Written for Writer's Month 2022. Prompt #24: Bow.
Happy reading!
It was Harry's second day of classes at Hogwarts. He was still awed by everything around him – the great castle, the cozy dorms, the magic everywhere around... It was something from another world to him, and he reveled in the feeling.
He was headed to the Transfiguration classroom next, along with the rest of the first year Gryffindors. The class was supposed to be taught by Professor McGonagall, their head of house – if the older students were to be believed she was stern, but fair. Harry was hoping that was the case; he wouldn't mind her being stern, but he would prefer it if she were just.
They reached the classroom and took their places with a minute to spare. Some students talked among themselves, comparing their impressions from the classes they had already had. Harry didn't participate in those conversations – instead, he took out his book, parchment and quill, and prepared himself for the lesson. He could see a girl – Hermione, if he wasn't mistaken – do the same.
Just as he had put everything into place Professor McGonagall appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. Well, not exactly nowhere – she was standing where a few seconds ago Harry saw a tabby cat. Was the professor a cat? That seemed very strange, but he supposed magic could do stuff like that as well.
Judging by the reactions of the rest of the class, she had been a cat up until a moment ago. That was pretty cool – maybe they would learn to do that as well? However, Harry didn't have much time to ponder that – soon enough Professor McGonagall began speaking.
- Good morning, students. This is your first class of Transfiguration; that is, the art of changing the shape and overall characteristics of objects. It is a highly useful and interesting branch of magic – however, it can be quite dangerous as well if practiced in a wrong way. Therefore, I demand absolute discipline in my classes – those of you who do not wish to abide by the rules may leave, and not return to my classroom. Is that clear?
They all nodded at that.
- Good. Now, for today's lesson, you'll attempt to transfigure a match into a sewing needle.
Saying that, she waved her wand. A match appeared before every student, out of nowhere.
- You must envision the match transformed into a needle – the picture of the needle must be strong in your mind. Once you have it, you wave your wand...
She showed the wand movement they needed to make.
- ...and point it at the match. There!
The match she pointed at turned into a perfect silver needle.
- Alright. Now, you should attempt to do the same.
Harry looked at his match. Picturing a needle in his mind, he waved his wand and pointed at the match – however, nothing happened. He tried again, and again, and again – still, the match remained unchanged. Getting a little frustrated with himself – after all, if he couldn't do the first lesson, how would he deal with the rest of the classes – he put his wand on the table. Taking a breath he tried to think of a way to make the spell work.
He was supposed to turn the match into a needle. Clearly, thinking about a needle wouldn't be enough. Harry took the match into his hands, taking in the differences between it and a needle. The match was rough, its surface riddled with small splinters. It was wooden and therefore a little bendable – also, though he didn't try it, the match could be easily broken in half. The color of the match was a light brown, as opposed to the silver of a needle. The match was blunt, and had a lump of red on one end – a needle was pointy on one end, and had a hole for the thread on the other end.
Thinking about all those differences, Harry took his wand once again and tried the spell. However, there were so many differences that he kept getting confused – he could focus on neither one of them, or else he'd risk forgetting about another one. Just as he saw Professor McGonagall head for the part of the classroom he was seated at, he had an idea – why not change all those differences one by one? Figuring he had nothing to lose, he started waving his wand at the match.
The match first became smooth – no splinters stuck out from its surface anymore. Next, he turned it pointy on one end, and then made a hole on the other. Now the match had the shape of a needle – however, it was still light brown, with a spot of red on the hole. And it was still made out of wood.
Harry imagined the feel of metal – its cold temperature, its limited flexibility, its firmness and strength. He waved his wand once again, envisioning the needle-shaped match becoming stronger and denser in structure. He took it in his hand and checked and, to his joy, it looked much stronger than a thin piece of wood. Finally, he waved his wand once again and turned the color into a gleaming silver. Just as he finished, he noticed Professor McGonagall standing right next to him.
- Mr Potter! You did it! Congratulations – I must say I'm very impressed! Being able to focus one's magic into transfiguring an object step by step like you did, changing only one characteristic at a time, is astounding. And to do it so early, in your first Transfiguration class – well, that's practically unheard of! Twenty points to Gryffindor, Mr Potter, for the best first-class transfiguration I've seen in many years!
Harry was thrilled. It was the first praise he had ever received – teachers, and adults in general, usually considered him dumb, problematic, or both. However, seeing Professor McGonagall's reaction, he realized it didn't have to be that way – he could be praised as well. At that moment, he vowed to always do his best in Transfiguration.
At the same moment, Minerva came to a realization of her own. She hadn't had such a talented student in many years – definitely over a decade. Of course, he'd need to work on his skills – not all transfiguration could be done in phases, and even if it could it would be very time-consuming. However, the understanding of the subject and the fine control of magic he displayed showed her he had real potential, and she was determined to help him achieve it.
During his time at Hogwarts, Harry put a lot of effort into all his studies, but most of all Transfiguration. He practiced diligently, and spent much time poring over various Transfiguration theory texts. Professor McGonagall always had a kind word for him, but at the same time, she insisted on his working being perfect – she made sure he did everything to the very best of his abilities. Thanks to it all, Harry enjoyed her classes and thrived in her subject.
Once OWLs came he got an easy O. Minerva's old friend, Judith, was one of the Ministry-appointed examiners, and she had only the highest praise for Harry. Minerva was extremely proud.
Once sixth year rolled around, he became her Apprentice. It was a little unorthodox – usually students first finished their NEWTs and then took apprenticeships, but she felt his talent and dedication accounted for such an exception. As it turned out, she had been right – he had risen to the challenge quite admirably, and she couldn't have been more satisfied with his progress.
The following year brought the war at its worst. Harry was no longer at Hogwarts, and Minerva didn't see him for months. She was worried about him; scared, if she were honest to herself. She couldn't stop thinking about how unfair it all was – he was just a boy! Why should he have to be chased to death by a madman?
When she saw him at Hogwarts right before the battle she had mixed feelings. On the one hand, she was overjoyed to see him alive and remotely-well; the sight calmed her at least a little. On the other hand, though, she was scared – he was in the thick of it once again, and she had no way of making him safer.
At one moment she had thought him dead. The ice in her heart surprised her a little – she had known she cared for him for a long time, but she hadn't expected to feel the loss quite that keenly. She was devastated – he had become more than a student; she had begun seeing him as a protégé of sorts, someone she loved.
Thankfully, he wasn't truly dead – he stood up once more and fought with them all, making the battle end. The war was finally over, and the wizarding world could finally live in peace. She wasn't seriously hurt, and neither was he. She was relieved.
He came back to Hogwarts the next year, wanting to finish his Apprenticeship. She was honored by his dedication – she knew he didn't need his Transfiguration mastery in order to get a job. After all, the Ministry had offered him a spot in the Auror squad, and he certainly had enough experience to succeed there. Once she asked him about it, he told her he didn't want to fight anymore – he loved Transfiguration, and he wanted to achieve his mastery. Nothing could have made her happier.
Two years later they were assembled at the ceremony where he would be pronounced a Transfiguration master. Many esteemed Transfiguration masters had come to attend, including her friend Judith. As he received his certificate of Mastery from the head of the Transfiguration Alliance of Great Britain, her eyes glistened with happy tears. She felt a nudge in her side, coming from Judith.
- You made a great Transfiguration master out of him, Minerva – you should take a bow as well.
Her cheeks colored a little, and her face glowed with pride. She turned to look at her friend and shook her head.
- It's not my accomplishment, Judith – not at all. It's all him.
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