Tuesday, Transfiguration classroom.
This was supposed to be Charms Class, but Professor Filius Flitwick had something come up and swapped with Professor McGonagall.
As the Slytherin first-years walked into the Transfiguration classroom, a tabby cat sat perched on the desk, sternly watching everyone enter with eyes ringed with dark markings.
Tamara entered the classroom, her gaze lingering on the cat for a second, a playful arc curving the corner of her lips.
Animagus.
Though Minerva McGonagall was a rigid Gryffindor in her memories, she had to admit that such profound mastery of Transfiguration was indeed worthy of a bit of respect.
Once everyone was seated, the cat leaped gracefully off the desk, twisting and transforming in mid-air to instantly become Professor McGonagall, wearing emerald green robes and square glasses.
"So cool!" Blaise Zabini whispered in awe.
Professor McGonagall ignored the exclamation, her expression as stern as a block of granite.
"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said bluntly. "Anyone messing around in my class will be asked to leave."
To demonstrate the power of Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall turned her desk into a pig and back again.
This impressive demonstration immediately silenced the room.
Tamara sat in the front row, twirling her holly wand, a confident glint in her eyes.
Transfiguration?
This was one of the fields she excelled in most in her past life; she had even created advanced Dark Arts Transfiguration products like the silver hand.
A mere first-year curriculum was not enough to trouble Tamara.
"Now, a match for each of you," Professor McGonagall said. "Today's task is to turn this match into a needle."
A match was handed out to everyone.
"Begin."
The classroom was filled with the sound of wands swishing.
Beside her, Draco Malfoy had already started impatiently. As a pure-blood young master, he had practiced at home.
Draco tried a few times, and finally, the match turned silver; though a bit crude, it was indeed a needle.
"I did it!" Draco looked at Tamara smugly. "How's that, Tamara? I did well, right?"
He desperately wanted her approval.
"Not bad."
Tamara commented nonchalantly, "However, I think it can be done even better."
Tamara gracefully raised her wand, a calm composure in her eyes as if she had already seen through everything.
She didn't even need to chant aloud, only needing to recite it in her mind along with precise gestures.
She flicked her wand lightly, pointing it at the match on the desk.
However.
The expected silver light did not appear.
The match lay quietly on the desk, motionless. It was still an ordinary, wooden, red-tipped match.
It didn't even emit a puff of smoke.
Tamara's smile froze on her face.
What happened?
Was the wand broken? Or was the gesture wrong?
Impossible; her movements were flawless, and her magic channeling was fine.
She waved her wand again, this time increasing the magic output.
Still no reaction.
Just then, that damn system notification sounded in her mind:
[Ding! Detected host attempting to use 'Transfiguration'.]
[System Prompt: You do not have extra points to unlock this spell.]
[Skill not unlocked, spellcasting failed.]
Tamara felt as if a bolt from the blue had struck her forehead.
"What... did you say?" she asked through gritted teeth in her mind. "Of course I know Transfiguration! I could even make Horcruxes in my past life! You're telling me I can't turn a match into a needle?!"
[Sorry, host, these are the system rules. Your physical body limits the expression of your talent. Until your attributes meet the requirements, you cannot use this branch of magic.]
[Friendly Reminder: Professor McGonagall is walking this way.]
Tamara stiffened all over.
She felt Professor McGonagall's gaze sweep over.
And beside her, Draco was staring at her, his expression shifting from expectation to confusion.
"What's wrong, Tamara?" Draco leaned in. "Is this match damp? Do you want to swap for another one?"
What a humiliation.
If others found out that the new queen of Slytherin couldn't even transform a match... the prestige she had worked so hard to build, her omnipotent image, would completely collapse at this moment!
Never!
A layer of fine cold sweat broke out on Tamara's forehead.
"System!" she roared frantically in her mind. "Is there a way? I need to use this spell right now, immediately!"
[There is a way.]
