Chapter 4: The toothpick can dance.
After Dobby had left, Harry turned his attention to another magical subject that had piqued his curiosity: Transfiguration. Having just delved into Potions, Harry noted the striking similarities between Potions and chemistry from his previous life. With that comparison in mind, he wondered if Transfiguration could be akin to physics, given its focus on changing the properties of objects. He opened his first-year Transfiguration textbook with a sense of anticipation.
Two hours later, Harry closed the book with a sigh. "Reading alone won't be enough," he muttered to himself. "If I don't practise, I'll never truly master the magic."
Determined to make progress, Harry leaned back in his chair and tried to recall his memories of Transfiguration magic from the time when this body was purely Harry Potter’s. The first spell he had learned at Hogwarts came to mind: the simple act of turning a matchstick into a silver needle.
"Well," Harry thought, "I don't have any matches with me, but that shouldn't be a problem. I do have some toothpicks, and they’re already somewhat shaped like needles. It might even make things easier."
He set a toothpick on the desk before him and focused his wand. His first attempt at the spell yielded no results. Frowning, Harry tried again and again, but the toothpick stubbornly remained as it was. After several tries, the results were only marginally better, with the toothpick showing the same slight transformation that Hermione had achieved during their first class.
Harry sat back, thinking deeply. "It seems when it comes to magic that this body has already learned, I do have an advantage. But success clearly depends on my understanding and intent." He realised that, unlike with Potions, where the process was akin to following a recipe, Transfiguration required a more nuanced approach. Intent and visualisation were key.
Harry picked up a silver needle in one hand and the toothpick in the other, feeling the difference between the two. The silver needle was cold and heavier than the wooden toothpick. He closed his eyes, visualising the transformation—each atom of the toothpick shifting, changing, becoming like the atoms of the silver needle. He repeated this visualisation in his mind for about ten minutes, building a clear and strong image of the transformation process.
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Feeling more confident, Harry tried the spell again. This time, there was a noticeable change—the toothpick began to shimmer and shift, partially transforming into a silver needle, though it still bore some imperfections. Harry smiled to himself, satisfied with the progress. "It’s working," he thought, "but I need to make it faster."
He continued practising, repeating the spell over and over. With each attempt, he shortened the time needed for the transformation. After twenty tries, he could turn the toothpick into a near-perfect silver needle in just two minutes.
"Alright," Harry mused, "let's change things up a bit. If I can turn a toothpick into a silver needle, I should be able to do the reverse as well."
The idea of reversing the transformation intrigued him, as it would demonstrate his control over the magic. He focused on the silver needle in his hand, visualising it becoming a simple wooden toothpick again. His first few attempts required careful concentration and took about five minutes of visualisation, but the needle did begin to change. After several more tries, Harry could transfigure the needle back into a toothpick with increasing ease.
By the time dinner approached, Harry was able to switch between the two forms—needle to toothpick, toothpick to needle—in less than a minute. Satisfied with his progress but feeling the strain of prolonged concentration, he decided to take a break. "That’s enough for now," he muttered to himself as he set down the needle. "I’m hungry, and I’ve worn myself out."
After a quick dinner in the Dining hall, where he overheard resident gossiping about Sirius Black's whereabouts and speculating about his motives for breaking out of Azkaban, Harry's mind wandered to the fugitive wizard's true motivation. He knew why Black had escaped, but he also knew it wasn't time to act on that knowledge yet. He needed to fully adapt to his new circumstances first.
As he returned to his room, Harry realised he still had some time before bed. "Why not try out the famous Levitation Charm—Wingardium Leviosa?" he thought.
He recalled the spell’s instructions: a swish and flick of the wand, accompanied by the incantation. The charm was designed to levitate objects, ranging from light feathers to heavier items, and could even be used to lift other people. Harry decided to start small. He focused on a single page of parchment, but his first few attempts were unsuccessful. However, with persistence, the page began to lift off the desk, floating a few inches above it.
Harry noted that practising magic seemed to make each subsequent spell easier. "It’s like exercising a muscle," he mused. "The more you use it, the stronger it becomes." Encouraged, he attempted to levitate the toothpick, but it stubbornly remained grounded.
He concentrated harder, visualising the toothpick rising, feeling its weight in his mind, and after a few moments of intense focus, the toothpick finally lifted into the air. With growing confidence, Harry made it dance lightly in the air, guiding it with the tip of his wand.
When he finally glanced at the clock, it was already 11 PM. Exhausted but content with his progress, Harry stifled a yawn and headed to bed. He paused by Hedwig’s cage, gently stroking her feathers. "Goodnight, Hedwig," he whispered, feeling the warmth of her presence.
As he drifted off to sleep, Harry’s thoughts lingered on the day’s successes and the challenges yet to come. He was gradually mastering the basics of magic, but the road ahead was still long and filled with uncertainty. Yet, with each spell, each tiny victory, he was getting closer to understanding
the true potential of his abilities.