Dawn glanced over and recognized him as Crabbe, one of Malfoy’s lackeys. No wonder the young master had seemed oddly short of attendants earlier.

“Oh, Mr. Crabbe! Perhaps I should turn you into a map, so you would have an easier time finding your way,” McGonagall said icily. “For your behavior, Slytherin loses two points.”

Her expression stern, she glared at the pale-faced Crabbe.

“And why are you standing there? Have you forgotten where your seat is as well?”

“S-sorry,” Crabbe stammered and hurried clumsily to sit near Malfoy, earning a disgusted look from the young master.

There was no hint yet that this bumbling fool would one day summon a Fiendfyre curse and end up burning himself to death.

The lesson continued.

McGonagall first turned the podium into a roaring lion, then transformed the lion into an eagle that soared around the classroom, before finally letting the eagle land and revert back into a table.

The young wizards gasped in awe at the performance.

“Transfiguration is a deep and profound branch of magic,” McGonagall said, flipping open a textbook to the first chapter, her voice grave.

“You may need a lifetime to master it. But before you even try, you must understand the Five Principal Exceptions to Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration.”

She pointed firmly to the written list.

“I expect you to memorize them thoroughly. They may be the only thing standing between you and mortal danger!”

Dawn couldn’t help but think Professor McGonagall was channeling a bit of Snape with this speech. If she had replaced “ignorance” with “stupidity,” it would have been a perfect fit.

Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration outlined the core limits of Transfiguration:

1. Food cannot be created from nothing. Even if you transformed a table into a cake, eating it would provide no nutrition, because it would still be wood at its core.

2. Non-living things cannot be permanently turned into living things. Transfigurations require constant magical maintenance; once the magic fades, no matter how realistic the transformation, the object will revert.

3. Quantity cannot be altered. One matchstick could only be transfigured into one needle; you couldn’t multiply it through magic.

4. Something cannot be created from nothing. Transfiguration could only change one material into another—it could not summon materials out of thin air.

5. Magical objects cannot be created through Transfiguration. Items like self-writing quills, temperature-regulating cauldrons, or enchanted Galleons could not be conjured in this way.

……..

Listening to these explanations, Dawn suddenly felt a strange and inexplicable sense of displeasure.

He found the rules written in the book glaring, as if they were telling him: Look, even magic must follow certain laws; it is not truly omnipotent.

Dawn disliked this feeling.

In his mind, magic should be an all-powerful modifier, but Gamp’s Laws of Elemental Transfiguration slapped him in the face, telling him: Child, even modifiers have their limits.

His brows furrowed unconsciously, and a vague idea flashed across his heart, so fleeting that even he did not realize it.

‘Could the rules binding magic be completely removed? Could magic break free from all laws and become a true miracle of limitless power?’

……..

Transfiguration was a two-hour long class.

After the theoretical portion, the young wizards were required to perform a practical exercise.

“Pick up the matchstick on your desk. Any student who manages to transform it into a needle before the end of class will be exempt from today’s homework,” announced Professor McGonagall.

Her words excited many of the young wizards.

However, the Ravenclaws showed little reaction. Perhaps in their view, skipping homework would only allow others a chance to surpass them.

Dawn let out a meaningless smile and touched the matchstick with his wand.

In the next instant.

The matchstick’s rough wood rapidly hardened, sharpened, and then took on a metallic gleam. As it transformed into a needle, delicate patterns even emerged along the surface.

It was perfect.

But Dawn realized a problem.

Because the matchstick itself contained no magic, he had been unable to observe the change in its inherent trait patterns during the transformation.

By the time the magic had saturated it through the transfiguration spell, the patterns he could see were already those of the finished needle.

Dawn immediately realized—

His most urgent task was to find a way to attach magic to an object without casting a spell, purely through magical infusion.

“Very good!”

Professor McGonagall, who had been observing him, brightened instantly. She walked to the back of the classroom, held up his needle, and displayed it to the others.

“Five points to Ravenclaw!”

Draco, sitting in the front row, sneered. Across the classroom, envious and disdainful glances came from various corners.

In terms of class atmosphere alone, Hufflepuff far surpassed both Ravenclaw and Slytherin. The little badgers would sincerely applaud excellent performances, regardless of which House the student belonged to.

Aemon, sitting not far away, saw the scene unfold. He shoved his wand at his matchstick and muttered, “Verto!”

The matchstick remained motionless.

“Verto… Verto, Verto!”

Under Aemon’s stubborn chants, the ends of the matchstick finally sharpened a little—but that was all.

He glared at Dawn with resentment before lowering his head to continue struggling.

…….

“Well done, Mr. Richter,” said Professor McGonagall, offering more praise after the demonstration. She placed the silver needle back onto his desk.

“For the remaining time, you may attempt to change the needle’s material—perhaps into silver or copper.”

“Of course, you can also assist others with their transfiguration technique.”

She glanced around at the slower students, then added, “For example, Mr. Malfoy.”

As a Hogwarts professor, McGonagall still hoped the four Houses could cooperate. The school scheduling two Houses together for classes was meant to encourage this.

However, her goodwill only inflamed Malfoy’s pride. The young heir’s face flushed red as he shouted, “I don’t need… that guy’s help!”

Because McGonagall was present, Draco swallowed the harsher word he had intended to use.

From the obscure surname “Richter” alone, he could guess that Dawn likely came from the Muggle world. To be taught magic by a Mudblood? That was an insult to the Malfoy family!

Draco’s eyes burned with fury.

But afterward, something happened that made him even angrier.

Dawn ignored him completely. Instead, he called out to Professor McGonagall, who was about to leave:

“Professor, could you cast a Transfiguration spell on me?”

“Hmm?”

Professor McGonagall turned back, deep lines forming between her brows. “Cast a spell on you, Mr. Richter? What do you mean?”

“I’ve heard that masters of Transfiguration can transform people into animals or even wood. Could you let me experience it personally?” Dawn requested earnestly.

This had been his true purpose for approaching McGonagall—to observe the changes in his magical patterns by experiencing transfiguration firsthand.

He believed such a transformation would reveal alterations more directly than any spell.

Although seeing the tabby cat earlier had already confirmed his theory, Dawn felt that a personal experience would deepen his understanding.

“Why? Give me a reason, Mr. Richter.”

“I’m very curious about what it feels like to be transfigured, and I hope to experience it myself.”

“In that case, I must refuse.”

McGonagall replied firmly, in a tone that allowed no argument.

She looked at this bold student seriously, as if advising and warning him at once:

“The magical world is a dangerous place, Mr. Richter! Always remember to be cautious. Do not let your curiosity destroy you!”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep