The heavy oak doors of the Transfiguration classroom creaked shut behind Arthur, the sound echoing with the finality of a gavel.
Professor McGonagall's lecture on the Inorganic-to-Organic Transition had been conceptually elementary, yet the execution gap among his peers remained vast. While Seamus Finnigan was busy conjuring a match that smelled of sulfur and regret, Arthur had produced a needle with a noticeable eye.
As he moved toward the library, his gaze remained fixed on the soft, translucent blue text flickering at the edge of his vision.
[Transfiguration Theory: Beginner (36.0%)
• Mana Sense: Beginner (21.5%)
"Insufficient," Arthur murmured.
Arthur had discovered what he called the "Wall" a long time ago. To most students, magic was simple—it either worked or it didn't. But for Arthur, there was a middle stage, like a strong fortress. This fortress was surrounded by a moat that you had to cross by practicing over and over again, and the only way to get through the gate was to have a body that could handle the demands of magic.
To ascend, it wasn't merely about the movement of a wand flick. He had uncovered a hidden bottleneck: the output requirement. To cast spells with fluidity, his Mana Sense had to reach the 50% beginner stage threshold. Without that sensory bridge, the internal flow was too turbulent, too "noisy" to allow for precision. Attempting non-verbal casting with a low Mana Sense was like trying to force a high-pressure torrent through a restrictive, rusted pipe.
Arthur bypassed the crowded tables where the Weasley twins were huddled over a suspiciously shimmering piece of parchment. He sought the section of the library dedicated to General Household Maintenance and Minor Alchemical Transmutations.
He dropped his bag onto a scarred wooden table, the sound muffled by a carpet of undisturbed dust.
He pulled three volumes from the shelf: The Theory of Focused Intent, Basic Scouring and Polishing, and A Guide to Water-Repellent Weaves.
Arthur's goals were not merely academic. He wanted to make his life easier by getting rid of the little annoyances that bothered him every day. If he reached the intermediate stage in miscellaneous charms, he could automate his lifestyle. His robes would stay pristine via a silent pulse of mana; his ink would never smudge; his books would be shielded from the damp, Highland air.
He drew his wand—vine wood, eleven inches, dragon heartstring. It was an extension of his arm, yet the interface provided the cold reality:
[Lumos: Beginner (96.1%)
"Ten times the repetition for a tenth of the vocal effort," Arthur calculated. "The trade-off is steep, but the tactical advantage is absolute."
He flicked his wand according to the movements recorded in the books.
The grinding started.
...
Sound of footsteps could be heard.
Arthur didn't bother to look up, he didn't need to, his Observe skill was already kicking in, even if it was still pretty new to him. He could tell by the heavy, rhythmic way someone was walking that they were lugging around a huge stack of books, way more than they could handle. The sound of their footsteps was like a dead giveaway, it was slow and labored, like they were struggling to carry the weight of all those books.
Hermione Granger occupied the far end of the table. She offered no greeting, and he expected none. She unloaded six heavy volumes, opened A History of Magic, and began a high-velocity transcription, her quill a blur of ink and motion.
Arthur couldn't help but watch her for a moment. He noticed how she moved with precision, not wasting a single motion, and getting the most out of every stroke.
Arthur spoke in a hushed tone, "You're looking into the goblin uprisings of the 14th century." Check the third book in your pile; there's a revised timeline on page 402 that you should see. The usual version has some problems with the number of casualties, which will mess up your thoughts on the Battle of Dead-Eye."
Hermione's pen stopped moving. She glanced at him, then back at the book. Without saying a thing, she pulled the book closer, checked page 402, and gave a firm nod.
"Thank you, Arthur," she whispered.
"Fixing the mistake keeps the information accurate," Arthur said, looking back at his own paper. "It just makes sense."
...
Arthur closed his eyes. He didn't move his wand. Instead, he sought the "buzz" behind his sternum—the mana.
[Mana sense: Beginner (21.2%)]
He sat completely still for 40 minutes, looking like a statue to anyone who didn't know him. But to Hermione, who glanced up at him every now and then, it was like he was humming with energy inside, as if the air around him was getting thicker and heavier, like something was building up.
[Mana Sense: Beginner (21.6%)]
[Mana Sense: Beginner (21.7%)]
Making progress was a real struggle, like trying to climb a steep hill with heavy weights tied to your feet. But Arthur Pendergast was a person who never gave up. He knew that being great wasn't about showing off in front of everyone, like they did in the Great Hall. Instead, it was about putting in the hard work, day after day, even when no one was paying attention. It was about being willing to repeat the same tasks over and over, thousands of times, until you got them just right. That's where the real greatness came from—not from flashy displays, but from the quiet, everyday efforts that most people didn't even notice.
As the day drew to a close, the sun's rays streaming through the windows cast a warm, golden glow across the library floor. At this moment, he noticed his Mana Sense had increased to 22.1%.
As he opened his eyes, a dull pain throbbed in his temples, a sign that his mind had been working too hard. He reached for his tea, which he had tried to protect with a spell to stop it from getting wet—though the spell only worked about a quarter of the time and was barely keeping the condensation under control.
Arthur packed his bag with mechanical precision. "Until tomorrow, Granger."
"Tomorrow, Arthur," she said, already deep into her seventh chapter, her eyes never leaving the page.
Arthur walked out of the library, his mind already calculating the remaining 27.9% of the Mana Sense threshold. He was behind schedule, but the system was functioning. The task was harsh, but the result would be perfection.