object for a second, looks at all the points he could anchor his magic and where the loops might pull it into the right shape. He grimaces.
"I can try." The Professor nods, tilts her chin up and observes as Harry lays the tip of his wand on the middle of the feather. The magic doesn't come so easily and Harry can see where it might have been a mistake to attach bits of it and other parts which need a stronger connection. The quill fold in on itself, compacting slightly as it forms a greyish sponge-like object.
McGonagall seems to be able to tell he hasn't finished yet. She waits. He undoes the Transfiguration and breathes in and out slowly, focusing on what he wants it to become and which parts he needs to change.
His second attempt is more successful. The feather contracts to an obviously grey blob, still slightly spongy in consistency but not full of large holes. The Professor seems pleased but doesn't smile.
"And now back." The magic recoils back from the Transfiguration, sending a strange pinching sensation through Harry's awareness. Professor McGonagall nods, coming to a conclusion.
"In time you will improve Mr Potter but for now your skills are only an indicator for your future. If you feel that you would benefit from extra instruction I am willing to make the case to Headmaster Dumbledore for the opportunity for either him or myself to give you one-on-one tuition." Harry just stares at her for several moments before stating robotically.
"I would be thankful for the opportunity." And all he can think about is a desk turning into a pig and the sky-ceiling.
"Very well. I will make enquiries. In the mean time I have been allowed to give you information on the events that transpired yesterday. Before that I would like to ask you some questions about your tuition." Harry feels his excitement squash down to a buzz of panic.
"Tuition?" He asks, hating the way his voice pitches up and cringing before he can stop himself. McGonagall looks at him sharply.
"Yes. Earlier you spoke of being able to see the strings of magic. This is a skill which is completely unheard of outside of the old masters and their apprentices. Hogwarts is perhaps the most prestigious magic school in Europe. Only three people in this entire faculty have knowledge of the skill and have acquired its usage. One of them is myself, one of them is the Headmaster and one of them is a former Duelling champion. This knowledge is not available for any amount of money, nor fame and cannot be self-taught no matter how magically powerful a witch or wizard is. This means that you have been tutored by someone of great power." Harry is silent. He hadn't realised- well he had but not to this extent- how powerful his Auntie was.
"I can't answer any questions- they made me promise not to tell. I shouldn't even be telling you that I have been taught by anyone but you already know so I can't do anything about it." The Professor's frown only deepens and she takes a deep breath.
"Mr. Potter I will not make you tell me anything. However I will request that as you are unwilling to speak to me you do not reveal your knowledge to anyone else. It will grant you an ease in many areas of magic which will make you a target for many people if you are not careful to hide how you gained this proficiency. If you ever wish to speak of your training you should find myself, Headmaster Dumbledore or Professor Flitwick." She shifts and places the quill back in a drawer.
"Now- I suppose you would like an explanation of yesterday's events." Harry relaxes just a little, relieved that the issue hadn't been pushed and resolving to speak to Rowena about it that night.