Professor McGonagall stepped onto the platform with no wasted words.
"Transfiguration is one of the most complex and dangerous branches of magic," she began. Her voice wasn't loud, yet the entire classroom fell silent instantly. "It demands precise control, powerful willpower, and a profound understanding of the object you wish to transform."
She paused, sweeping her sharp gaze across the room. "Today our goal is simple—you will turn the matchstick in front of you into a needle."
With a flick of her wand she intoned, "Forma Verto!"
The matchstick on her desk slowly transformed into a gleaming silver needle under the students' wide-eyed stares.
Gasps of amazement filled the classroom.
"Begin," Professor McGonagall ordered. "What are you waiting for?"
Strange incantations and wild wand movements erupted around Julien.
"Ferula Vero!" Casen swung his wand dramatically. His matchstick grew slightly thicker but remained stubbornly wooden.
"Your pronunciation is off," Edgar corrected beside him. "It's Forma. Watch me!" He demonstrated. Nothing happened.
Julien had already mastered the spell completely—thanks to the Twenty-Three Variations on Turning a Match into a Needle book Murphy had provided in the Magical Resonance Library, which he'd practised repeatedly.
Edgar raised his hand. "Professor McGonagall, I believe my pronunciation is correct. Could the problem be the wand movement? Should I flick first and then twist?"
Clearly, Edgar—like Hermione—had been studying ahead.
Professor McGonagall nodded approvingly. "A good question, Mr Finch. As I said at the beginning, the core of Transfiguration is precise magical control, a clear mental image, and a deep understanding of the principles of change. These matter far more than any flashy incantation."
"So in Transfiguration," she continued, addressing the class, "the spell itself is not the most important thing. Your understanding and visualisation of the target object is what truly counts. A wizard cannot transform something he knows nothing about."
"That makes sense," Casen whispered to Julien. "So what do we do?"
Julien smiled helplessly and shook his head. "You have to picture a needle in your mind—every detail. Only then do you cast on the matchstick."
"I get it now. Watch this." Casen tried again.
A faint spark flashed at the tip of his wand. The matchstick trembled. One end sharpened into a point, but the other end swelled into a tiny wooden ball, making it look like a ridiculous comma.
"Not bad at all, Mr Moretti," Professor McGonagall said, appearing behind him without warning. "You grasped the concept of 'sharpness,' but you overlooked the overall form. Concentrate! Remember—Transfiguration is not destruction. It is reshaping!"
She turned. "And Mr Black—why haven't you started yet?" McGonagall had noticed Julien lounging with his chin in his hand, watching his classmates with amusement.
"Oh, I actually had a question, Professor," Julien sat up quickly.
"You asked us to turn the match into a needle. Did you mean a sewing needle like yours, or a knitting needle? Or perhaps a magnetic compass needle?"
Professor McGonagall blinked.
Before she could answer, Julien continued, "Also, in weaponry there's a type of hidden projectile called a needle, and—"
"Enough, Mr Black!" McGonagall cut him off sternly. This student seemed so well-behaved during the home visit. He's starting to sound more like a Black than an Evans.
"Mr Moretti's imagination wasn't focused enough, but yours, Mr Black, is far too scattered!"
Fortunately, McGonagall had decades of teaching experience. "From now on, transform it into any kind of needle you like—as long as you succeed. Anyone who manages it will be exempt from tonight's homework."
"Got it! Watch me!" Julien declared loudly, mimicking Casen's tone.
He closed his eyes for a moment, visualising something carefully.
Then he spoke clearly: "Forma Verto!"
The silver lime wand tip glowed. Silvery threads of light wrapped around the thin wooden match. The wood colour faded rapidly as a cold metallic sheen spread from the tip, lengthening into a sharp, elegant silver arc.
At the other end, a tiny spark condensed and bloomed into a delicate five-pointed star, gently rotating as if it had captured a fragment of frozen starlight.
"WTF!" Both Edgar and Casen blurted out.
"This is an Eastern hairpin needle—or zan-style dagger. Women once used them to pin up their hair… or for self-defence. Please accept it as a gift."
Even Professor McGonagall mentally uttered a very unladylike "Merlin's pants!" She carefully picked up the hairpin, examined it for a long moment, then put it away.
"Very well, Mr Black. I accept your gift. This can truly be called a masterpiece of Transfiguration. I will cast a permanent strengthening charm on it so it lasts. Ten points to Ravenclaw!"
"Oh, and Mr Black—stay behind after class. The rest of you, continue."
…
Liriya's matchstick hadn't turned into a needle. Instead it had lengthened as if the wood were growing again—one end sharpened while the other sprouted tiny roots.
Liriya's face was pale. She seemed dissatisfied with her attempt.
"Interesting." Professor McGonagall had walked over and was studying both Liriya and the transformed matchstick with interest.
"Miss Liriya, your magic appears to carry a very strong regional characteristic. This isn't standard Transfiguration… it feels more like a manifestation of natural magic."
Liriya lowered her head, voice barely audible. "I'm sorry, Professor. In my homeland we do everything this way… but I don't know how to use the method you taught."
The classroom fell quiet. Gryffindors craned their necks curiously while Ravenclaws watched with thoughtful expressions.
Professor McGonagall was silent for a moment, then said gently, "Magic takes many forms. There is no absolute right or wrong. However, here at Hogwarts we teach a universal, controllable system of magic. Miss Liriya, I suggest you temporarily set aside your natural power and focus on understanding the basic principles of Transfiguration."
"Practically speaking," she continued carefully, "it means you should not try to change the object's nature, but rather reshape it."
She paused, then added, "Still, your ability is quite unique. It may prove very useful in Care of Magical Creatures one day."
"I understand." Liriya looked up. A flicker of gratitude appeared in her ice-blue eyes. She tried again. This time the matchstick at least became a thin iron wire, even if it still couldn't be called a proper needle.
By the end of class, very few students had succeeded completely. Only then did Julien truly realise how much the book from the Magical Resonance Library had helped him.
"Mr Black," Professor McGonagall said as the bell rang, "would you be interested in joining my Transfiguration Club?"