Chapter 135: Expert-Level Transfiguration

In the afternoon, Wizard Sean would practice Transfiguration.

The office with its fierce fireplace was unlike any other place; the professor always casually asked many questions.

“Mr. Green.”

Her voice was as precise as ever, yet much softer than in class,

“I think the chill of Hogsmeade in November can be unbearably biting.”

Wizard Sean turned his head to look at the professor.

Her gaze, through the square lenses of her glasses, landed sharply on his untidy tie and the thin robe he had just changed into in the greenhouse alcove—the greenhouse had been too hot, and he’d forgotten to add a sweater upon returning to the castle.

“Hogwarts,”

she said slowly, each word carrying weight,

“is more than just a school to many students who come here. I believe you understand this.”

Wizard Sean nodded silently.

For two months, sometimes he had looked up at the night sky,

the magical stars always bright, and Wizard Sean felt they hadn’t changed much since six months ago,

only now there was a little more hope.

“You no longer have to face the first snowstorm of the Scottish highlands alone…”

Professor McGonagall’s eyes softened, but then she added,

“At Hogwarts, that is not permitted. Now—”

her voice returned to its usual sharpness; with a light tap of her wand, Wizard Sean’s tie automatically straightened itself,

“twenty minutes remain until dinner—plenty of time to go back and put on a thick sweater. I expect to see you in the Great Hall, punctual and with a good appetite.”

As Wizard Sean left the classroom, she lowered her head slightly, her robe swirling as she turned away. Footsteps echoed through the stone corridor, leaving behind a tall, upright silhouette.

…

As the snow grew heavier, Wizard Sean’s understanding of the Fusion Enlightenment Method deepened; on an evening when a window rattled loudly, he brewed a [Beginner]-level Draught of Joy.

Professor Snape’s expression shifted repeatedly, yet he concealed it perfectly from Wizard Sean.

Having succeeded in practice, Wizard Sean refined the Fusion Enlightenment Method further; in a few more days, he would form a complete system.

But today he was still driven out of the dungeons by Professor Snape—

“Clumsy technique! Quality boosted by your idiotic method—Wizard Sean Green, if you’re not blind, you’d know the abysmal ingredient ratio you’ve shown—idiot!”

Though Wizard Sean always corrected his mistakes and improved continuously, in Professor Snape’s eyes he was still little better than a troll.

Occasionally, those deep black eyes revealed something complex—

in certain aspects, even noteworthy ones, he displayed the talent of a top Potions Master;

And in some completely insignificant matters, he's just an idiot.

This strange contrast enraged Snape immensely, sometimes even making him grit his teeth—

“Fool! Foolish heat control! Foolish timing! Foolish stirring technique! Get out—”

Wizard Sean rarely heard anything kind before leaving, but he automatically ignored the mockery, so each time he emerged from the dungeons, he left with full hands.

Under Professor Snape’s intense “guidance,” Wizard Sean achieved [Skilled] level in all three basic Potions; three times a week, he received over ten Jin Jin Jialong from the professor.

Combined with the popularity of his notes, his purse grew heavier by the day.

If he could find the twins, his progress would accelerate even further.

Unlike Wizard Sean’s calm and profound joy,

Harry had been suffering lately.

Captain Wood learned that Ravenclaw’s Quidditch team had invited Green, and lately he had trained like a man possessed.

But the Green Collection hadn’t been updated yet, so Harry had fallen far behind in his studies.

Since Harry lost *The Quidditch Through the Ages* and caused Wizard Sean to visit the “dangerous” caretaker’s office, Hermione hadn’t spoken to him for nearly three days.

Though she later agreed to help them, she refused outright to let them copy her homework.

“What would you learn from that?”

She always said this.

Yet after having her check their work, he and Ron always got the correct answers.

But terrifyingly, he was running out of even this time.

The thought that Wizard Sean disliked Quidditch made Harry feel like a baboon holding a wand in Wizard Sean’s eyes.

What was the difference between them?

They were both knocked down by one of Wizard Sean’s spells.

They wanted to wait for Wizard Sean in the corridors as before, but Wizard Sean had changed his routine; they tried to find Jia Jia Siting, but Gryffindor had just finished playing Hufflepuff—and won—so Harry dared not go.

Even Jia Jia Siting’s expression had turned strange.

The two of them—couldn’t they see how awkward this was?

Today was another clear Sunday.

In the courtyard, a salamander scurried wildly; just as it was about to reach Hermione’s shoes, it suddenly stopped.

Wizard Sean waved his wand, and the creature swelled more than threefold, growing as large as a Quaffle, then slowly retreated, leaving a scorched path across the thin layer of snow.

【You practiced Advanced Transfiguration to an expert standard. Proficiency +1000】

How much is this…?

Wizard Sean had never seen so much proficiency before; he soon understood why.

“Wizard Sean!”

Jia Jia Siting swiftly caught the young wizard; after a moment of weakness, Wizard Sean slowly caught his breath again.

His energy had been drained instantly.

“Wizard Sean—!”

Hermione’s concern always hid behind a scowling face,

“I warned you—Advanced Transfiguration in the arcane realm easily causes energy depletion!”

After sipping some steaming honey tea, Wizard Sean calmed down considerably.

Just now, he had solved a problem that had plagued him for a long time.

That was: when casting Advanced Transfiguration, he had focused too much on mimicking the magical creature itself, forgetting that Transfiguration is governed by the wizard’s will.

Thus, when he pushed for greater power, the salamander gradually slipped from his control.

But when he truly imposed his will fully upon the salamander, the energy cost skyrocketed.

With his first-year magic reserves, he easily depleted himself.

Meanwhile, at the other end of the courtyard, a fierce conflict was erupting.

Harry and Ron, already in bad moods, were talking.

“It’s the weekend, Harry. How’s your homework coming?”

Ron’s face was gloomy.

“Not a word written.”

Harry had done a bit better, but not by much.

“The Green Collection is supposed to update in another week, but I’m doomed this week!”

A week’s worth of accumulated homework was no small amount.

“Ha—two Gryffindor fools—think you can really—”

Malfoy passed by here and glanced around.

The swirling snow obscured his vision; he saw nothing but Harry in a foul mood.

So he loudly mocked, in good spirits.