Devro took a deep breath, straightened his clothes, and knocked on the door.
"Come in."
Professor McGonagall's voice rang from inside the room.
Devro pushed open the door and stepped into her office. The space was filled with the scent of old books, and the walls were lined with shelves neatly packed with volumes on Transfiguration. A fireplace blazed in the center of the room, radiating a steady warmth.
Typical British, lighting a fireplace even in summer, Devro thought to himself. The highest summer temperature in Britain rarely exceeded the low twenties in Celsius. Most days, the average was even below that. During his year in the country, he'd come to know this cool and damp climate well. Sometimes, he even feared the humidity would give him rheumatism.
So it wasn't surprising at all to see Professor McGonagall keeping the fire going, even in early September.
Professor McGonagall sat behind a large desk, her eyes scanning a document intently. When she looked up and saw Devro, a small smile appeared on her face.
"Mr. Alexander, you've arrived. Do you have any questions for me?"
Devro nodded, expressing his thanks before speaking.
"Professor McGonagall, I encountered a problem in class."
He paused briefly to collect his thoughts before continuing.
"Do you remember the matchstick I turned into a needle during class—without using a wand?"
She nodded slightly.
"That was a remarkable achievement, one rarely seen even in upper-year students. Is there a problem with it?"
Devro frowned slightly. "Yes, there is. I've found that I can only perform that particular Transfiguration on that specific matchstick. I can't replicate the process with another object—or even another matchstick."
He took a breath before continuing. "The Transfiguration I used wasn't the standard technique you teach. It was something I derived myself—through observation."
He'd said quite a lot in one go, and paused to catch his breath.
Professor McGonagall put down the document she was reading. Her expression grew serious. With a wave of her wand, a teacup floated over and landed gently in front of Devro. She tapped the table twice, and steaming hot tea poured itself into the cup.
"Have some tea first, Alexander. Now, tell me—what do you mean by a Transfiguration you observed yourself?"
Devro picked up the teacup, blew gently, and took a sip. The temperature was perfect—neither too hot nor too cool.
"Professor, I can see the microscopic structure of things," he began.
"The Transfiguration I developed is based on that ability. I observe the structure at a microscopic level, then use that understanding to manipulate it with a spell. It's different from traditional Transfiguration, which relies more on abstract magical principles. Mine is more tangible—more grounded."
"It also allows me to perform Transfiguration without a wand, but there's a limit: I can only apply it to objects whose microscopic structure I've observed beforehand. And each object's structure is unique. Observing one matchstick doesn't help with another."
He paused again and pulled out the matchstick from his pocket, demonstrating the transformation repeatedly.
Professor McGonagall watched, stunned.
This wasn't the level a first-year should be at.
Devro took another sip of tea. It was sweet—practically a dessert in liquid form.
Professor McGonagall's eyes were filled with astonishment. She looked as though she were rapidly flipping through every Transfiguration theory she had ever read, trying to fit Devro's technique into the framework of known magic.
Her gaze sharpened, almost piercing, as if trying to catch any falsehood in Devro's explanation.
But Devro remained calm, sipping his tea like none of this was a big deal.
Is this truly feasible? Professor McGonagall wondered.
She gripped the edge of her desk unconsciously. Her glasses slipped down her nose, but she didn't adjust them. Her full attention remained fixed on Devro.
Eventually, she exhaled slowly and adjusted her glasses with a trembling hand.
"Alexander, your discovery might just represent a new frontier in Transfiguration," she said at last.
"There have been hypotheses about microscopic-level transformations in the past. But no one has ever produced concrete results. The major limitation has always been—"
She paused and narrowed her eyes.
"—observation. So tell me, Alexander. How exactly are you observing these microscopic structures?"
Devro was prepared for this.
"Professor, it's my talent," he said smoothly, without any hesitation.
"I've had an unusually sharp perception since childhood. You probably know that I'm Professor Snape's Potions apprentice. Since I was young, I've been able to identify potions just by their scent."
He spoke with calm confidence, as if recounting an ordinary fact of life.
"As I grew older, my ability evolved. About a month ago, it reached a new level—I could suddenly feel things more clearly. In your class, when you said that Transfiguration only changes structure but not essence, I was inspired to explore the deepest layers of objects."
He looked Professor McGonagall straight in the eyes. "That's how I made this discovery."
There wasn't a hint of panic or hesitation in his tone. Everything he said sounded perfectly natural.
"Talent?" Professor McGonagall echoed, raising an eyebrow.
She clearly wasn't entirely convinced.
Devro had anticipated this too.
"If you have any doubts, Professor, I suggest asking Professor Snape about me. He's seen me improve the Polyjuice Potion. I believe he'll vouch for my abilities."
Professor McGonagall hesitated for a moment, then gave a small smile.
"If this is true, Alexander, then we must investigate further. Perhaps we can research this new form of Transfiguration together."
Devro smiled politely and nodded. "Thank you, Professor. I would be honored to explore it with you."
She fell silent for a moment, then said, "I recall that the most recent major research in microscopic magic structures was published seven years ago. I'll locate that material. Perhaps, with your talent, we might make real breakthroughs in this field."
With a wave of her wand, the teacup vanished from the table.
"Now, return to your dormitory and rest. We'll continue this conversation after Thursday's class."
Devro glanced at his watch. It was getting late. He had spent quite a bit of time getting lost in the secret passages earlier.
He raised his hand hesitantly.
"Professor, I do have one more question."
Professor McGonagall paused and gestured for him to continue.
"Do you know anything about the so-called... unnameable existence?"