"I need to remind you not to underestimate this class," Professor McGonagall said loudly. "This involves transforming a living thing into a non-living thing, which actually changes the essence of the object. Once the Transformation Spell turns a beetle into a button, it is no longer a beetle. If you attempt to feed this button to Neville's toad, it might die from indigestion."
She made a dry joke, and everyone laughed along, except Neville.
Neville seriously contemplated the dire outcome if Lafu consumed this button and felt a bit apprehensive for a moment.
Professor McGonagall reiterated the key points of the Transformation Spell several times—she does this in every class.
Although the content of each class is largely similar at its core, it needs to be continuously reinforced to subtly influence the minds of the young wizards.
Professor McGonagall walked to Harry's side and saw that he had transformed a beetle into a metal button with the Gryffindor lion pattern on it, which was quite exquisite.
"Very good, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall smiled and nodded approvingly at Harry. "Excellent Transformation Spell. Five points to Gryffindor."
"Professor, I have a question," Harry suddenly said.
Professor McGonagall's stern expression softened upon seeing Harry's green eyes, which always reminded her of the endearing Lily.
"Go ahead, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall nodded.
"Professor, as we saw in our first year, you are an Animagus," Harry carefully chose his words to avoid being offensive. "I know your Animagus form is a cat, so, do you have the urge to eat mice when you transform into a cat?"
Saying this, Harry reached out and grabbed Banban.
Banban struggled in Harry's hand, constantly squeaking, trying to escape Potter's clutches.
Professor McGonagall's face twitched awkwardly, and she looked at Harry, only to find that his green eyes were full of sincerity.
Hmm... it seems this kid really is like Lily and not like that troublemaker James.
"Why would you think that, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said, "Even if I transform into a cat through Animagus, I wouldn't eat mice because, essentially, I am still a human."
"I see," Harry nodded repeatedly. "So, other cat-related preferences don't apply either?"
"Correct," Professor McGonagall nodded seriously.
Harry suddenly felt a bit disheartened.
Pabi...
How did he not realize this issue? Even if he turned into a unicorn, Pabi wouldn't like eating grass...
Yes, Pabi is a human; how could he have unicorn preferences?
"I have a question too, Professor," Ron raised his hand to ask.
He saw that Harry always asked questions that got the professors thinking earnestly or feeling helpless, and he felt a bit envious.
Seeing that it was Ron who asked the question instead of Harry, Professor McGonagall breathed a slight sigh of relief.
Luckily, it's not Mr. Potter.
She was truly a bit worried that Harry would come up with something bizarre.
"Go ahead," she said.
"If a Dark Wizard transformed such a big desk into a chicken leg for me to swallow, and when the effect of the Transformation Spell ended, would the desk explode my stomach? Or can I maybe trick a Dark Wizard into eating such a chicken leg?" Ron patted the desk in front of him.
Professor McGonagall clutched her collar, taking deep breaths.
"Goodness, Mr. Weasley..." Professor McGonagall said shakily, "How could you, how could you come up with such an idea?"
Ron's heart skipped a beat, feeling like his question might have been inappropriate.
"I must remind you, Mr. Weasley," Professor McGonagall said sternly. "Do not let your twin brothers lead you astray! Also, one of Gamp's Transformation Law's five principal exceptions tells us that inedible objects cannot be transformed into food!"
"Okay, Professor," Ron hung his head, looking dejected.
The story of Ron's question in the Transformation Class spread, and by dinner, the Weasley twins had heard about it.
"Oh my, Little Ronnie," Fred was the first to praise him. "You truly are our good little brother, oh my, that's a truly ingenious and whimsical idea... It's the first time I feel like you're truly our brother, and not just a little ragamuffin picked up from some trash heap."
"You guys are the ones who were picked up," Ron rolled his eyes. At twelve years old, he wouldn't fall for such nonsense from his brothers.
Back when he was seven, he had actually believed them when they said so.
At that time, he tearfully went to his dad for help, and his dad, after glaring at his two brothers, immediately started scolding them.
But Ron cried even harder after hearing the scolding.
His dad's words were...
"Oh my! Fred! George! Why would you tell him the truth! Ron is still young! He's only seven! How could you do this to him!"
Ron doesn't remember how long he cried, but at that dinner, his dad, Fred, and George all sat with their heads hanging as they received a scolding from their mom.
"Shame, shame, shame, who was it that cried and went to dad?" Fred said, reaching out to pinch Ron's cheek. "But your idea is quite nice, though a bit... hmm, not quite strong enough. Let me think about how to integrate your prank idea into our tricks."