It would've been nice if the happiness could have lasted, but as classes began it became clear that this was going to be a long year. Transfiguration seemed to go on forever. Everyone was fiddling with their matches, trying to make them change. Eric knew the right steps, but not wishing to stick out, he decided to work on something different, seeming to struggle with the simplest of spells, but taking the remainder of his time to sketch out a personal project. He was finally making progress, and the idea of getting somewhere with it was eating him up inside.

Class finally ended with McGonagall praising that Herminey girl for making some amount of progress. Eric just packed up his materials to go, but didn't have far to walk before McGonagall's voice froze him in his tracks. "Eric Sable, please remain a few minutes."

She paced back and forth in front of him, very much like the cat she enjoyed turning into, before finally speaking. "You aren't quite as clever as you may think, young man. While I appreciate the effort you put into not drawing attention to yourself, it was quite clear that you didn't find today's class the least bit interesting. Would you care to explain why?"

Eric could have explained, but it was far easier to demonstrate. Drawing out his wand and foregoing the usual incantations, he simply waved it in a double spiral before tapping a matchstick, instantly shifting it into a rather ornate hatpin. "For you, Professor."

McGonagall was taken aback by the sudden demonstration. "Well, it certainly seems that you have your basics down. So why don't you show me what's taken up so much of your interest?"

Eric wasn't quite ready to share his work, but once someone showed an interest in him, he found it hard to hold back. Drawing out his notes, he laid out a series of detailed, intricate patterns. The spirals and knots held sigils of almost every kind imaginable. The professor examined it intently; first with interest, then her brow furled into a deep scowl. "Would you care to explain this, Mister Sable?"

Confused by her reaction, Eric nevertheless proceeded. "This is an algorythim for a Philosopher's Stone. You see, everyone acts like it's a natural substance; but in order to do what's expected of it, it has to be an intricate balance of enchantments and elements. See here? This shows how each layer has to be set one on top of the other in order to create the transfiguring powers of the stone. Natural elements and magical forces work the opposite; functioning based on the releasing of energy, not the overlapping of it. As a result, greater and greater restraints and guides have to be laid over the core elements.

"I'm not done, of course, but I've been working on this particular pattern for over three months, and I think I've finally got the first principles of how such a stone would work. If I can untangle this last section, the rest should start to flow out as a function of the founding patterns."

McGonagall stood silent, taking in all that was laid out before her. "Tell me, Eric, have you drawn any conclusions from this work?"

"Well, it certainly holds a lot of promise. Unfortunately, the balance that's developing is very unstable. I could be wrong, but anyone using such an item would have to spend twice as much time and effort maintaining the stone as he did using it. Otherwise, all the elements would crash in on each other, spinning out of control and shattering the matrix."

Eric waited for her to show him all his mistakes. The response he got, however, was completely unexpected. "An interesting theory, Mister Sable. Have you shared it with anyone?"

"No ma'am. So far, it's just a pattern. Without the core elements, it's nothing more than a theory."

The professor's face quivered for a moment, almost expressing relief before straightening again. "It's clear that we need to give you more of a challenge." She walked to the back of the room where a rack of shelved books stood vigilant. "This is my library, Eric. From now on, this seat in the back shall be yours, and I will leave a note on what I would like you to work on. You will find suitable reading materials set aside for you. If you find that you need further material, you may request it and I will see if it can be made available before the next class period. As long as you can prove that you can work under these conditions, this arrangement will continue. You will be exempt from the usual class work, and be given your own mid-terms and finals."

Once she finished speaking, McGonagall moved to leave. Eric suddenly paniced. "Um, Professor? May I have my work back?"

She turned back to face him, with an expression that almost suggested regret. "No, Eric, you may not. This is not the sort of material a first year should be studying. I strongly advise you to forget about this and work on the material I will provide you." She then turned and left, leaving Eric alone in the classroom.

While the thought of not being tied to first year work had briefly offered him the satisfaction of a challenge, the professor had just walked out with a year's worth of investigations. It was far from ready – the patterns forming would take years just to sort out, and then twice as much time to figure out the elements and enchantments needed as equivalents to the algorythmic patterns. But it was real work – the kind most wizards never bother themselves with, always seeking the easy way out or some quick result, rather than putting research into a goal that provides real satisfaction. Working on the Philosopher's Stone was the challenge of a lifetime, and now everything he had developed had walked out the door.