Transfiguration Class
Ryan Ollivander, oblivious to the small commercial earthquake he had left behind after exiting the Great Hall, was now in the Transfiguration classroom. There were still ten minutes before class began and his first formal encounter of the year with the famous Professor McGonagall.
He sat in the third row, a strategically neutral spot: not too close to duty, not so far as to seem indifferent.
Leaning back in his chair, his feet were crossed on the desk with calculated insolence. His sunglasses shielded his eyes from the sunlight streaming through the window.
Between his fingers, he spun the griffin feather quill with ease, as if it were a Counter Strike knife.
His gaze was lost on the stone ceiling, but his mind was far from idle.
Spell formulas, runic combinations, anchoring charms for objects, methods for fixing temporary effects.
The perfect sleep potion he had taken in the Room of Requirement the night before had worked wonders. Not only did he feel no fatigue, but he was in a mental state of focus bordering on clinical.
'What if I combine a retention rune with an auditory projection charm? A quill that could also read aloud what it writes?... Too many issues with ambient noise… It could work like a voice recorder, maybe…'
A slight movement in his field of vision pulled him back to the present.
Someone had sat down next to him.
Out of the corner of his eye, he recognized the posture, the calm gait, the effortless way she adjusted her uniform: Emmeline.
He neither looked at her nor greeted her. She didn't either, though she studied him for a few seconds before turning her attention back to the front.
Silence lingered between them, broken only by the classroom's murmur, where arriving students greeted each other, laughed, or complained about how hard it was to wake up early after summer.
A few more seconds passed.
Then Emmeline spoke, straight to the point:
"Some first-years are coming after class. They want to buy a quill from you. Or at least ask about prices."
'Whoa… that little stunt really worked. And it's good to have a reliable partner like her to give me the heads-up,' Ryan thought, keeping his posture.
"Thanks for telling me," Ryan replied simply, without sarcasm.
The short, genuine phrase surprised Emmeline, who had expected some smug comment like "obviously" or "see? I already have fans." But no. Just a plain thank you.
She didn't answer. But she gave him another sidelong glance before fixing her eyes on the front again.
A comfortable silence settled back between them.
Class hadn't started yet, but the Transfiguration room was quickly filling.
Students from both Gryffindor and Slytherin took their seats. The division was clear. They didn't mix across houses, given the sharp rivalry between lions and serpents.
The general murmur blended with the sound of benches scraping, bags being dropped, and quills being unsheathed. The high-ceilinged, polished stone classroom had a severe air that commanded respect even before the professor arrived.
That was when the most notable group of Slytherins entered.
Through the door, in a loosely organized file, came:
Andromeda Black, impeccable as always, with firm stride, perfectly tied hair, and a serene gaze.
At her side, though they didn't seem particularly close, Lucius Malfoy—haughty, robes pressed, blonde mane combed with the care of someone heading to a diplomatic event.
Then Evan Rosier, relaxed, with a lazy smile and an air of elegant boredom.
Mulciber, heavy-footed, looking like he was already searching for a fight.
Rabastan Lestrange, slightly hunched forward, whispering something mocking to Evan.
Lucius was the first to spot him.
The moment he stepped into the room and scanned it, his eyes landed on Ryan Ollivander.
Third row. Dark glasses. Feet crossed on the desk.
Reclined, with the posture of a bored king, spinning the griffin quill between his fingers like a modern scepter.
That same quill, which only minutes earlier had been offered for "just" 250 galleons, was now merely a toy in his hands.
Lucius said nothing. But he did raise an eyebrow.
Evan noticed him too and let out a short nasal laugh.
"Look at that. Already in character this early."
Andromeda, walking a few steps behind, said nothing. She went straight to her usual desk. But before sitting down, she cast Ryan a brief, fleeting glance.
Rabastan watched him with an expression caught between amusement and annoyance.
"Are those sunglasses… or vanity glasses?"
Mulciber clicked his tongue, muttering under his breath,
"He's going to break the chair from trying so hard to look important…"
But no one stopped.
