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Chapter 4

A cat sat on the desk as the five boys walked into the transfiguration classroom. They passed Lily Evans, and James grinned at her. She shook her head and ignored him. Illiar heard Sirius stifle a laugh.

"Perk up, mate," he grinned. "At least McGonagall's not here yet."

Illiar could have sworn he saw the cat bristle. His mind fogged with some sense he didn't understand, and as he shook his head to clear it, he sat down next to Sirius at a table. But immediately, he had this feeling of being watched, and he couldn't tear his eyes away from the cat. There's something unusual about you, he thought. Somehow the creature was just too watchful; attentive. He was about to voice his suspicions to the other boys, when the cat stood and jumped off the desk, changing in midair to a very stern looking Professor McGonagall. The class gasped. The only one who seemed nonplussed was Illiar who was merely curious.

"You're an animagus!" exclaimed James.

"Correct, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said.

"A - what?" asked Illiar.

"An animagus is someone who can change into an animal at will, Mr. Ainet. It is very dangerous and difficult magic. Less than 10 wizards have succeeded in this century."

This was news to Illiar. He'd never figured it'd be so difficult to transfigure. He had heard at home of wizards that would often be seen as snakes, birds, or any animal. Then again, he had never talked to a wizard one on one, or tried anything himself. How could he have, when he hadn't even known he had magic? Plus, things could have changed in magic this far into the future. The land certainly had.

He was drawn out of his thoughts when McGonagall ordered the class to take out their wands. They would attempt to turn a match into a needle. Wand? Illiar felt his heart beat race. What the hell was a wand? He certainly didn't have one. Then he saw the others take out long, skinny, glossy cylinders of wood. Ah! He dug in his bag and pulled out one of his own. Thank you, Ameur, he thought once more. He still had no idea of the purpose these sticks had, but he sat contentedly for the moment, waiting for the professor to explain.

She wrote wands movements and notes up on the board, and explained how the match should be a needle when you finished. "Now I'll demonstrate," she waved her wand, and immediately the match turned into a perfect, silver, needle. "Each of you, try the movements in the air, but don't point to the match yet."

Illiar had to admit that he felt rather odd just waving the wand. Nevertheless, he imitated everyone around him. The wizards in his own time had no wands; at least that's what he thought.

"Let's get on with it…" Illiar heard Sirius mutter.

"Go ahead and try the transformation," the professor said, as the students turned to their matches. Illiar tried the spell. "Now don't worry if nothing happens on the first try. It rarely does-"

She stopped in mid-sentence, staring incredulously at Illiar. His match was now a perfect needle, and it was golden, not silver. Illiar's first triumphant expression disappeared as he watched the professor's and his classmates' expressions. He had done it, hadn't he? And on his first try! So what…?

"Damn," Sirius breathed next to him, eyes on the gold needle. Then he grinned up at Illiar, who now looked nervous. Illiar met his gaze, and didn't expect it when Sirius said, "Brilliant."

Then Illiar couldn't help but grin and then look questioningly up at the professor.

"Well…well done, Mr. Ainet," she said, almost grudgingly. "All the rest of you," she turned beck to the silent class. "Go on, I have yet to see your creations."

The rest of the class quickly turned back to their own matches. Illiar watched on with mild amusement as his classmates tried and failed to complete their own spells. Sirius was the next to succeed, holding his silver needle before James tauntingly. On James' next try he changed his match completely, and he stuck his tongue out at Sirius. Remus now had his needle, but Peter's was a just a silver match.

"Peter, it's not that hard," Illiar spoke to him gently.

"Easy for you to say!" squeaked Peter.

"You're practically dripping magical talent," Remus told him.

"Am I?"

"Did you not see McGonagall's face?" asked Sirius.

"Yeah I saw, and she kind of freaked me out. What was wrong?"

"Nothing! It was brilliant!" Sirius exclaimed again.

"I've never seen magic come more easily to anyone," James said.

"And yet the whole sorting hat thing," added Sirius suddenly, musing. "You're obviously powerful, but more…sensitive…? It doesn't make sense that magic would hurt you more."

"No, well, yes, the hat did hurt, but maybe the right word is aware. I'm more aware to spells."

By the end of the class, Peter was the only one who hadn't yet succeeded in changing his match into a needle. McGonagall complimented them on being the brightest class she'd had, but avoided looking at Illiar mostly. When she did look at him, it was with a glare. But a "curious and jealous glare," as Sirius had put it.

The bell rang and the students jumped up and headed out in a bustle, not wanting to miss their next class. The five boys were among the last to leave, for no one was in a hurry to get to potions. Illiar stood up and put his bag on his shoulder, following into the aisle. It wasn't until then he realized he'd left his quill on the desk. He turned around with his hand out to reach back to the feather quill, but it unexpectedly flew up on its own to his outstretched hand. Illiar looked the quill over with raised eyebrows, then, thinking nothing of it, he shrugged and placed it in his bag. He turned around to leave, but caught the Professor staring at him. She looked at him with wide eyes, like she'd never seen a boy before. Like he was some odd, frightening thing. He wanted so much to go up and ask, "Professor, why do you look at me like that?" but he kept quiet and walked quickly out of the room.

Next: Potions class. Oh, joy! Meet Snape, the Slytherins and another evil potions master.

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