The next second, under the shocked gazes of the two boys, the kitten on the podium leapt down. Mid-air, it transformed into a human figure—becoming the spitting image of Professor McGonagall.
Ron and Harry stood dumbfounded.
The surrounding new students wore similar expressions. None of them had realized that the cat they had just seen was actually Professor McGonagall. At the same time, they were quietly grateful they hadn't been late or done anything they shouldn't have… like trying to pet the cat.
Only Hermione remained calm.
"That's amazing..." Ron finally managed, snapping out of his daze, but the embarrassed flush on his face betrayed his thoughts.
"Thank you for your compliment, Mr. Weasley," Professor McGonagall replied flatly. "Perhaps I should turn you and Mr. Potter into pocket watches, so that at least one of you can respect time."
Harry muttered in defense, "We got lost..."
"Then become a map."
Faced with McGonagall's stern, unsmiling face, the two wisely shut their mouths.
"Go sit down."
Hearing her words, they felt as if they'd been pardoned. They glanced around, spotted Hermione, and quickly made their way to her side, sitting down like old friends.
Hermione didn't even look up. The boys didn't mind, craning their necks to peek at the book in her hands.
Although Hermione kept her distance, so far, she was the most familiar face among the new students besides each other.
Professor McGonagall didn't give them a practical lesson on Transfiguration today. Instead, she roughly explained the basics—the rules and branches of the subject: Animagus, Summoning, Revealing, Cross-species Transformation, Human Transfiguration, and so on.
At the same time, she showed off a little, eliciting exclamations from the young wizards.
The first class ended on a high note, with laughter and excitement.
After class, the students chatted as they walked, discussing the magical displays they had just witnessed.
"Did you see that? A rat actually turned into a glass!" Ron exclaimed, his face still glowing with excitement as he turned to Harry.
Harry shared his sentiment. For the first time, he truly felt he had stepped into a real world of magic.
Noticing Hermione's indifferent look, Harry couldn't help but ask, "Hermione, didn't you think Professor McGonagall's magic was amazing?"
He couldn't understand why the pretty girl in front of him always seemed so calm, no matter the occasion. After all, she was their age.
Thinking about it, Harry suddenly had a flash of inspiration. "Could it be that you, like Ron, come from a wizarding family?"
Hermione shook her head. "No. My parents are both Muggles."
Ron stiffened at her words, visibly wounded. He, born into a pure wizarding family, still made a big deal out of every little magic trick, while this girl—who'd supposedly never been exposed to magic before—seemed more knowledgeable than him.
"Well..." Hermione paused, thinking for a moment. "It is impressive, but once you learn it, you realize it's actually quite ordinary."
Harry and Ron exchanged glances.
Ron, unconvinced, challenged, "You say that like you can do it too."
"Well, I can," Hermione nodded matter-of-factly.
The boys froze, eyes wide with disbelief.
Ron had only wanted to needle Hermione over her dismissive attitude, but her calm admission left him speechless.
Even Harry, though silent, couldn't hide the doubt in his eyes.
Seeing their disbelief, Hermione smiled faintly and said, "What if I really can?"
Ron scoffed. "If you can, I'll eat Harry's quill. Satisfied?"
Harry: ???
Why is my quill involved in your bet?
"Okay," Hermione replied simply. She drew her wand and pointed it at the quill in Harry's hand.
"Ferula Verto!"
As the spell landed, a light flashed at her wand tip. Under the stunned gazes of the boys, the quill's head, claws, and tail gradually took shape, until it fully transformed into a rat—completely unrecognizable as a quill.
The rat leapt from Harry's hand and scurried onto Ron's body, alive and kicking.
The boys could only stare, mouths agape, Ron especially—his jaw dropped so wide he could've swallowed an egg whole.
Hermione, seeing their shocked faces, allowed a tiny smirk to tug at her lips. Calmly, she said two words:
"Eat it."
No way. She really did it?
Ron looked dumbfounded as the rat crawled over him. He swallowed hard and glanced at Harry for help.
Harry quickly sidestepped, averting his gaze as if to say: Your bet, not mine. Leave me out of this.
Just like that, their little friendship boat capsized.
The thought of eating the rat made Ron's stomach turn. Not only was it a live creature, but he also liked rats—he even kept one, Scabbers (Peter—no, not Peter… right?), as a pet.
