James woke at five again, the alarm was unnecessary as apparently his internal clock had already adjusted to the routine, even though it hadn't even been a week yet.
The castle was still silent, wrapped in the predawn darkness that made it feel as if it were still late at night instead of the early morning.
He went through his morning ritual: bathroom, shower, and brushing his teeth. He dried his hair and put on his uniform using wandless spell from the household book charm. It was an immense help in keeping his wandless magic skills sharp.
Most of the spells he had to actively take time out to practice, while the Household spell book was the most useful book of all. He has used it the most so far.
He especially woke up early to practice spells so
Today, he worked on the Severing Charm, Diffindo, without his wand. It was delicate work, requiring precise control to cut parchment and papers cleanly without obliterating them entirely. He practiced on scraps, making progressively finer cuts until he could slice a sheet into perfect strips with just a gesture. He plans on working on it wandlessly until he could make jianzhi from China/ kirigami from Japan (The paper cutting art).
On the other hand, he also wants to make his diffindo strong enough that he'd be able to cut people in half. He intends to overpower the spell and practice on tree trunks until he could get a thick trunk in one slice.
It is one of the simplest and lethal spells he has found that isn't considered dark. If he could manage to get it strong enough, it would be a great defensive spell. He just needs to keep putting power into it.
By seven-thirty, he was downstairs having breakfast. The Great Hall was filling with students, the morning chatter building as people woke up properly. James ate eggs and toast, drank water, and reviewed his schedule. Transfiguration first, then a free period, then Herbology with the Slytherins.
At eight-twenty, he made his way to the Transfiguration classroom. The other first-year Ravenclaws and Gryffindors were already gathering outside, talking quietly about their homework essays.
"I wrote twelve inches," Mandy Brocklehurst was saying. "Professor McGonagall said ten, but I had so much to say about the topic that I couldn't resist."
"I barely made ten," Terry Boot admitted. "I kept running out of things to write about."
"You should have included examples," Anthony Goldstein suggested. "I wrote about different types of material transformation and gave specific examples of each."
James listened with half an ear. His own essay had been exactly ten inches, concise and comprehensive, covering all the key theoretical principles without unnecessary elaboration. McGonagall had asked for ten inches, so he'd provided exactly that. He had better things to do than filling in parchment.
At eight-thirty precisely, the classroom door opened, and Professor McGonagall stood there, stern and imposing in her emerald robes.
"Enter," she said, and they filed in quickly.
Once everyone was seated, McGonagall collected the homework essays with a wave of her wand. The parchments flew from students' hands and stacked themselves neatly on her desk. She would grade them later.
"Today," McGonagall announced, "we will advance from simple object transformation to something requiring more precision. You will transform a feather into a working quill."
She conjured a white feather for each student with a casual flick of her wand, the feathers settling gently on every desk.
"This builds on last week's lesson, where you transformed matches into needles. However, this transformation requires more precise visualization. A quill is not merely a pointed object. It must have the correct nib structure, the proper cut and point, and the right flexibility to write smoothly. You must understand how a quill works to transform a feather into one successfully."
McGonagall pulled out one of her own quills and held it up. "Examine this carefully. Notice the trimmed shaft, the carefully shaped nib, the precise angle of the cut. These details matter. A poorly transformed quill will not write properly, or worse, will leak ink everywhere."
She demonstrated with her own feather, her wand moving in a smooth, controlled arc. The white feather shimmered and transformed into an elegant black quill with a perfectly shaped nib.
"The incantation is Pluma Scriptoria. The wand movement is a gentle curve, like drawing the quill across parchment. You must visualize not just the appearance, but the function. Begin."
Students pulled out their own quills to examine them, studying the structure with new attention. James already knew exactly how a quill was constructed. His eidetic memory provided perfect recall of every detail.
James knew that instead of relying on specialized spells he wanted to improve himself on the more general transfiguration spell.
Usually, it was considered impressive if even N.E.W.T. students managed to use it fluidly to perform multiple transfigurations, let alone a student in his first year, but he intends to use this base spell as he believes he has the talent and drive to succeed in using it in any transfiguration.
He raised his wand, visualized precisely what he wanted, and spoke clearly. "Vera Verto."
The white feather shimmered and transformed. Not into a plain quill, but into something spectacular: a peacock feather, iridescent blues and greens shimmering in the torch lights, with a perfectly shaped nib of gleaming gold-toned material. It was beautiful and functional, art and utility both combined.
"Mr. Acton," McGonagall's voice was right beside him, and James looked up to find she'd been keeping an eye on him after his performance in the last class.
She picked up the quill, examining it with critical eyes. Then she held it up for the entire class to see.
"Class, your attention please. This is an excellent example of what you can achieve if you work hard. Mr. Acton has not only achieved a perfect functional transformation, but he's also demonstrated strong visualization skills by creating a peacock feather rather than a plain one. The coloring and pattern show excellent control. Five points to Ravenclaw."
James heard Hermione Granger make a small sound of frustration from the front row. Other students murmured, impressed or envious.
McGonagall conjured an inkwell and a piece of parchment. "Let's test it, shall we?"
She dipped the peacock quill into the ink and wrote several sentences on the parchment. The quill moved smoothly, with the ink flowing on the parchment consistently without making any mess.
"Perfect," McGonagall pronounced. "Not only is it beautiful to look at, but it functions flawlessly. Well done, Mr. Acton."
She vanished the inkwell and parchment, then summoned a small wooden box from her desk. Inside were a dozens of plain white feathers.
"Since you've clearly more than mastered the basic transformation, Mr. Acton, I'd like you to practice variations. Transform each of these feathers into a different style of quill. Experiment with designs, colors, materials. Show me the breadth of your visualization capabilities."
"Yes, Professor. Thank you," James said, accepting the box.
McGonagall moved away to help the other students, and James could feel eyes on him. Hermione looked particularly annoyed, her own feather still stubbornly white despite her intense concentration. The other students were murmuring, some admiring, some resentful of how easily he made it look.