(Arcane Tinker) Chapter 17: Structure and Chaos

AN: Like the other AT chapters so far, this isn’t part of the weekly schedule. Tomorrow will be an AWM (EM Vol. 2) chapter, like you guys chose in the last poll.

Chapter 17: Structure and Chaos

2nd September 1991, Hogwarts

This actually looked somewhat challenging, and the professor seemed to explain things very clearly. He could tell why people would find this class to be too hard, but as the explanations continued, Dean couldn’t help but feel drawn in. How curious. The Art of Change. He could work with that. After all, he was always good at art.

Dean left the transfiguration classroom feeling a mixture of curiosity but also disappointment, which was a stark contrast to the baffled look the rest of his classmates had. He couldn’t exactly blame them; the lesson was entirely theoretical and probably far more advanced than the common eleven-year-old could grasp.

There was a lot of fundamental knowledge needed to craft a spell as simple as turning a matchstick into a needle, which included fundamental methods of transfiguration. Apparently, inanimate to inanimate transfiguration was built on a certain formula, called the transformation formula, where the source and target objects, their materials and weight, were encoded through some odd runic language that was specific to transfiguration. The resulting formula was then applied through an arithmetic table to get the specific sequence of wand movements necessary for the spell to work, and there was apparently a method to add an incantation to support the spell in question, which, for some reason, was in Latin, but the professor didn’t really speak of it.

Even then, they had to concentrate while casting a spell, and essentially overcome the ‘viciousness’ of the material, which from what Dean could understand, was its own inherent identity somehow, and she still didn’t explain how people could have different details on each transfigured object, but given how baffled his classmates looked, it was properly the right decision to make.

It was obvious that McGonagall did not expect anyone to understand everything on the first day. But from the looks of it, they would spend an entire year learning only this formula, seeing different applications for it, until they mastered that single original formula by the end of the year.

So, yes, the magical field felt like a completely new way of thinking, which Dean loved, but there were also many things missing, like the fundamentals, how this formula even worked or why it did work.

Most of his schoolbook was just some examples of spells with wand movements and incantations, but with just a small introductory chapter about McGonagall’s formula. They weren’t of any help, really, but Dean wouldn’t be deterred. He would go to the library at the weekend to research it a bit more.

He waited outside for a bit to look at his schedule to see where they would be going next. Harry quickly caught up to him. He was speaking to a girl in Hufflepuff about something, apparently, he knew her from before going to Hogwarts, “Wait up, Dean.”

He rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t planning on running away, Harry. I just wanted to check my schedule in peace while staying far away from this mess.”

Harry followed his gaze and groaned as he saw Neville and Malfoy seemingly feuding again, each of them being surrounded by their friends. Thankfully, there wasn’t any magic being used, but that didn’t seem to stay the case, given that Ron Weasley's hair started to release some smoke, “Oh for Merlin’s sake, what is it now?”

Dean shrugged, “Don’t know, and if I’m completely honest, I don’t exactly care. Plus, McGonagall looks like she’ll handle it herself.”

As if summoned by his words, the transfiguration mistress opened the door brusquely, making everyone jump in panic. She didn’t say the word but simply stared at them. The crowd quickly dissipated, each person quickly going to their classroom. According to their schedule, they had a practical Charms class with the Ravenclaws.

Lisa and her friend Padma joined them quickly enough, and she spoke up, “What a lesson, huh? I feel like I’ll have to study all night just to understand one of them.”

Harry groaned, “I can’t believe Dad said that this was his favourite class. He has to be playing a prank on me or something, because I feel like I have a headache.”

Dean chuckled, folding his schedule and slipping it into his robe, “Well, he did say she was his favourite professor, not that he understood her subject. Or maybe he just liked the challenge.”

Lisa snorted at that, “That, or he had a death wish.”

“It was pretty hard, wasn’t it?” a familiar voice spoke up.

Lisa grinned widely, “Sally-Anne! Did you finally decide to leave Neville Longbottom’s side? I saw you practically staring at him for almost two hours straight during the lesson.”

The other girl blushed, “He’s nice.”

Dean spoke up for the girl’s defence, “Come on, Lisa. It’s not nice to make fun of someone’s crush, even if the guy is a bit self-absorbed.”

“He is not,” Sally-Anne heatedly projected, “He’s nice and brave…”

Lisa teased back, “You barely spoke to the guy. I’m pretty sure he spoke to Malfoy more than you, and you’re in the same house as him.”

Dean groaned back, as Sally-Anne stammered, “I’m not looking forward to these two fighting. At least we won’t have the Slytherins in Charms class. I can almost imagine it turning into a duel between both houses.”

“Maybe, but we won’t be able to avoid it for too long; we all have History of Magic tomorrow in our first lesson,” Padma muttered, finally joining the conversation.