They kept moving through the classroom, taking their seats in the rows far from the Gryffindors.
A few minutes later, another large group of Gryffindors arrived, entering the room with a livelier, less ceremonial stride.
Gideon and Fabian Prewett came first, chatting animatedly. Callum and Jamie followed behind, a bit more serious, though Callum immediately noticed Ryan, sitting there with the posture of a bored genius.
Marlene, Dorcas, Celeste, and Alicia arrived almost together, settling into the row right in front.
They too saw Ryan, with Emmeline at his side. Calm, impeccable, silent.
But there.
Dorcas couldn't hold back. She turned her head toward Alicia, arching an eyebrow as if to say: told you so.
Alicia said nothing, though she pressed her lips together like someone unwilling to admit agreement… but unable to deny it either.
Celeste lowered her gaze to the desk, hiding a smile. Marlene only observed in silence, sitting down beside Celeste.
Only a few minutes remained before Professor McGonagall entered the classroom.
The murmurs softened, falling into that expectant hush that precedes a lesson where even the slightest mistake could cost points, reputation… or a cutting remark from the head of house.
Ryan remained in his position. His thoughts, however, turned toward Emmeline, who sat beside him in her usual quiet, her Transfiguration book already open.
She had been his first buyer of the "2x speed" glasses. She'd also bought an eagle quill, though she hadn't known he was the inventor. Yet, she had helped him indirectly.
Thanks to her, Pandora had asked about the quill and bought one.
Then she'd spread good word of mouth. How did he know? Alicia had just purchased a quill from him minutes ago.
And how had Alicia learned he was the creator? Simple: Emmeline had told her, clearly giving his product a glowing review.
And now… now she'd just told him that some first-years would be coming after class to buy from him. If she hadn't mentioned it, he would have left as soon as class ended, missing out on potential customers.
He glanced at her sideways. Emmeline, focused on the book, as if nothing had happened.
Beautiful, he thought with all the honesty of a fifteen-year-old boy. Long hair, naturally wavy, crystalline blue eyes, straight posture, elegant…
But it wasn't just that. She tolerated his sarcasm. She answered back. She wasn't swayed or intimidated. Their conversations, brief as they were, carried intelligence.
And the silences were comfortable.
'Comfortable silences? We've known each other for one day…' Ryan quickly brushed the thought aside.
Even if he had died and transmigrated into this body, in his past life he had been fifteen, same as here. He was still an adolescent, body and mind. Hormones worked against him.
He was leaning toward giving her this griffin quill as a gift. Genuinely grateful for what she'd done, showing off a little in front of a pretty girl, and of course, adding some flair to the act.
The guy who said the quill was worth 250 galleons, now giving it away to a girl like it's nothing? That's my idol!
The quill had cost him 20 galleons without enchantments, a considerable investment even for someone with decent income or profits. Inscribing the runes had taken him 25 minutes, not that long. It had only taken more time because, with double the effects, it was slightly trickier.
'Truth is… it cost me 20 galleons. With the margin I've already gained thanks to her, it's more than a reasonable gift,' he thought.
As for the 250 galleons he had claimed out loud…
That was theatrical exaggeration. A way to create perceived value. Yes, strictly speaking, if he followed the logic:
— An eagle quill costs 0.59 galleons.
— He sold them for 8 to 12.
— More than a thirteen-fold markup on base value.
Applying the same ratio to a griffin quill, which cost 20 galleons base, would yield 260 to 300 galleons.
But Ryan knew prices didn't work that way. Supply and demand had their own quirks, a more realistic logic.
A product was worth what the market was willing to pay, not what theoretical math dictated.
If he priced that quill at 300 galleons… chances were high no one would buy it. Even with double effects, most would prefer an 8–12 galleon quill that served the same function. Not even rich fools would shell out that much, maybe he'd find one, but certainly not many.
A reasonable price to sell it as a premium line would be at least double, that is, 40 galleons.
Ryan turned his head slightly.
