Harry pressed for the reason Flitwick's face had changed. Flitwick wanted to deflect, but Harry wouldn't let up.
"If the professor won't say, you'd wrongly accuse your student. Snow flying in June, even Dou E would cry my injustice!"
Flitwick didn't know who Dou E was but could tell Harry would hound him.
He sat atop a stack of books, scratched his bald head, sighed long, and told those past matters in detail.
Proof in verse:
Hogsmeade raised the powder smoke;
Wizards, goblins, war unbroke.
Goblins toppled like mountains fall,
Signed the terms—admitting all.
"Lesser" rules were laid down then;
In Gringotts many sighed again.
Wands from that day taboo be—
Hold one and you'll pay with life's fee.
After recounting the wizard–goblin wars a century ago, Flitwick sighed again: "My goblin blood is probably one in a thousand—one in ten thousand, even. Perhaps a throwback. I look very goblin-like.
"Before I became a renowned dueling master, Ministry officials would always ask why a goblin held a wand.
"Sorry, Harry. I shouldn't presume ill of a sweet young wizard like you. It's just been a long time since any student asked me that sort of question."
At the sore spot, Flitwick turned glum.
Claimed by wizards; the Ministry treated him as less than human. Return to goblins; the wand in his hand made him a traitor. Truly, confused about where to belong—inside and out, neither person.
Harry laughed. "Good professor, you're taking it to heart. Just answer me one thing: were both your parents human?"
Flitwick blinked. "Yes—both were wizards."
"Then you're a fine wizard. If some filthy squawker comes to carp, fling a single charm and send him rolling three li!"
Flitwick stared a long moment; then blockage melted within and he laughed heartily. "Right—right! So it is!"
A word to wake the dreamer; clouds part, sun appears.
A man of feeling, he sighed and groaned, calling his decades wasted in pique with himself.
After a pause he said, "Ah—nearly forgot. You wanted a goblin smith, right? But, Harry, know this: goblins are greedy beings."
Hearing "greedy" and not "no way," Harry understood. He pulled a pouch of Galleons from his robe and offered it. "Without your connection I'd get nowhere. Please accept this small token. When the weapon is forged there'll be a richer gift."
Though goblin-blooded, Flitwick wasn't greedy. He shook his head. "Put it away, Harry. Helping students is what professors should do."
Harry didn't take it back. "Honoring one's teacher is only proper."
Seeing his insistence, Flitwick accepted—then, as Harry turned to go, flicked his wand and sent the purse flying back to its owner.
With a date set, Harry hurried to Transfiguration. The room was full, yet Professor McGonagall was nowhere—only a tabby cat stood on the floor.
Harry found a seat with Ron. "Where's Professor McGonagall?"
Ron hemmed and hawed, eyes cutting toward the cat.
The cat raised its tail, craned its neck, and paced to Harry, circling.
Irritated, Harry gave it a boot. "Hey! What stray cat dares stroke my fur!"
The kick came sudden and swift as a gust. The cat bristled and sprang away, claws spread, back arched, slit-pupils glaring.
"Ha!"
The class gaped open-mouthed.
"Don't—Harry, apologize," Ron begged with his eyes. "That's—"
Before he finished, Harry kicked again. "Still hissing? Have another!"
Halfway through the kick, the cat leapt—and turned into a person: Professor McGonagall.
"Mr. Potter!" she roared.
Harry had seen enough oddities since entering the wizarding world to stop being surprised. Seeing a cat become human, he rose, clasped his hands, and bowed. "Forgive me, professor. I thought you a stray—never guessed you were the professor's true body. I beg pardon."
McGonagall meant to scold but paused, puzzled. "What 'true body'?"
"Aren't you a cat that's cultivated into a spirit and taken human form?"
Ron squeezed his eyes shut; Hermione turned away; the class dared not look.
McGonagall's nostrils flared; her face twitched. "It is a branch of Transfiguration called Animagus! Only seven in the entire wizarding world can do it!
"I am a witch!"
Harry started. A fine Animagus—turning a human body into a beast form!
Learning only seven could do it inspired more respect. He bowed again. "My eyes were dull; please don't blame me, professor."
She ignored that and asked, worried, "Mr. Potter—faced with a harmless cat, why did you choose to hurt it?"
Techniques are easy; rectifying the heart is hard. McGonagall saw in Harry a violent streak and cruelty. How not to worry? Might he graduate a scourge?
Harry glanced around. "I can explain—if only the professor will hear it alone."
She hesitated but gave him face. She leaned in. "Speak now, Mr. Potter."
"My foot was measured, professor—aimed at the rump. It would hurt, but not injure."
McGonagall's face said nothing; the veins on her hands stood out.
She straightened. "Mr. Potter! Three minutes and eighteen seconds late—Gryffindor, minus two!"
She returned to the lectern; Hermione stamped her feet in panic.
The lesson that day was changing a matchstick to a silver needle. Harry listened carefully but produced only a needle-point; the shaft stayed wood.
McGonagall nodded. "Not bad, Mr. Potter—just a hair behind Miss Granger."
She was about to award a point when Harry said, "That's plenty. Poison the tip, and with a flick you could take a life."
McGonagall nearly blew smoke from her brow. She docked another point for "unsound thinking."
Days passed—Harry only lost points, never gained them—worrying Hermione to tatters.
"Harry! Can't you just behave and listen in class?" she fretted over breakfast. "Today is Professor Snape's class—he targets Gryffindor, especially you!
"Just sit still for one class, please?"
She had nagged for days like Tripitaka chanting a sutra at the Monkey King; Harry's head rang. He bowed repeatedly. "No more sutras, Big Sister. I'll do as you say."
Hermione's frown melted to a smile. "Promise?"
"Promise."
Owls flooded in; Hagrid's snowy owl dove for Harry.
Because she was female and pure white, he'd named her Snow-White Lady.
She nibbled his ear and begged toast. Harry unbound the letter; Hermione and Ron leaned in. The scrawl invited Harry for tea.
"Hagrid calls—how could I not go," Harry said.
He dashed off a reply, set a time, said he'd bring two dear friends, tied it to the owl's leg, and sent her off.
Presently they headed for Potions. Oily-haired Snape was already waiting.
Peeves even made a rhyme for the day to come:
Harry loses points galore;
Today he hefts the cauldron's ore.
Greasy Professor Severus Snape
Will scheme and make the points escape.
Join my patreon For Early access to Chapter : patreon.com/TheWorldGod
Tiamat 200 Chapter (Final)
Honkai 480Chapter
Lobotomy 110 Chapter
MushokuTensei 283 Chapter
'Pure Evil' Simulator Chapter Ending
Harry Want to be hero 30 Chapter
Crossover Fic Blapterue-Eyes Chapter Ending