Hermione didn't quite get the depth of Ron's horror, but she respected it. With a casual wave of her wand, she reversed the spell, and the rat instantly turned back into a quill and dropped to the floor.
"Heh."
With a chuckle, Hermione turned and left without looking back.
Ron and Harry stood rooted to the spot, still wide-eyed. They could see the same shock mirrored in each other's faces.
They both knew that none of the standard books sold in Diagon Alley covered practical Transfiguration spells in detail. Meaning, Hermione had watched McGonagall perform it once—and immediately mastered it.
How could they not be shaken?
Even Ron, who grew up in a wizarding family, found this far beyond anything he could understand.
A genius?
No—this is on another level.
As they watched Hermione's figure retreat down the corridor, they hurried to catch up with her.
Hearing their footsteps behind her, Hermione didn't stop. Her mind was already elsewhere, scanning through the magical book in her head.
Having subdued the boys and firmly established her place in their hearts, Hermione's focus had already shifted—to the two new Transfiguration spells she'd just recorded.
[Transfiguration lv1 (1/1000)]
[Transfiguration: Animagus (Cat)]
She had just used the first spell, which slightly increased her proficiency.
She could feel that at lv1, Transfiguration allowed her to change only small objects, and the effect was temporary. Progress would improve the spell's stability, but real change would only come at lv2.
And then there was the second spell—the Animagus transformation she hadn't yet tested.
Animagus: the rare ability of wizards to transform into a single animal form while retaining their magic. According to the rules, the animal form is linked to the wizard's nature and can't be chosen or changed—one transformation, for life.
The training process was notoriously dangerous, which is why only seven wizards had officially registered as Animagi throughout the 20th century.
Yet, her magic book indicated she could directly transform into a cat—like McGonagall. And because Animagus transformations are permanent, there was no proficiency counter.
Which raised a new question…
Could she perhaps collect other Animagus forms too?
As she walked, lost in thought, Harry and Ron trailed her like bodyguards—still reeling from their earlier shock.
But Hermione spared no thought for their wounded pride. Her battlefield now lay ahead: the Potions classroom.
No matter the subject, the back corner of the classroom was always prime territory for a strategist. Hermione had twenty years of experience to prove it.
However, today, her corner seat—which should've been the most inconspicuous spot—had become the center of attention among the new students.
Why?
Because Professor Snape, swathed in black robes, was standing in front of Harry, glaring with cold intensity.
"Mr. Harry Potter, the famous new celebrity—tell me, what happens when you add powdered asphodel root to an infusion of wormwood?"
Harry squirmed under the professor's icy stare and glanced at Ron for help.
Ron played dead, slumping over his desk.
"I… I don't know, Professor," Harry mumbled.
"Where can bezoar stones be found?"
"I don't know…"
"And the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
"...Sorry."
"Clearly, fame isn't everything," Snape sneered, disappointment flickering in his dark eyes. "Right, Mr. Potter?"
The sarcastic tone, coupled with his lank black hair and hooked nose, gave him an aura that made the air in the classroom feel colder.
The room fell silent.
Harry's mood soured. Feeling unfairly targeted, he snapped back, "Obviously, Miss Granger knows the answer, but you're only asking people who don't know."
The entire class gasped.
Good grief—did he just challenge Snape? On day one?
Their eyes shifted toward Hermione, sitting quietly in her corner.
Hermione: ???
Excuse me? Are you kidding me right now?
She hadn't even raised her hand, yet Harry's outburst had dragged her into the line of fire.
Harry wasn't entirely wrong—after seeing her Transfiguration stunt earlier, he was starting to believe she knew everything.
Snape's gaze darkened as he turned toward Hermione.
"So, Miss Granger—since Mr. Potter believes you know the answers, let's hear them. Get them wrong, and Gryffindor loses points… What's that you're reading?"
Snape's eyes narrowed at the book on her desk.
"Hogwarts: A History?" he read aloud, his voice dripping with disdain.
Snape froze for a moment, then gave a dark, humorless chuckle.
"Miss Granger, are you reading A History of Hogwarts during my Potions class? Are you sure you didn't bring the wrong book? Or is my class no longer worth your attention?"
To be fair, Hermione had her reasons.
Every potion listed in the textbook was already recorded in her magic book. Following the recipe would guarantee success—there was no guesswork, no risk of failure.
Unless Snape showed them something beyond the textbook, there really wasn't much for her to learn here.
History was far more valuable right now.