Seeing the [Transfiguration (Iron Grade)] ability appear on his system panel, a realization dawned on Char. He had assumed that, unlike his other spells, Transfiguration was too broad a subject to be recognized as a single skill. Now, it was clear his previous attainments had simply been too low to even register on the system.
A heavy sigh escaped him. Reaching just the Iron level had been this difficult. No wonder so many wizards joked that the subject should be called Transfiguration: From Beginner to Servitude. This would undoubtedly be the most challenging ability he had ever tried to improve. He couldn't imagine how long it would take just to reach the bronze level, let alone master the Shadowthorn technique for the Whomping Willow.
The bell had rung, signaling the end of class, but the students around him hadn't dispersed. They all stared at him with burning intensity.
"Char," one of the Hufflepuffs said, his voice full of awe, "that was amazing. I can't even get the match to turn into a proper needle. Is there some kind of trick to it? Can you teach us?"
A bitter smile touched Char's lips. There was no trick; it was purely a matter of talent. But looking at their eager, hopeful faces, he couldn't bring himself to say that. After a moment's thought, he leaned in, his voice dropping to a mysterious whisper.
"A trick? Of course, there is." The students leaned in closer, their eyes wide with anticipation. Char lowered his voice even further. "You just have to believe in yourself. You can only learn Transfiguration if you truly believe you can. Have you been doubting yourself? Go back to the common room and repeat to yourself, five hundred times, 'I can learn this.' Then try again. Maybe you'll see a difference."
The "secret" sent a ripple of excitement through the small crowd. "Really? I'm going to go try it right now!" one of them exclaimed.
As they hurried away, Char shook his head with a helpless smile. He didn't know if it would actually work, but perhaps it could help them overcome their mental blocks. If so, maybe one of them really could make a breakthrough.
Just then, the sound of an owl's wings echoed in the classroom. A letter bearing the official seal of the Ministry of Magic was dropped into his hands. His eyes lit up. Could it be? The compensation from the Ministry?
He opened it and saw it was written by Fudge himself. For a career politician who had likely never kept a promise in his life, Fudge had been remarkably efficient. The one hundred bottles of Devil's Snare cultivation potion had been delivered to Hogwarts on the first day of school and were waiting for him in the Potions classroom. Fudge had even added a magnanimous note, encouraging Char to use it as he pleased and assuring him that the Ministry, under his leadership, was dedicated to nurturing young talent.
A look of genuine joy crossed Char's face, and he sighed with sincere surprise. "Minister Fudge, I was wrong about you. You're such a nice person!"
He immediately quickened his pace and headed for the Potions classroom.
As he left, the Golden Trio, still stunned by his performance, finally emerged from the Transfiguration classroom. Hermione's face was a mixture of shock and a powerful sense of urgency.
"I can't believe Char's Transfiguration has improved so much," she said, her mind racing. "He must have spent the entire Christmas holiday cramming. And I was wasting time trying to find Nicolas Flamel. I've been left so far behind. No, I have to catch up."
Ron, on the other hand, was practically radiating jealousy. The way everyone had looked at Char, the center of attention—that was what he had always dreamed of. It was the very image he had seen in the Mirror of Erised. But that was an illusion; this was real.
"How is that possible?" he muttered. "His Transfiguration was as bad as ours before the holiday. How could he improve so much in just a few weeks? It's not normal. I bet Snape gave him something."
He gestured down the corridor. "Remember how Snape used potions to help Slytherin during the Lumos Charm test? It's got to be the same thing here. No wonder Char is so willing to be Snape's little lackey. Look, he's heading to the Potions classroom right now. He's probably going to suck up to Snape again."
"Ron!" Hermione snapped, her face flushing with displeasure. "Don't always assume the worst of Char!"
"And you shouldn't always defend Snape's pet!" Ron retorted.
Just as they were about to start a full-blown argument, Harry cut in. "Stop it, both of you. I have an idea." He lowered his voice. "I have my Invisibility Cloak. Let's go get it, then follow him to the Potions classroom. We can see what he and Snape are up to. Maybe we'll even hear something about Nicolas Flamel!"
Ron's eyes lit up, a malicious glee spreading across his face at the thought of finally exposing Char. Hermione hesitated, but the thought of protecting Hogwarts won out over her misgivings. She nodded.
Meanwhile, Char arrived at the Potions classroom, completely unaware of the trio's plan. A small, elegantly decorated suitcase sat on a table. But it wasn't alone. Snape was there, too.
"Come in," Snape said the moment he saw him. After Char entered, Snape waved his wand, sealing the door with a series of protective charms. He then raised an eyebrow and pointed at the suitcase. "That box of rubbish is the compensation you demanded from the Ministry?" His voice was thick with disdain. "These aren't potions. They are the self-righteous concoctions of mediocre minds, a complete waste of materials."
He scowled, clearly dissatisfied. "Did you think I was incapable of preparing such a low-level potion myself?"
Char was taken aback for a moment, then quickly recovered. "Of course not, Professor. Your skill with potions is unmatched in the entire wizarding world. I was simply afraid of wasting your precious time. Your time should be spent pushing the boundaries of Potions, not brewing simple formulas for me. I already feel guilty for taking up so much of your time with my training. How could I ask you to do even more? Besides," he added, "with so many potions, I couldn't have afforded the materials, let alone your time."
Snape's scowl softened into a cold snort of satisfaction. He picked up the suitcase, took out ten bottles, and handed them to Char without a glance. "These ten are the best of the lot. The technique is masterful. You can use them with confidence. As for the rest, I will have to… treat them. If you use them as they are, the Devil's Snare will likely suffer from malnutrition."
Char looked at the ten bottles. The packaging was still sealed. "Professor," he asked, confused, "how do you know these are the best ones? You haven't even opened them."
"You can't recognize your own work?" Snape said dryly.
Char's mouth fell open. "My… my work?" he stammered. "But the label says it was made by the 'L.E. Potion Shop'—" He stopped, the pieces clicking into place. L.E.? Lily Evans?
"Is this… your potion shop?"
Snape rolled his eyes. "You're not completely stupid, then. Do you think Potions research is cheap? Dumbledore is incredibly stingy. And I still have to make his tooth-whitening potion for free. If I didn't have a shop, where would I get the funds for my research?"
Char suddenly understood. It seemed some things were the same in every world. But in his past life, he had been a nobody. This life was different.
"Professor," he said immediately, "once this batch is used up, I will ask the Ministry to order my next supply from the L.E. Potion Shop."
Snape paused, about to protest that he didn't mean for Char to get involved in such things. But then Char continued, his logic impeccable.
"If you earn less money, your progress in Potions will be slower. Professor, if you don't make progress, then how can I? This is all for the sake of progress. And I, Professor, truly want to improve."
Snape's frown relaxed completely. A rare, almost imperceptible hint of a smile touched his lips. The boy's reasoning was sound. And quite clever. If Char could secure another order of this size, the funds would be substantial.
"I saw the points Professor McGonagall awarded you," Snape said, changing the subject. "For a perfect Transfiguration performance, she said. Your understanding far exceeds that of your peers?"
After Char nodded, Snape looked genuinely surprised. No one could have predicted such a breakthrough. A moment later, a decision formed in his mind. He took one of the potions he had just dismissed as trash from the suitcase and held up his wand.
"Since you have finally started on the path of Transfiguration, and your potions work is passable, watch carefully." The corners of Snape's mouth curled into a look of rare, undisguised pride. "Since I created this skill, I have never published it, nor taught it to another. I call it… Severus Potion Transfiguration."