"Transfiguration is a highly advanced and rather dangerous branch of magic. At the same time, it's a form of magic you'll find yourselves using quite often in the future."
"You must approach it with seriousness and discipline. If anyone dares to cause trouble in my class, I'll throw them out—regardless of which house they belong to."
Professor McGonagall opened the lesson with a stern warning. It was only after every student sat up straight and gave her their full attention that she gave a slight nod of approval. Then, just as quickly, she offered a sweet reward.
She demonstrated the true wonder of Transfiguration.
With a light tap of her wand on the lectern, the sturdy wooden desk instantly transformed into a plump, snow-white pig, round and adorably clumsy.
The next sequence of transformations drew gasps and squeals from the young witches and wizards.
The pig morphed into a lion, its majestic roar shaking the classroom. A moment later, it twisted and stretched into an enormous serpent. The snake's cold, glinting eyes scanned the room, causing a wave of unease to sweep through the students. Those in the front row turned pale and stumbled over each other trying to retreat.
Even the Slytherin students didn't handle it much better. Sure, their house animal was a serpent, but that didn't mean they all liked snakes.
Tom caught a flicker of amusement in Professor McGonagall's eyes, though her face remained composed.
So, even you, Professor McGonagall, with your thick eyebrows and solemn face… you're hiding a mischievous side, huh?
A sharp crack echoed as the snake vanished and the long desk reappeared. The classroom slowly calmed down.
"This," McGonagall said, her voice ringing clearly, "is the beauty of Transfiguration. With it, you have the power to reshape the world. However, transformations involving large animals are for advanced years. For now, we begin with the basics..."
She handed each student a toothpick.
Their task for today: to turn that toothpick into a silver needle.
"When casting, visualize the silver needle clearly in your mind. Your mental image must be vivid and precise. Focus entirely—no distractions. Convince yourself that the toothpick is the silver needle. You must align your mental vision with the physical world..."
After explaining the key points, Professor McGonagall allowed the students to practice freely. Soon the classroom filled with whispered incantations.
Unfortunately, the toothpicks remained stubbornly unchanged.
Tom, however, wasn't chanting. He was staring into space.
[You have gained: Professor's Insight on Transfiguration – Credits +5]
[You have gained: Professor's Insight on Transfiguration – Credits +5]
The system prompt rang twice. Not only did he gain ten credits in total, but Tom also realized something more important—he'd discovered a new way to earn them.
Turning a toothpick into a silver needle? He'd mastered that back during the summer break. But McGonagall's explanation just now had triggered a new understanding. Was that what caused the bonus?
And the real surprise was still to come.
Professor McGonagall wandered between the desks, observing everyone's progress. Most of the toothpicks remained wooden and unchanged. Still, she didn't seem angry.
After all, transfiguring a toothpick into a silver needle wasn't just basic magic. While the transformation appeared small, it involved not only a change in form but also a shift in material—wood to metal. That was already beyond the first-year level.
But McGonagall wasn't unaware of this. Her choice of lesson was deliberate—an early test. It was difficult enough to challenge, but not impossible. A clever way to spot the students with real potential, the ones she could give extra attention to later on.
She sighed softly. She'd already observed half the class, and not a single performance had met her expectations.
Until she arrived behind Tom Riddle.
With a smooth motion, Tom traced a circle in the air with his wand, then gently tapped the toothpick. Right before her eyes, it shimmered and shifted into a silver needle—sleek, polished, and gleaming.
But that wasn't what stunned her.
This needle wasn't just any needle. Its surface bore intricate patterns—fine, detailed engravings so delicate and precise that it could be mistaken for a work of art.
McGonagall's voice rang out loud and clear: "Mr. Riddle has successfully performed a perfect Transfiguration on his first try—and with ornate embellishments, no less! Five points to Slytherin!"
The Gryffindor students didn't react much. They were all new here, and the old rivalry between houses hadn't sunk in yet.
The Slytherins, however, went quiet. Malfoy, especially, looked like he'd swallowed a lemon. His pure-blood pride was wounded—he hadn't succeeded, but a Muggle-born had?
Tom hadn't really cared about earning points… until the next system alert changed everything.
[You have received: Recognition from a Class Professor – Credits +5, Achievement Point +1]
[System unlocked long-term mission: "The Greatest Student in Hogwarts History" – All House Points earned will convert 1:1 to Credits, and at a 5:1 ratio for Achievement Points. Winning the House Cup yields bonus rewards.]
House points? He didn't give a damn.
But credits and achievement points? Now that was motivation.
For a brief moment, Tom even regretted not being sorted into Gryffindor. Wouldn't winning the House Cup over the next few years be practically guaranteed?
But no—he'd landed in Slytherin. And winning the House Cup here? That would take something drastic…
Like taking Dumbledore down a peg.
The House Cup had been pretty much rigged for years now. Part of it was to build Harry's fame—but more than that, it was psychological conditioning.
Dumbledore was grooming Harry, training him to stand up in critical moments, to develop the instincts of a hero. So when the time came, he'd have the courage to face Voldemort—and fulfill the prophecy.
Originally, Tom had no interest in Dumbledore's little "Savior Program." As far as he was concerned, Voldemort only had two possible endings—either get killed by Harry as per the original storyline, or get crushed by him once he'd grown powerful enough.
But fighting for the House Cup meant earning credits. Earning credits meant progress. And progress meant challenging the very system at its core.
Dumbledore, I hope you understand.
This is nothing personal.