A Certain Magical Hogwarts

Out of all the classes, Transfiguration was the one William was most looking forward to.

Cedric was particularly talented at Transfiguration, and during the summer, William had learned a lot from him. However, while William was interested in the subject, Transfiguration didn't seem to be as interested in him.

He finally realized that Transfiguration might not be his strongest suit.

In Charms and Potions, William had displayed considerable talent, especially in Charms. From the moment he first encountered magic, he had mastered the Levitation Charm. 

Tywin's lessons on various defensive spells had been child's play for him, and he performed them without hesitation or struggle. For most standard first and second-year spells, William could cast them on his first try with power far beyond his peers.

That was talent!

But Transfiguration was a different story. Despite his enthusiasm, his progress was slow. 

Unlike Charms or Potions, where he had a natural ease, William found himself struggling. He felt like he had transformed from a top student into someone just scraping by.

While some students could glance at a problem and instantly see a solution, others had to work through it repeatedly without grasping its meaning. 

In Transfiguration, William belonged to the latter group.

Not that he was terrible at it—he was about average compared to his peers. But after excelling in other subjects, being merely average was a hard pill to swallow.

The most glaring example of this was a matchstick. William had spent over half a month trying to turn it into a needle, and when he finally succeeded, the needle looked crude and misshapen. Meanwhile, Cedric had mastered the same spell in just two days, creating a perfect needle.

Two days versus fifteen days!

Now Cedric was nearly done with his third-year Transfiguration studies and was preparing to learn Animagus transformations. Compared to him, William felt like a speck of dust.

…

The Transfiguration classroom was on the second floor, bathed in sunlight streaming through the windows. It felt warm and welcoming, a stark contrast to the cold, gloomy Potions classroom.

William and Cho parted ways with Cedric at the hallway and entered the classroom together. The room was already bustling with students, especially Gryffindors, who were all well aware of Professor McGonagall's strictness and didn't dare be tardy.

Despite McGonagall being their head of house, the Gryffindors were secretly hoping that William would continue his streak of misfortune and send her to the hospital wing too—just for a day or two.

But they were bound to be disappointed.

After thinking carefully at lunch, William realized that the real cause of the previous accidents had been Marietta. And since she was still recovering in the hospital wing, this class was sure to go smoothly.

He would bet a Knut on it.

It wasn't about the money; he just trusted McGonagall's competence far more than the two bumbling professors still lying in hospital beds.

Boba Tea, William's orange tabby cat, followed him into the classroom, swaying lazily as it walked. Having slept all morning, the cat was full of energy and decided to tag along for a stroll.

 The warmth of the classroom and the absence of any unpleasant odors or stuffed animals also helped.

Most importantly, there was a peculiar scent in the air that piqued Boba Tea's interest. Something different, something intriguing.

Fortunately, the cat was well-behaved and refrained from marking its territory around the classroom.

William chose a seat, and Autumn sat down next to him. Most of the Gryffindors, however, took seats far away from William, as if afraid they might be splattered with blood if something went wrong again.

"Where's Professor McGonagall?" Autumn asked, scanning the room. 

She'd heard McGonagall was one of the strictest professors, but with only two minutes left before class started, she was starting to wonder if something had happened to her.

Cho glanced suspiciously at William, as did many others in the room.

William touched his face. Was he really that handsome today? He had already reached peak handsomeness, so it couldn't possibly have gotten any better, right?

Just then, Boba Tea, who had been lounging lazily on William's desk, suddenly stood up.

It had found the source of the strange scent.

There, on the front podium, sat a cat!

It was a stunningly beautiful tabby cat, with sleek fur and a perfectly proportioned body. Definitely not some pig that had been painted!

But what made this cat stand out even more wasn't just its appearance, but its demeanor. Its cold, piercing gaze didn't belong to a cat. It was more like a human's.

William suddenly recalled a character from a novel he'd read in his previous life—a clueless yet cunning cat named Black Charcoal.

He locked eyes with the tabby cat, and it stared back at him. For a brief moment, it felt like a silent battle of wits, each waiting for the other to make the first move.

Then, without warning, Boba tea leaped off the desk, holding its fish treat in its mouth. It dashed forward, its tiny legs flying across the classroom as it hopped from one Gryffindor's head to another, moving with a speed that defied its small size.

William's face turned pale as he watched, looking almost as sickly as Snape.

It suddenly clicked—this wasn't just any ordinary cat.

McGonagall was a registered Animagus. How could she, the Transfiguration professor, not be one?

This was no ordinary cat—this was Professor McGonagall!

William finally understood why Cedric had been so vague when discussing registered Animagi. 

It was also clear now why Cedric had insisted that William bring Boba Tea to class, claiming McGonagall liked cats and might award Ravenclaw some points.

That sneaky Cedric, with his thick eyebrows and seemingly honest face—how devious!

As a result of William's strict feeding regime, Boba tea had yet to grow fat. The cat remained nimble and graceful, knocking over three ink bottles, snapping two quills, and finally using Cormac McLaggen's head as a springboard before landing squarely on the podium.

It was all done in one smooth motion, and Boba tea still held the fish treat in its mouth.

The tabby cat, Professor McGonagall, blinked in confusion. One moment, she had been trying to telepathically warn William to control his cat, and the next thing she knew, this little orange ball of fur was rushing toward her.

Boba tea, ever the opportunist, placed the fish treat on the podium and gently pushed it toward the tabby cat, a clear offering.

William's face turned even paler as a terrible thought crossed his mind—cats had a strange habit of sniffing each other's behinds when they met. 

It was their way of saying "hello."

Quick!

William had to do something to stop Boba tea from doing something truly suicidal. He had no desire to end up in the hospital wing because of his cat's manners!

Fortunately, Boba tea seemed content with circling the tabby once, unsure of what to do under the tabby's icy gaze. 

It hesitated, then flopped down, meowing softly, as if inviting the tabby cat to groom it.

William's heart skipped a beat.

Aaaaaahhhhh!

Boba tea had just invited Professor McGonagall to groom it!

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