The leather cover of the Primary Magic Book felt cool and rough, like aged animal skin, under Hermione's fingertips. She closed it with a soft thud, the sound swallowed by the heavy velvet curtains of her four-poster bed. With a thought, she flicked her wrist, and the book vanished into the void of her Space Ring.
She rubbed her eyes, feeling the grit of exhaustion. She was wearing snow-white silk pajamas, and as she sat up, the moonlight streaming through the narrow tower window bathed her delicate figure in a silver halo, making her look like a character from a beautiful, silent picture scroll.
Over in the boys' dormitory, the atmosphere was different.
Harry Potter sat by the window, his eyes wide and unblinking behind his glasses. He looked excitedly at the dark, sprawling grounds of Hogwarts, the moonlight reflecting off the Black Lake. Beside him, in a brass cage, the snowy owl Mr. Hagrid had given him—Hedwig—hooted softly, ruffling her feathers.
As the first night at Hogwarts settled in, Harry couldn't help but think back to his experience at the home of his mean aunt and uncle. The cupboard under the stairs, the shouting, the hunger.
Everything now felt like a new life. A real life.
"Harry, don't read anymore, or you'll be late for class tomorrow."
Ron Weasley was already buried under his blankets. He peeked out, looking sleepily at Harry's silhouette against the window, his voice thick with drowsiness.
"Mmm," Harry hummed, not turning away from the view. "We won't be late tomorrow."
He said it firmly, full of the optimism of the first day.
The Next Morning.
The weather above Hogwarts was crisp and clear, the sky a piercing, cornflower blue.
Inside the Great Hall, the smell of frying bacon, toasted bread, and pumpkin juice filled the air. Magic students chattered over breakfast, the clinking of cutlery echoing against the stone walls.
At nine o'clock, classes were scheduled to start. Generally, there were two classes in the morning and two in the afternoon. First-year freshmen had a heavy load, needing to learn a variety of foundational courses: Astronomy, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, History of Magic, Potions, and Transfiguration.
The first class on the very first day was Transfiguration.
The classroom was high-ceilinged and smelled faintly of chalk dust and old wood. Professor McGonagall was not at the podium. Instead, a stiff, severe-looking tabby cat with markings around its eyes like square spectacles sat perfectly still on the teacher's desk.
The students filed in, intimidated by the atmosphere.
Hermione sat in the front row, her quill arranged perfectly parallel to her parchment. She checked her watch.
When the names of Harry Potter and Ron Weasley should have been called, there was silence. It was obvious: they were late.
Hermione didn't know whether to laugh or cry. This was an inescapable repeat of history, playing out exactly like the movie.
Across the aisle, Draco Malfoy leaned back in his chair, a smirk twisting his pale features. He laughed bluntly, whispering to Crabbe, "In a moment, those two idiots are finished!"
The tabby cat on the desk flicked its tail, its eyes narrowing. Professor McGonagall was very angry. In her opinion, for freshmen to be late for the first class of the year was inexcusable. It was obvious that Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were two thorns that needed to be trimmed immediately.
While waiting, Hermione opened her Transfiguration textbook.
Transfiguration was undoubtedly an advanced course. It was precise, scientific, and dangerous. There were very few magic students who could learn this course well and change shape at will.
Hermione was very interested.
She watched the cat on the desk. To be able to transform one's entire biological structure into another species... it reminded her of the great shapeshifters of mythology, like Proteus or Merlin.
In this magical world, there were only a handful of people who were Animagi like Professor McGonagall. In the original stories, only Headmaster Dumbledore (in theory), Professor McGonagall, and a few others could do it. The transfiguration of ordinary magicians was usually limited to changing one object into another.
For example: turning matches into needles, tables into stools, mice into snuffboxes, or ferrets into flamingos.
Hermione remembered how Hagrid, upon meeting Harry, had conjured a pig's tail onto Dudley Dursley's bottom out of thin air. It was very interesting, chaotic magic.
Hermione began to study the text hard. If possible, she wanted to learn enough to turn Malfoy's nose into a pig snout.
This Malfoy is so annoying, she thought, glancing at his smug profile.
As for the others... Ron was decent. Hermione could see that Ron was also interested in her, constantly stealing glances, but his behavior was remarkable and polite, so she would take her time. At least he didn't disgust her.
Harry was straight-laced and focused; he hasn't shown anything special to Hermione yet other than friendship.
But Malfoy was too aggressive. His philosophy was clear: what he fancied was his, and if he couldn't get it, he would destroy it. Hermione had the worst impression of him.
Although, she had to admit, as a time traveler with an objective eye, Malfoy was undoubtedly the most handsome boy in the room. But he was also the worst of their generation in terms of personality.
Professor McGonagall, currently in the form of a tabby cat, was seething. She was the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, the strictest professor in the school, and she didn't want two thorns disrupting her class.
