"My cousin went to Ilvermorny," said Jericho, speaking with enthusiasm. "The wizarding school is located on Mount Greylock, and like Hogwarts, students are sorted into four different houses.
The school's stance on Muggles is the complete opposite of Durmstrang's, which may have something to do with its founder being a No-Maj herself.
The interesting thing is that students choose their wands after arriving at school—or rather, the wand chooses the wizard, much like Ollivander's method, instead of simply purchasing one beforehand…"
Professor McGonagall's sharp eyes flicked toward Jericho, making him swallow his next words. He hastily opened A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration and pretended to read.
Ten minutes later, the Gryffindor students arrived in small groups. Even the usually boisterous lions knew better than to misbehave in Professor McGonagall's class and took their seats quietly.
However, two Gryffindors arrived late, stumbling into the classroom. Keith and a few other Slytherins smirked as they watched, but their amusement quickly faded when Professor McGonagall pursed her lips and deducted ten points from Gryffindor.
"Professor McGonagall is so strict," Jericho muttered, clearly surprised that the Head of Gryffindor would take points from her own house more often than she awarded them.
Surprisingly, the effect was immediate. The Slytherins, momentarily stunned, straightened up and sat attentively, determined not to invite the same punishment. The Gryffindors, meanwhile, looked suitably guilty. Percy Weasley leaned forward as if preparing to answer questions in an attempt to earn back house points.
Professor McGonagall strode to the center of the classroom, her expression stern as she surveyed the students. "Anyone who chooses to misbehave in my class will be asked to leave—and will not be allowed back in. Consider this your only warning."
The classroom fell silent. Only then did McGonagall continue. "Transfiguration is the most complex and dangerous branch of magic you will learn at Hogwarts. I also consider it one of the most fascinating fields of study. Observe."
With a simple flick of her wand, Professor McGonagall transformed a desk into a small tabby cat.
The kitten let out a soft meow, causing several students to instinctively reach out, eager to scoop it into their arms. A few of the Gryffindors, emboldened by the demonstration, gripped their wands, itching to try for themselves.
But when McGonagall announced that their first task would be turning a matchstick into a needle, the excitement in the room faded into apprehension.
Moriarty guessed that if the professor weren't present, there would have been groans of dismay.
"This is really difficult," Jericho muttered, pointing his cypress wand at a matchstick. He concentrated hard, but all that happened was the match growing slightly thinner.
After his first failed attempt, Jericho frowned. "Transfiguration doesn't have an incantation to recite—it's too abstract."
"Oh, Merlin's beard! Mr. Moriarty, how did you do that?" Jericho gasped, his eyes widening in astonishment.
A gleaming pin stood upright on Moriarty's desk. It spun once, morphing into a small silver needle. The needle then thickened before returning to its original form.
Professor McGonagall approached, her eyebrows raised. "In the past five years, you are the first student to complete this transformation correctly on your first attempt, Mr. Moriarty. That alone earns you five points."
She paused, eyeing the shifting forms of the needle. "Furthermore, the way you altered its shape between different needle types is an impressive example of controlled Transfiguration. Five more points to Slytherin."
The Slytherins murmured in amazement, while Moriarty shook his head. "Professor McGonagall, I realized something—what I did wasn't true Transfiguration. I merely poured an immense amount of magic into the match, forcing it to change its appearance. However, its essence remained unchanged."
He glanced around at his fellow students before continuing. "This is, in fact, the problem most wizards face. We simply use magic to force objects into different forms, but we don't truly alter their nature. Perhaps this is why Transfiguration has reached a bottleneck in recent decades."
Professor McGonagall studied Moriarty for a long moment before she lifted a single finger. "That is an intriguing observation, Mr. Moriarty.
Since you're already thinking at this level, I assume you are familiar with the Five Exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration?"
"Yes, Professor," Moriarty answered promptly. "First, food cannot be conjured from nothing. Second, magical objects cannot be created through Transfiguration. Third, quantity cannot be changed—"
He gestured at his desk. "For example, I can transform a match into a needle, but I cannot turn one match into two needles.
Fourth, inanimate objects cannot be permanently transformed into living creatures. And finally, the fifth rule states that one cannot create something out of nothing."
"Perfect," Professor McGonagall said approvingly. "Unfortunately, these concepts are beyond first-year study, or I would have given you fifty points.
Now tell me, Mr. Moriarty, if you understand the five exceptions, why do you still have doubts?
Or perhaps…" she narrowed her eyes. "Are you questioning Gamp's Law itself?"
A heavy silence settled over the classroom. The other students gaped at Moriarty in stunned silence.
Meeting Professor McGonagall's gaze, Moriarty replied evenly, "I accept the first four exceptions, but I have doubts about the fifth.
As I mentioned earlier, we force objects to change their form, but we don't change their essence. If we could discover a method to alter an object's intrinsic nature, then perhaps we could create something out of nothing."
Professor McGonagall frowned slightly. "That is quite the bold assertion. However, you are mistaken in one regard—you described Transfiguration as 'forcing' a change. Magic is not about force, Mr. Moriarty.
The greatest Transfiguration experts have all agreed on this: magic is the miracle that occurs when one reshapes nature according to their will."
"In that case," Moriarty countered, "consider Animagi and Metamorphmagi. Animagi willingly take on the form of an animal, and Metamorphmagi can change their appearance at will.
But an inanimate object, such as a matchstick, lacks consciousness—how can it 'willingly' transform into a needle?
I believe that if we can find a way to connect with objects and allow them to change willingly, rather than being forced, we may discover the key to essential Transfiguration."
Professor McGonagall stared at him, her expression unreadable.
Moriarty continued. "The second issue arises from the concept of existence and non-existence. Only seven Animagi were registered in the 20th century, and you, Professor, are one of them. When you become a cat, that specific tabby cat did not exist before—it was brought into being through magic.
This suggests that existence and non-existence are linked through Transfiguration. If we solve these two problems, we might be able to create true objects from nothing."
Professor McGonagall remained silent for a long moment before sighing. "An ambitious idea. A fascinating analysis. However, I cannot provide a definitive answer. I suggest you submit your thoughts to Transfiguration Today. The experts there would be most interested in such a discussion."
Moriarty nodded, though he was mildly disappointed. In truth, he had begun questioning Gamp's Law long before attending Hogwarts.
Raising his cedar wand, he conjured a small orb of water. The liquid then solidified into ice.
The class gasped as Moriarty stared at the ice, his gaze sharp. A moment later, the ice vanished.
Professor McGonagall's eyes flickered. "You attempted to turn the ice into gas, didn't you?"
"Exactly," Moriarty admitted. "If we can change matter between different states, perhaps we can learn to change its essence."
McGonagall hesitated, then said, "Five points for your curiosity and intellect, Mr. Moriarty."
And with that, she hurried from the room.