As a result, aside from Chu Yang, only a handful of Slytherin girls were sitting properly in the classroom.
They waited for quite some time, yet not a single additional Slytherin first-year arrived.
Professor Minerva McGonagall's expression visibly darkened.
As the school's Deputy Headmistress and a long-time professor at Hogwarts, this was the first time she had ever encountered something like this.
"Does anyone know what's going on with Slytherin? Where have all those boys gone?" McGonagall's icy gaze swept across the classroom. Instantly, everyone fell silent, heads bowing in unison.
"Professor McGonagall," a short-haired girl stood up. "Those boys seemed to have spent the whole night playing in the common room. This morning they all caught colds and were sent to the hospital wing by the upper-years."
The girl was Pansy Parkinson. A trace of schadenfreude curled at the corner of her mouth—she was more than happy to see those arrogant boys embarrass themselves. Besides, the one she liked, Malfoy, wasn't among them.
"Thank you for answering my question, Miss Parkinson. However, Slytherin will still lose five points," McGonagall said displeased, gesturing for Pansy to sit down.
Snickers and amused laughter rose from all directions, leaving Pansy flushed red with frustration at her unintended outcome.
"Silence!" McGonagall paced the classroom, her tone stern. "Now, open your books to the first page, the first section…"
She began explaining the fundamentals of Transfiguration—mostly introductory material designed to help students understand what Transfiguration was, as well as the risks involved.
She also described certain unique sensations. For example, when a person transforms into an animal, what does it feel like for clothing, glasses, and other accessories to become part of the animal's skin?
Such experiences were exclusive to Animagi; for ordinary witches and wizards, they were invaluable secondhand insights.
In addition, McGonagall briefly introduced the five principal exceptions of Gamp's Fundamental Laws of Transfiguration.
Chu Yang summarized them mentally:
First—nothing except food can be transfigured into food. However, one food may be transfigured into another, or a food's size may be increased.
Second—Transfiguration cannot turn the dead into the living, nor the living into the dead. It cannot alter a target's level or state of life.
Third—Transfiguration cannot be cast on magical objects. Conflicts arise due to differences in enchantments and sources of magic.
Similarly, special Transfiguration such as Animagus transformation carries restrictions as well—one cannot transform into a magical creature.
Chu Yang understood this as akin to inserting two unrelated—or even conflicting—lines of code into the same program, disrupting normal operation.
Fourth—quantity. Transfiguration cannot turn one object into many. Acts of duplication or creation parallel the second rule, entering realms beyond human capability.
Fifth—creation from nothing. One cannot use Transfiguration to conjure matter out of thin air, even if it is something deeply familiar.
All five cases were attempts to use magic to defy the laws of "reality."
Yet intriguingly, Chu Yang felt that none of these were truly impossible. They were more like shackles—break just one, and magic would enter an entirely new domain, undergoing a qualitative transformation.
Because most Slytherin first-years were absent, McGonagall kept the first lesson brief and did not teach any spells.
"Review what I've just covered," she said. Then, with a swift motion, she transformed back into a tabby cat and perched atop the desk, fatigue unmistakably human in her feline eyes.
After a brief silence, four figures burst into the classroom—it was the Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter, his friend Ron Weasley, and the visibly swollen-cheeked Goyle and Crabbe.
"Oh, thank Merlin Professor McGonagall isn't here, or we'd be doomed!" Ron complained as he dragged Harry toward their seats. "She looks so serious—when she doesn't talk, it's terrifying!"
He failed to notice that Harry's expression had already changed.
McGonagall transformed back into human form from the tabby cat—but she merely passed by the two of them. Her target was the late-arriving Goyle and Crabbe.
"I hear you had quite the enjoyable night, to the point where you couldn't even attend Transfiguration the next day," McGonagall said frostily. "Should I inform Headmaster Albus Dumbledore and suggest that Slytherin study Transfiguration on its own?"
Her voice wasn't loud, but every word stabbed straight into Goyle and Crabbe's hearts. At that moment, they regretted not sleeping on the floor the night before—at least then they could've gone to the hospital wing like the others.
"It's not like that, Professor McGonagall—please let me explain!" Goyle rushed to defend himself, then felt someone tug lightly at the hem of his robe.
He turned and saw Crabbe.
And Chu Yang's amused smile.
In an instant, Goyle's hair stood on end, as if electricity surged through his body. He vividly remembered how Chu Yang had single-handedly flattened the entire first-year boys' dormitory the night before.
How many punches could he take?
Not even one.
"We're very sorry, Professor McGonagall! We promise it won't happen again!" Goyle blurted out, immediately admitting fault and snapping his mouth shut.
McGonagall paused—she'd actually been waiting for an explanation…
"There will be no next time!" she snapped, eyes blazing. "Sit down!"
Goyle and Crabbe obeyed at once, but they couldn't focus at all, fidgeting as though nails were embedded in their seats.
The reason was simple—their seats were directly in front of Chu Yang.
Even without turning around, they could feel the tangible gaze sweeping over them from behind.
The Slytherin girls had planned to question them about what really happened, but the two boys sat stiff as statues, eyes forward, unmoving—until the end of class.
Potions was held in the dungeons, not far from the Slytherin common room. The corridor leading there was dark and damp, fear plain on the faces of most first-years.
The atmosphere was oppressively eerie—far too much for a group of eleven-year-olds to handle calmly.
Hermione, who had planned to ignore Chu Yang all day, unconsciously quickened her pace and moved closer to his side.
Clearing her throat, she said with a sharp edge, "Your housemates are really something—managing to make Professor McGonagall that angry on the very first day."
Chu Yang nodded noncommittally. "I agree. They're quite impressive."
(End of Chapter)