Harry, of course, was familiar with Animagi. There were several Animagi in the Ashbringer group, who enjoyed transforming into agile and aggressive animals like wolves and tigers.
The consequence of transforming into a beast was that Harry felt no mental strain when casting Ancient Magic; he could perform his favorite spells without hesitation—shrinking animals and crushing them underfoot.
Although not very hygienic, it was strangely relaxing.
He simply didn't understand why the members of the Ashbringer group would scream in terror whenever they saw this spell… didn't they like it?
Soon, the classroom filled with students arriving one by one.
Perhaps because no one dared approach or provoke the cat, the new students merely watched from a distance, curiosity shining in their eyes.
Once everyone was seated, the cat suddenly leapt forward, and Professor McGonagall, dressed in her dark green robe, appeared before them.
"Wow!" Ron exclaimed instinctively.
"Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Weasley," Professor McGonagall said, nodding at him.
This unusual form of acknowledgment immediately piqued the young wizards' curiosity, and they straightened up, eager for the start of Transfiguration class.
"Transfiguration is the most complex and dangerous spell you will learn at Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall said. "Anyone misbehaving in my class will be asked to leave and will never return—I have warned you."
"I bet she was thinking of Fred and George when she said that," Ron whispered to Harry.
Professor McGonagall glanced at him, and then, with a flick of her wand, transformed her lectern into a pig, returning it swiftly to its original form.
The students were fascinated, eager to begin, but soon realized that transforming furniture into animals would take considerable time and skill.
After giving detailed notes on the complex concepts, Professor McGonagall handed each student a matchstick and instructed them to try turning it into a needle.
For Harry, this was a piece of cake. With a flick of his wand, he transformed the matchstick on the desk into a beautifully crafted needle.
"Wow, that's amazing!" Ron exclaimed instinctively.
"Mr. Weasley?" Professor McGonagall fixed him with a stern gaze. "No whispering during class!"
"But, Professor," Ron protested, "Harry transformed the matchstick into a needle in an instant…"
Hearing Ron, Professor McGonagall stepped forward and saw that Harry had indeed transformed the matchstick into a needle.
"Not bad, Transfiguration," she praised. "Mr. Potter has earned five points for Gryffindor."
The students applauded, partly for Harry's impressive feat and partly because Gryffindor had gained points.
All Gryffindor students knew it was easy to lose points but difficult to earn them—even as first-years.
Harry, however, maintained his composure and thanked Professor McGonagall with elegance.
Failing this second attempt would have made six years of study go to waste.
Professor McGonagall smiled—a rare sight. Looking into Harry's green eyes, she was even more certain that he resembled his mother.
By the end of class, only Hermione had managed to transform her matchstick into a needle.
However, because Harry's achievement was so remarkable, Hermione only earned two points for Gryffindor.
When class ended, Hermione squeezed between Harry and Ron.
"My goodness, Harry, how did you do that?" she asked rapidly, like a machine gun. "Professor McGonagall just spoke, and you turned matchsticks into needles."
"After all, Harry is the Chosen One," Seamus said from behind them. "You wouldn't expect the Chosen One to be ordinary, would you?"
You know what? Seamus's reasoning convinced Hermione.
Thinking about it, how could he appear in so many books without some special skill?
The group walked to the Great Hall and sat at the Gryffindor table.
"Ha, Harry," Neville said, "how did you do that? Can you teach me?"
"Oh, it's not that difficult," Harry said, finishing his juice and pulling out his wand. "Take this cup, for example. If I want to turn it into a bowl, I have to imagine what the bowl looks like in my mind, and then…"
As Harry spoke, the cup transformed into a blue-and-white bowl.
"Wow!" Neville eagerly raised his wand and pointed it at his own cup. The tip of his wand glowed.
Unfortunately, the cup only grew slightly larger.
"That's already very good, Neville," Harry encouraged. "Being able to make a cup change at first attempt is a great start—remember, the stronger your desire, the better the transformation… Well done, Ron."
To his left, Ron had already transformed his cup into a bowl with handles.
For someone working with a wand that didn't suit him very well, Ron was already showing exceptional skill.
Harry increasingly felt he should give his best friend a proper wand for Christmas.
Praise was always motivating, and Ron smiled broadly before adding with a touch of frustration: "I've been trying so hard to get that bowl, but I just can't do any better."
"You need to believe in yourself," Harry encouraged. "Belief is the greatest magic."
Encouraged, Ron picked up his wand again and cast a spell on the cup in front of him.
This time, the transformation was much better than before; at least in shape, it was a true bowl.
"You're amazing, Ron," Seamus said. "Look at that!"
For a moment, Harry had a bad feeling.
As he suspected, when Seamus waved his wand, there was a loud bang.
The cup didn't transform; instead, it shot into the air before landing right in front of the five of them.
"In a way, it had some effect," Hermione said, picking up the cup. "Look, at least the mouth widened."
The afternoon class was Herbology. A short, plump witch named Professor Sprout led them to the greenhouse behind the castle to learn how to cultivate exotic plants and fungi and understand their uses.
Harry was likely one of the best students in Herbology.
After all, a hundred years ago, his Herbology teacher had been none other than the most beautiful woman in Hogwarts, Professor Garrick, with her two braids.
It must be said, the appearance of a professor greatly influenced a student's enthusiasm for learning.
Harry, of course, also liked the kind and beautiful Professor Garrick, who always acted like a friendly older sister. He often found excuses to ask her questions after class, and Garrick, naturally, also liked the charming Harry. She not only answered his questions patiently but also taught him how to cultivate Chinese bitter cabbage.
Cassandra still complained about that.
"See, it's like a dog chasing a flying broom. It will never catch it, and even if it did, it wouldn't be able to control it."
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