Chapter 94: The Double and Transfiguration
"Shawn, where did you conjure all those books from?"
Justin hurried to take a few volumes when he saw Shawn emerge from the changing room with his arms full.
"Mm…"
Shawn thought back to the scene inside.
Fred had pulled A Beginner's Guide to Ancient Runes from the clothing lockers. George had fished a Magical Runes Dictionary out from where the brooms were stored. Even the furthest corner had been stuffed with a copy of A Phonetic Table of Magical Script.
It was hard to imagine Madam Pince's expression if she ever saw this.
"These are all introductory texts on ancient runes," George had said with a shrug.
"If you want to learn alchemy, you have to start with these," Fred added, tossing him a compendium called Magical Sigils.
"Just remember to return them."
"The due dates are stamped inside."
"Put my name down, Fred."
"And mine, George."
Now, outside the changing room and facing Justin's curious question, Shawn decided there was no way to explain that chaos cleanly. He summed it up in one line.
"Two older students gave them to me."
Justin did not press. He only eyed the pile of obviously ancient books with interest. Even with Madam Pince's careful care, the pages had yellowed and gone fragile at the edges.
Hermione plucked A Beginner's Guide to Ancient Runes from Justin's hands. The title alone had caught her attention.
Shawn held A Phonetic Table of Magical Script and, with the noise of the Quidditch pitch fading behind them, walked back toward the castle.
His guess had been right. Enchanted objects were almost always inscribed with spellwork in ancient runes. Those old characters seemed naturally suited to holding more magic.
To understand the complex, precise, and profound craft of alchemical construction, the first step was to learn those runes.
Third‑years and above could take Ancient Runes at Hogwarts, taught by Professor Bathsheda Babbling. Hermione had chosen it in her third year and earned good marks.
Reading these books in between Charms and Transfiguration practice seemed a fine way to fill his gaps.
So Shawn thought.
The weekend flashed by.
Shawn grew quickly used to flying straight from the grounds up to the Ravenclaw Tower.
Michael, on the other hand, nearly collapsed on the endless stairs. He had fallen into the habit of looking for Shawn's figure whenever he climbed, and one day a strong gust of wind rushed past him.
He looked up just in time to see Shawn touch down gracefully on the topmost landing.
His arrival drew gasps, especially when the Ravenclaws saw that the pilot was a slight, handsome first‑year.
"Is that… a first‑year?"
"I heard yesterday that a first‑year student passed the flight test. You do not think that is…"
"It cannot be Shawn. I must be seeing things. He looks like he can barely manage the stairs…"
Michael tried to tell himself the same thing. Then he saw the Nimbus 2000 resting in their dormitory, and all the words he had lined up jammed in his throat.
They all came out as one plea.
"Teach me, Shawn! Please! I really want to learn this~"
…
Stairs were no longer a problem for Shawn. He poured the saved time into Transfiguration, Charms, and Potions.
In the Transfiguration classroom,
"Today we will learn how to turn the self into a living creature," Professor McGonagall said. "It is more difficult than simply animating an object and demands stricter control. If you make a mistake, any kind of result is possible."
Her tone was unusually severe. She flipped through Shawn's essay, nodded, and was faintly satisfied.
"Then you should know which self‑transfiguration is easiest to attempt first."
"The animal that corresponds to one's Double, Professor," Shawn answered.
He had already written it in his essay.
In many Celtic, Scandinavian, and Germanic legends, people are directly connected to certain animals. These otherworldly beings often 'choose to become a person's guardian form and remain by their side,' symbolising 'a person's fate, with both human and animal shapes.
If Shawn was right, wizards naturally possessed their own unique Double, most clearly shown in an Animagus form.
James Potter, for instance, had a stag for a Double. It showed in his Patronus and in his Animagus shape.
If Animagus was the final form of "self" transformation, then following one's own nature should make the first steps easier.
"Very good," McGonagall said.
She handed him a book filled with examples of different animal Doubles. Shawn was still leafing through it when he left the classroom.
If he could identify the form he most easily turned into… did that mean he would have found his Animagus?
He would not dream of trying it without Expert‑level Transfiguration. It would be far too unstable.
So, grinding Transfiguration moved to the top of his schedule.
Over the week,
Justin, Hermione, and Neville grew used to seeing boars thundering across the classroom or a sleek, well‑groomed cat washing its paws.
Sometimes even tables sprouted legs. Stools could not be trusted either; they might become little steam‑puffing turtles at any moment.
Thankfully, Shawn confined his experiments to his own patch of floor. Otherwise, Justin did not know how many of his cauldron cakes would have ended up eaten by wild pigs.
On a cold but bright Thursday,
Shawn heard the panel's chime in his head.
[You practised in‑depth Intermediate Transfiguration once at Proficient standard, Proficiency +50]
[A new Transfiguration‑domain title has been unlocked. Please check.]
His Transfiguration proficiency had passed nine thousand. Heart pounding, Shawn opened the panel.
[Title: Transfiguration Master]
[Greatly increases sensitivity to Transfiguration. Greatly enhances Transfiguration talent. Greatly improves the unique perception of transitions from non‑magic to magic within Transfiguration.]
Unique perception of non‑magic becoming magic?
Shawn's thoughts went at once to advanced Transfiguration, especially turning "objects" into "magic."
Dumbledore's water‑prison in the Ministry battle was the classic example: he had turned a pool into a cage and trapped Voldemort inside.
By then, the water was no longer a simple liquid. It was, precisely, a prison‑spell made of water.
It said enough about the power of Transfiguration at that level.
Before testing this new talent, Shawn packed up his things.
It was Thursday. From Thursday onward, he would be spending every day in the dungeons brewing.
The torches in the stone corridors flickered, shadows swaying on the walls.
The air had turned sharply colder; each breath misted white.
He reached the dim wooden door, and when he pushed it open, damp mildew and potion ingredients swept out to meet him.
The exhaustion left by the modified ritual had faded. Shawn was ready to resume the task he had left unfinished: testing how a wizard's emotions affected potions.
Assuming, of course, that Professor Snape allowed him to tinker at all.