"Read less, sleep more."
Cohen took one look at the dark circles under Hermione's eyes and knew instantly that the girl had burned the midnight oil to prep for their first class.
"It's called magic for a reason. You don't have to take it *that* seriously…"
Cohen was being honest. He hadn't bothered diving into those theoretical models himself either. The world had two indescribable things that drove people deeper into madness the more they studied them: Cthulhu and math.
"But Transfiguration has very standardized formulas and theories—" Hermione stubbornly stuck to her guns.
"Miss Granger, we're learning *magic*," Cohen said.
He still wanted to ask Professor McGonagall about sothing regarding "living" transfigurations. Besides, he didn't really have any handy tips for Hermione—magic was mostly a matter of willpower. The key to casting a spell successfully was believing it would work.
As for the complicated theoretical stuff? Most witches and wizards probably wouldn't bother with it even after graduating. Only those looking to create or refine spells would dig into the principles of magic.
That's why, co exam week, Hogwarts was always overrun with little witches and wizards cramming in every corner of the castle.
"To cast a spell successfully, you first have to believe it'll work," Cohen explained.
"But if you've never managed to cast it before, how can you believe it'll work?" Hermione countered, still convinced Cohen was just brushing her off.
"Cohen, class is over. Let's head back to the common room—I brought my wizard chess set. The three of us can take turns playing," Ron said, nudging Cohen, who hadn't packed up his books yet. "You've explained enough already—"
Ron's comnt was clearly aid at Hermione. The mont he said it, her cheeks flushed red like a pair of apples.
"You guys go ahead. I've got a question for Professor McGonagall," Cohen told Harry and Ron truthfully.
Seeing that Cohen had business to attend to, the two headed back to the dorm together.
First-year schedules weren't packed. After this morning's Transfiguration class, they only had one Herbology lesson left before dinner.
Edward was right—Hogwarts was practically learning through playti, especially since magic didn't demand much effort if a young witch or wizard's goal was just to pass their end-of-term exams.
"You really have a question for Professor McGonagall?" Hermione asked suspiciously. "Or…"
Her cheeks grew even redder.
"Are you planning to go laugh at with your friends—"
"Why would I laugh at you?" Cohen raised an eyebrow. "Laugh at you for being ahead of 99% of the class in Transfiguration? Trolls must be the proudest creatures alive, then, since they're total flops when it cos to brains."
"Pfft—"
Hermione couldn't help but giggle at Cohen's quip, though she quickly composed herself.
"So what question are you asking Professor McGonagall?"
"It's about whether sothing dead turned into sothing alive counts as dead or alive after the transformation," Cohen said, stuffing his textbook into his bag and standing up from his chair. "Aren't you curious?"
"I am. I'm coming too," Hermione declared, unwilling to be left behind.
Based on Cohen's current observations and predictions, this was usually the part where he and Hermione would kick off a rivals-turned-lovers arc—starting in first year with playful competition, bickering, and a long, winding road of romantic tension.
Too bad he was an emotionless, kindness-only, low-key-developing Dentor with zero interest in humans or little girls.
Plus, Cohen was certain that once his identity was revealed to Hermione, she'd steer clear of him—just like she did when she first found out Lupin was a werewolf.
Truth be told, Dentors were even less welco than werewolves. Werewolves only transford one night a month, while Dentors only turned human in fairy tales—if such fairy tales even existed.
*Knock knock knock—*
Professor McGonagall's office was a small study off the second-floor corridor. Cohen and Hermione tapped on the wooden door.
"Co in."
McGonagall's voice was much softer than it had been in class, though it still carried an official air.
Inside, a roaring fire crackled in the hearth, sparks dancing on the logs.
Through the window on the far side, you could see the Quidditch pitch—McGonagall had always been a fan of the sport.
"Mr. Norton, Miss Granger."
Professor McGonagall was preparing lesson plans for her next class. She looked up and saw two of her top perforrs from the morning's lesson, assuming they'd run into so academic snag. Her usually tight-lipped mouth curved into a smile.
"Are you having trouble with your studies? I'd be happy to help eager young witches and wizards with their questions."
"Professor, in class just now, I saw you turn a desk into a living thing," Cohen said, tweaking his question slightly to avoid ntioning "souls." After all, McGonagall and Dumbledore had discussed his origins, so it was best not to show too much interest in or desire for souls this early.
"Turning inanimate objects into living ones is sothing you'll learn in your third year, and even then, it's limited to small-scale biological transfigurations. Transfiguration is dangerous and complex—I don't want you trying these things too soon. It's risky," McGonagall said sternly, assuming Cohen wanted to learn how to turn a lectern into a pig. "Even if you succeed in your first practical attempt, don't get ahead of yourself, Mr. Norton."
"That's not my question, Professor," Cohen clarified. "I'm not that eager to try advanced spells. It's just that when I saw that lectern turn into a pig, it got thinking: Can transfiguration grant life? Or, during the transformation, is the target actually 'alive'?"
Hermione, standing nearby, listened intently to the exchange, already pulling out parchnt and a quill to jot down the question and answer as she leaned over the desk.
"It's good to think things through without rushing into reckless experints," McGonagall said, approving of Cohen's proper curiosity. "Actually, there's a very standard answer to this, though it's not in your *Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration*."
"Transfiguration can perform all sorts of magical conversions between materials, but it follows a set of basic rules—*Gamp's Law of Elental Transfiguration*. Your question, Mr. Norton, happens to tie into one of the five exceptions to Gamp's Law."
"Living things and inanimate objects can't be permanently transford into each other."
Seeing how attentively the two students were listening, McGonagall continued with a touch of satisfaction.
"For example, we can turn a button into a beetle or a lectern into a pig, but they won't stay animated forever. Once the magic sustaining them wears off, they revert to their original form."
"Even if those transford 'creatures' seem to have the breath of life, their essence remains inanimate. It's the wizard's magic that constructs their 'life.'"
So… the [**Soul Strength**] Cohen saw in that lectern-turned-pig… was actually McGonagall's magic?
If he absorbed a "soul" made of magic…
Would it still boost his soul integrity?
(*End of Chapter*)
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