By the time he reached the Great Hall, dinner was in full swing. The enchanted ceiling showed the evening sky, stars beginning to appear as dusk settled over the grounds. The four house tables were packed with students, the noise level considerable as everyone discussed their first day of classes excitedly.
James found a seat at the Ravenclaw table, squeezing in between a group of third years who were arguing about the finer points of a Charms assignment and a pair of fifth years who were studying while they ate.
He filled his plate with roasted chicken, potatoes, and vegetables, eating quickly and efficiently.
The food was still bland by his standards, underseasoned and lacking the spices his palate had grown accustomed to over eleven years of his mother's cooking, but he was hungry enough not to care. Food was fuel, and he needed energy for the work ahead.
He declined the pumpkin juice, opting instead for water from a bronze pitcher. Several other Muggleborn students were doing the same, he noticed. The peculiar sweetness of pumpkin juice was apparently an acquired taste that not everyone was willing to acquire.
After dinner, James returned to Ravenclaw Tower, navigating the route he had already memorized.
The eagle knocker asked him: "What has roots that nobody sees, is taller than trees, up, up it goes, and yet never grows?"
"A mountain," James answered without hesitation.
The door swung open, and he entered the common room.
It was sparsely populated now, with students scattered throughout the circular space. Some occupied the comfortable chairs near the fireplace, reading or chatting quietly. Others had claimed study tables, their textbooks and parchments spread out before them.
A group of older students was examining what looked like a complicated mechanical device near one of the windows, discussing its function in hushed, excited tones.
The atmosphere was peaceful.
James made his way to his room, the space still looking sparse and unwelcoming with its minimal furnishings. But that could be fixed.
That was the beauty of Ravenclaw's approach to student accommodations. They gave you the bare minimum and expected you to improve your situation through applied magic.
It was a practical lesson in transfiguration and a motivation to learn, and a way to ensure every student's living space reflected their growing skill.
First, though, he needed to clean up. The day had been long, and he could feel the grime of the day's exertion on his skin. James grabbed his toiletries bag from where it sat on the plain desk and headed to the bathroom.
The corridor was quiet; most students were still downstairs in the common room or at dinner. The bathroom was empty when he entered, which suited him perfectly. He preferred solitude for his evening routine, time to think and process the day's events without the distraction of conversation.
James took a long, hot shower, standing under the spray and letting it wash away not just physical dirt but mental tension as well. The water pressure was excellent, and the temperature stayed perfectly consistent. Magic, he assumed, regulated both. He scrubbed his hair, washed thoroughly, and simply stood for a few extra minutes, enjoying the sensation of hot water on tired muscles.
After drying off, he brushed his teeth at one of the sinks, washed his face with cold water that shocked him fully awake again, and examined his reflection in the mirror.
The mirror, rather than offering compliments as it had that morning, seemed to sense his mood and remained silent.
James returned to his room feeling refreshed and ready to tackle the next task: making this space livable.
Now for the furniture.
James remembered seeing a storage room off the common room earlier. Xavier had mentioned it in passing during the tour, explaining that Ravenclaw encouraged its students to improve their living spaces as they learned new skills. The house provided raw materials for transfiguration practice, understanding that necessity was an excellent motivator for learning.
He made his way back downstairs, moving quietly through the common room. Most students were too absorbed in their own activities to pay much attention to a first-year crossing the space. James located the storage room easily, a door tucked into an alcove near the entrance to the girls' dormitories, marked with a small bronze plaque reading: "Storage."
The door was unlocked. James pushed it open and found himself in a space that was larger than it appeared from the outside. Extension charms, obviously. The room was organized with impressive efficiency. Along one wall stood blocks of wood in various sizes, some rough-cut, others already shaped into basic furniture components. Metal fixtures occupied another section: hinges, handles, brackets, and rails. Fabric samples hung from racks, ranging from plain cotton to rich velvet. Cushions of different sizes were stacked in one corner. Glass panes leaned against the far wall. Even leather hides were available, carefully preserved and waiting to be transformed.
Everything a student might need to practice transfiguration on a practical level, all neatly organized and clearly labeled.
James selected his materials carefully. A large wooden board that could become a wardrobe, dimensions roughly correct for the space he had available. Large wooden blocks for a set of drawers, already shaped into rectangular forms that would make the transfiguration easier. He decided to forgo soft materials for a chair, like cushioning and fabric, as he was advanced enough in his transfiguration that he only needed one base material, and he could transform it into anything. He also took a few extra pieces that might become a side table or additional storage.
It was easier to transfigure similar material into the intended target rather than using something completely different. It's a pity he has yet to master conjuration, or he could have conjured his own furniture.
He pulled out his wand and began casting Shrinking Charms. "Reducio."
Each piece shrank to pocket-size, small enough to carry easily. James gathered the miniaturized items, checking to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything, then pocketed them all and returned to his room.
Once the door was closed and locked with a quiet "Colloportus," James began his work in earnest.
He restored the first piece to full size with a tap of his wand. "Engorgio." The wooden frame expanded rapidly, settling onto the floor with a solid thump. James examined it critically, then raised his wand and began the transformation.