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⏰ Resets Monday!
The warm spring sunshine lasted less than two weeks over the castle. After a rainstorm, the barely-warmed temperature dropped again. Cool winds brought the Easter holidays.
No students left for Easter. The professors unanimously assigned piles of essays. Unless Anthony went to the Restricted Section, finding a library seat was nearly impossible. And right now, he wanted nothing to do with Dark Magic.
So he sat in the staff room, holding tea, watching Professor McGonagall grade papers. For her, this probably counted as holiday leisure. At least she'd chosen to lean back in her chair with red tea fragrance, frowning over these library transfiguration excerpts—rather than commanding quills in her office to rapidly correct student errors.
Professor Sprout had gone to tend a "sensitive and suspicious vine" in the greenhouse. Most other professors were in their offices, using the holiday for magical research. Anthony had planned to visit Hagrid, but found him gone from his hut. Probably out drinking.
Anthony maintained his reputation for never assigning homework. When he dismissed class and wished everyone happy holidays, he received enthusiastic applause. He himself received a genuinely leisurely holiday.
As he ate his fifth pale green biscuit while reading Twenty-Five Common Transfigurations Explained, Professor McGonagall finally spoke without looking up. "Could you pass me one, Henry?"
Anthony floated the entire plate over. "Have you tried these? Pomona can't quite get used to them herself."
These very Easter-appropriate colored biscuits came from Professor Sprout. She'd mistakenly added mint juice meant for chocolate into dough she'd planned to color with spinach juice. Made the best of it and baked distinctively flavored mint butter biscuits. Anthony rather liked them. Traded a woven straw dog for all the leftovers.
Professor McGonagall picked one up. Whether from the essay or the biscuit, her frown deepened.
"Something else, Minerva?" Anthony asked, rising to open the staff room snack cabinet. "I remember we have... oh, right. Easter specials."
Taking advantage of the holiday, Honeydukes had released limited-edition Easter egg chocolates. Crack the shell and chocolate bunnies jumped out. White chocolate ones had cranberry eyes. Black bunnies had blackcurrant eyes.
Dumbledore had timely changed his office password, filling the staff room cabinet with masses of egg chocolates.
"No, thank you," Professor McGonagall said. Sipped her tea. Pressed her lips together sternly at the essay, as if the student stood before her.
Anthony took an egg and cracked it. Quick reflexes—grabbed the bunny's ears before it could hop far. Looked troubled at the dark chocolate in his hand.
"This looks too alive," he complained. "Did they have to make it move constantly?"
He had no interest in swallowing a live rabbit.
Professor McGonagall glanced at him from behind the parchment. Tapped her wand. Turned the Easter bunny back into still chocolate. The rabbit maintained its half-kick posture, as if petrified.
The Transfiguration professor said, "Transfiguration, Henry."
Anthony remembered something. "Speaking of which, I've never been able to learn transfiguration involving living things. Whether turning dead things into living things, or living things into dead things—completely impossible."
"But everything else is fine?" Professor McGonagall asked with interest, setting down her essay.
Anthony glanced at it. The nine-inch essay began in huge letters: "As everyone knows, Transfiguration is quite important to a wizard's magical life. We believe its importance is self-evident, not only because it constitutes all aspects of life, but also because it plays an important role in various productions..."
He understood why Professor McGonagall found his randomly raised question more worthy of attention.
"Should be fine." He withdrew his gaze. Tapped the round table before him with his wand, changed it to a small brown square table, adjusted the size of the empty chair beside it.
Professor McGonagall said, "Very skilled. Try turning this table into a pig?"
Anthony began performing "holding wand while staring at table" for her, until Professor McGonagall shook her head and stopped him.
"What are you worried about, Henry?" she asked. "You completely don't believe you should be able to do this, or rather, you completely don't want to actually transfigure it. You're acting like a first-year afraid of making mistakes."
Anthony tilted his head, thought for a moment. Said doubtfully, "I'm not worried about anything. One of the magical world's top Transfiguration masters is sitting across from me. What do I have to worry about?"
"What was the first transfiguration you absolutely couldn't succeed at?"
"Beetle to button or button to beetle. Can't quite remember."
Professor McGonagall nodded. "Beetle to button. Second year, first lesson." She sipped her tea. "Did you have any doubts then? Like, what if the beetle suddenly flies away, or any thought that made it seem completely unreasonable?" In her teaching career, she'd clearly encountered many students tripped up by their own concerns.
"Don't think so... wait. Oh." Anthony remembered. "I was thinking about what happens after."
He explained: "I was thinking if the beetle becomes a button and gets sewn onto... say, my shirt—would it hurt? If it's sewn on and then the transfiguration's reversed, what part of the beetle would the thread go through? How would it feel? If it turns back into a button, is the hole position fixed, or would I have a button with thread fused into the material?"
Professor McGonagall said, "Well, I see where the problem is." She studied Anthony. "I didn't realize you were a horror novel enthusiast, Henry. Can't imagine where you got these ideas.
"If that's your concern, you have my assurance: even if you sewed the button onto Albus's hat, nothing would happen to the beetle when the transfiguration's reversed. As long as you don't catch it again, it'll fly freely out the window."
"What?"
Professor McGonagall pointed at his book. "Look further back. Near the last chapter there's a section reviewing magical theory models of Transfiguration. Overall, I lean toward supporting the Wofflin school in space-time theory—quite orthodox... In your example, the thread only interacts with the button and fabric, not the beetle. So when we try to restore it, the button disappears, the beetle returns, the thread continues interacting with the fabric. Henry, your beetle doesn't need to worry about needles and thread."
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