"Vance," he said in his usual tone, the kind you could never quite tell if it was bored, sarcastic, or simply provocative, "I've been thinking…"
Emmeline slowly lifted her eyes from her book. One eyebrow arched, expression neutral.
"You really helped me more than you think, or maybe you know it," Ryan continued, twirling the quill between his fingers. "You became a promoter, connected sales, and kept me from missing my first first-year customers. So…"
He extended the griffin quill toward her with a smooth, fluid gesture.
"It's yours if you want it. Consider it a small thank-you from me," Ryan added with a faint smile.
His voice wasn't particularly loud, but with class minutes away from starting, the room had already quieted enough that several people overheard, and caught the moment.
'Is he giving it away? The 250-galleon quill?' everyone thought.
The atmosphere in the room shifted slightly. A low murmur rippled through. Many cast discreet glances toward Ryan and Emmeline.
Emmeline looked at the quill Ryan was holding out. Then at him. It was hard for her to see his eyes behind the glasses.
"Is this another one of your sales tactics… or do you really think my help is worth a griffin quill supposedly valued at 250 galleons?"
Ryan tilted his head slightly. His glasses still hid his eyes, but his smile was visible: small and sure.
"Your help is worth more than a simple, cheap griffin quill," Ryan said, pausing. "If I had a phoenix quill, I'd give you that instead."
Emmeline almost rolled her eyes. She wanted to, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction. She took the quill from his hand and examined it with interest.
"It's beautiful, really," Emmeline said, no dramatics, just her characteristically direct tone.
"I'm glad you like it," Ryan said, turning back toward the front with lazy ease.
"You're really giving it to me? No tricks?" Emmeline asked, suspicious.
"Of course. Who do you take me for? I can buy another one for 20 galleons and enchant it for myself," Ryan said with a dismissive gesture, as if 20 galleons were pocket change to him.
"Good. It's nice to see you being considerate. Hand over the case, I'd appreciate the gift more with the full set," Emmeline replied with a slight smile that softened her features. She leaned a bit toward Ryan, surprising him with her sudden smile.
"Yes… of course. Almost forgot the case," he answered, rummaging through the inside pocket of his robe and pulling out a small case. He handed it to her.
She accepted it without ceremony, opened the case, placed the quill inside, and returned to her book as if nothing had happened. As if she hadn't just accepted an expensive gift, in public, from a boy with sunglasses and a sly grin.
There were several silent reactions to the exchange. Fabian and Gideon Prewett exchanged glances, understanding each other without words.
'Did she smile?'
'Yeah, brother. She smiled.'
Callum and Jamie limited themselves to watching Ryan with a mix of awkward respect and bewilderment, as if they had just seen someone catch a Snitch with a spoon. They knew Ryan was confident, his looks, his skills, his personality. But it was another thing entirely for a public attempt at flirting with Emmeline Vance to actually work.
Dorcas muttered under her breath,
"No way. Last year I didn't see her smile even once…"
Marlene, sitting further ahead, crossed her arms without turning around. But anyone watching closely would notice the tension in her shoulders.
Alicia, on the other hand, froze. She didn't look directly at him, but her fingers fidgeted with the case of her newly bought enchanted quill. Her lips pressed tight.
And a clear line of thought ran through her mind:
'You sold me a quill for eight galleons and gave her one "worth" 250…?'
Yes, she knew exactly why she was upset. But that didn't mean she wanted to admit it.
Meanwhile, Ryan said nothing. His smile barely visible. He hadn't planned it out this well. Not entirely.
The gift had been half impulse, half game. A mix of strategy, gratitude, and a pinch of flirtation he hadn't quite believed would work.
Because, if he was honest, he had prepared himself for Emmeline to refuse the quill. Or to accept it with a neutral, cold look, like someone allowing a gesture purely out of protocol.
She seemed like that kind of person. But no. She accepted it and even smiled faintly, amused. She teased him playfully about the case.
She played along. In front of everyone.
'Not bad,' Ryan thought, staring at the ceiling through his dark glasses as his chair rocked slightly. 'Much better than I expected.'
And then the door opened.
...
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