However, while waiting and fuming, the cat's sharp eyes accidentally discovered a treasure of a student.
Sitting in the front, clearly debuting in the center position (C-position) of academic excellence, was Miss Hermione Granger. While the other first-years were looking around, scratching their ears, whispering, and making all kinds of careless little moves, Miss Hermione had begun to study seriously.
As a teacher and professor, McGonagall naturally liked this kind of student the most. Beautiful, smart, and studious.
Miss Hermione's future achievements may not be below Harry Potter's, McGonagall thought.
Harry Potter was famous, yes. The mighty Voldemort was seriously injured because of him. But fame was not talent.
Hermione, meanwhile, was fascinated. She fantasized that she could become the most outstanding Transfiguration wizard in the magical world. To change forms at will—to become a bird soaring in the sky one moment, a fish swimming in the sea the next, and then a galloping horse on the vast grassland...
How wanton and free!
Of course, Miss Hermione did not envy the fate of werewolves like Remus Lupin or rats like Peter Pettigrew. She loved the elegant, timeless, and controlled art of Transfiguration.
Finally, proving that Harry's promise last night was empty words, the classroom door banged open.
Two latecomers, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, stumbled in. Both of them were out of breath, their robes hastily thrown on and slightly askew.
The classroom fell silent.
Ron, who was often in charge of comic relief, scanned the room. Seeing that the teacher's desk was empty save for a cat, he let out a huge sigh of relief.
"Whew," Ron panted, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Harry, we are very lucky. This is Professor McGonagall's class. She is notoriously strict. Can you imagine? If we entered the classroom after she arrived, she'd kill us..."
Harry was about to agree, but then he noticed something was wrong. The eyes of the students around him were so full of meaning. Specifically, Malfoy's eyes were filled with playful malice, and the little beauty Hermione was looking at them with an expression of deep sympathy.
"Ron..." Harry started.
But before Ron could sit down, the tabby cat on the desk leaped into the air.
In mid-flight, the cat's form blurred and twisted. By the time her feet hit the floor, she had transformed into the tall, imposing figure of Professor McGonagall. She walked towards Ron, her robes billowing, radiating an oppressive aura of authority.
It was fluid, seamless magic. The more Hermione watched it, the more she wanted to learn it.
"..."
Ron was frightened stupid on the spot. He looked up at Professor McGonagall, who towered over him. He was so terrified he didn't dare to breathe. His little heart was beating cautiously in his chest like a trapped bird.
"Mr. Weasley!" McGonagall barked.
"Mr. Potter!"
She looked down her nose at them through her square spectacles. "You should really study Transfiguration. Perhaps I should transfigure one of you into a pocket watch? That way, one of you might be on time."
"We got lost," Harry mumbled, trying to be brave.
"Then perhaps a map?" McGonagall countered sharply. "I trust you don't need one to find your seats."
Professor McGonagall's aura had already scared Harry and Ron into submission.
"Sorry, Professor McGonagall, we won't do it next time," Harry said, finding his voice.
"Next time, I won't be so good at talking," Professor McGonagall clipped. She turned around, marched back to the podium, and tapped the chalkboard with her wand. "Take your seats."
Puff!
Malfoy took the lead in sneering, covering a laugh with his hand.
The reason why Malfoy was targeting Harry Potter was simple: Harry, the protagonist, was not afraid of power and had contradicted Malfoy on the train.
Although Hermione did not agree to join Malfoy's camp last night, Miss Hermione was a little beauty after all, and she had promised to give him a "green hat," which Malfoy considered a small bribe or token of affection. So, for now, Malfoy didn't take the lead against Hermione Granger.
Of course, Hermione would not laugh at the boys. Only Harry Potter and Ron were late in the class, which just showed that they were the protagonists and behaved uniquely. If they were mediocre and punctual, they wouldn't be worthy of being the leads.
She turned her attention back to the lesson. She was studying seriously, her admiration for the magic driving her focus.
Finally, the bell rang, signaling the end of the class.
It had been an intense session. Miss Hermione had learned a lot, and she had memorized all her notes perfectly. She planned to review and digest the information by herself later.
She began packing her quill and parchment into her bag. But, as expected, the System wasn't going to let Hermione go without a choice.
The blue light curtain shimmered into existence in front of her face, blocking her view of the exiting students.
[Option 1: Go and joke about Ron and Harry being late for the first class. Complete the task to reward: Basic Attributes +1]
[Option 2: Take the initiative to chat with Malfoy, talk about life and ideals. Reward: 1 Toilet Brush.]
[Option 3: As a good student, don't miss the opportunity to study between classes. Go to Professor McGonagall to review today's topic. Complete the task to reward: 1 Notebook.]
PLS SUPPORT ME AND THROW POWERSTONES .