The system said leisurely.
[Do you remember there was an item in the Newbie Gift Pack?]
[Item: Designated Skill Book x 1.]
[Effect: Ignores attribute restrictions, forcing the user to learn and master a standard first-year spell.]
"Use it!"
Tamara almost screamed: "Immediately! Max out this damn Transfiguration spell for me!"
[Are you sure? This is a rare item; isn't it a bit wasteful...]
"Shut up! Use it!!!"
Compared to wasting an item, she could tolerate making a fool of herself in public even less!
For most people, future security is certainly more important than saving face.
But for the current Tamara, she had to establish an image and build prestige, which meant she could never lose face over such a trivial matter.
Especially in areas related to her own abilities.
[Ding! Consumed 'Designated Skill Book' x 1.]
[Forcibly unlocking: Elementary Transfiguration.]
[Unlock successful.]
As the system's voice faded, Tamara felt the blocked magic within her body instantly flow freely.
At the same time, Professor McGonagall had already walked up to her desk.
"Miss Riddle?" Professor McGonagall looked sternly at the unchanged match. "Encountering any difficulties? I see everyone else is practicing, while you seem to be... daydreaming?"
Surrounding gazes gathered.
Pansy was a bit worried, while a few students who didn't get along with Tamara seemed to be waiting for a laugh.
Draco was about to help Tamara explain.
"No, Professor."
Tamara looked up; though her heart was bleeding, her face still maintained that proud and elegant smile.
"I was just conceptualizing."
"Conceptualizing?" Professor McGonagall arched an eyebrow.
"Yes. Turning a match into a needle is too simple; I was thinking about how to make it... more in line with Slytherin aesthetics."
With that, Tamara raised her wand again.
This time, no obstacles, no lag.
Stored-up anger and magic poured out in that instant.
A light flick of the wand.
The match that had been stubborn just a moment ago instantly emitted a dazzling silver light.
It didn't simply turn into a needle like Draco's.
Under everyone's gaze, it twisted, elongated, and restructured.
As the light faded.
A long, pure silver needle radiating a cold, chilling gleam appeared on the desk.
Extremely fine and intricate snake-scale patterns were carved onto the body of the needle, every single scale clearly visible.
And at the eye of the needle, a tiny but crystal-clear red gemstone was embedded, resembling a scarlet snake eye.
Exquisite, magnificent, and carrying a breathtaking sense of artistry.
This was Tamara's work of spite, and the result of that precious item.
Total silence in the room.
The wand in Draco's hand fell onto the desk with a clatter.
"Merlin..."
Professor McGonagall picked up the needle.
She pulled out her wand to test it, her face showing an expression of unbelievable shock.
"Perfect molecular restructuring... even secondary micro-carving."
She gave Tamara a deep look, her eyes filled with both admiration and a faint, imperceptible trace of worry—this kind of talent was too similar to that person.
"Miss Riddle, this is quite simply a work of art."
Ten points to Slytherin.
A low murmur broke out around them.
"See, I knew she was saving something big!" Draco said excitedly to Goyle beside him. "She said she was conceptualizing! This is what a genius looks like!"
Tamara listened to the praises around her and watched Professor McGonagall's satisfied retreating figure.
Her heart was bleeding.
A god-tier item that could ignore rules!
Just to swap for a needle!
"This needle..." Tamara looked at the perfect artwork on the desk and whispered through gritted teeth, "...is truly the most expensive needle in history."
"What did you say?" Draco didn't catch it.
Tamara gave a weak smile: "What's the next class?"
"Defense Against the Dark Arts," Pansy replied from the side. "I heard that Professor Quirrell... is a bit weird."
Tamara's steps paused slightly.
Quirrell.
Or rather, Lord Voldemort's main soul.
"Is that so?"
A dangerous glint flashed in Tamara's eyes; someone had to pay for her displeasure today.
"Then I am... truly looking forward to it."