Speaking of History of Magic, Dean had been surprised that a normal witch named Jacqueline Rowle taught it, instead of the infamous Binns, a ghost who had died yet still carried on teaching over a century prior.

He also remembered the complete absence of ghosts or Peeves in the castle, and he couldn’t help but ask, “I don’t know if it was a prank or something, but is it true that a ghost once taught this class. I think I heard someone say that in the common room. Do you think it’s true?”

Immediately, Dean realised that he had said something completely wrong, as everyone stopped completely, and stared at Harry with worry in their eyes. Harry was the one who groaned and spoke up, “Sometimes I forget you’re a muggleborn, Dean.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“No, don’t get me wrong. It’s just that you seem like you know a lot of things about our world, that I forgot that there are a few unwritten rules that you don’t know about. We don’t really like talking about ghosts.”

“Why?” Dean asked, feeling confused.

Lisa took a deep breath, “Ghosts don’t exactly happen by accident. Someone has to make them and kill the victim to do it. It sort of creates a copy of them that they could control and ask for secrets, a bit like a magical painting, but done unwillingly, and without being able to hide anything. It’s pretty dark magic and punishable by imprisonment in Azkaban, since, you know, you need to murder the victim to create one.”

“What about the ghosts themselves?” Dean asked, “What happens to them?”

“I don’t know. But Dad told me that there hasn’t been a ghost in Britain for over a hundred years. I think they were all dispelled or something,” Harry replied, “I think we study them in Defence class when we get older. I don’t really know more.”

Dean wasn’t really satisfied with the answer, even if he could understand the reason why it was a taboo subject. Seeing a mockery of your family, proof of their murder, and also a security nightmare, would be a bit of a nightmare. Even if the story that they were all purged sounded a bit too convenient.

Still, he didn't press further, though. Lisa looked uncomfortable, and even Harry was unusually quiet. It clearly wasn’t the kind of thing people liked talking about, especially not in the middle of a crowded hallway between classes.

So, he let it go. For now.

The group reached the Charms corridor soon after, the tension lifting slightly as they joined the rest of the first years already lining up near the classroom. It was their first practical lesson, and they were obviously excited for it. To be fair, Dean was as well. He had cast a few charms before, specifically the reducing charm on his painting of his mother, and it had been somewhat simple, as he followed the instructions in his schoolbook.

He was proven to be correct as the lesson progressed. Professor Flitwick, a Half-Goblin, was very good at teaching. Well, he was good at teaching children, and Dean barely qualified. He found himself bored as the man repeated the incantation for the hundredth time.

It immediately occurred to Dean why students preferred this class to McGonagall. Flitwick reduced instructions as much as possible, giving them their essence, while mostly talking about the effects of spells. In this case, they were taught one of the most important spells they knew, the general countercharm.

It was a simple wand movement; a soft flick of the wrist paired with a short incantation: “Finite”. That was it. No diagrams, no formulas, no strange alphabet written on the board. Just a clear instruction and a glowing smile from Professor Flitwick, who clapped his hands in delight every time someone got it right.

Still, despite the cheery tone and encouraging claps, Dean quickly realised that the lesson wasn’t as simple as it seemed. After they’d all practised on harmless charms, levitated feathers, glowing pebbles, colour-shifting cards, Flitwick clapped again, his tone still cheerful, “Excellent! Now that you’ve got the basics down, let’s raise the difficulty a little.”

With a wave of his wand, he conjured a set of objects on each table and gave them a mischievous smile, “Well, go on then. Dispel the charm.”

Dean and Harry stared at the boots, which seemed to be dancing around on their table, and saw that everyone kept trying to dispel their own charms, this time being quite unsuccessful about it. Shrugging, he did the same as them and received the same results.

After the third time, he stopped trying and narrowed his eyes. The more he stared at it, the more he felt a small pull towards the boots, much like he had his ring back in Diagon Alley. He tilted his head and stared at it, and felt himself mutter, “Finite!”

The right boot, the one he had focused on, just stopped dancing, and with it, the pull did as well. He still felt one from the left one, which was still intact.

Huh, that worked.

He blinked, momentarily surprised, but quickly masked it as he glanced around. Most of the other students were still struggling, their spells bouncing harmlessly off the animated objects. Flitwick didn’t say anything, but Dean caught the slight arch of his brow and the faintest twitch of a smile before he moved on to help a pair of Ravenclaws with a stubborn hissing book.

Harry gave him a surprised look, “How did you do that?”

“I just cast the spell,” Dean muttered, “I think I aimed it at the magic.”

“Aimed it at the magic?” the other replied, perplexed, “How can you aim a spell at a charm?”

“I don’t know. It just feels like I am. I think it has to do with my personal magic.”

The Potter boy’s eyes widened. “That makes sense. That’s not fair, mate.”

“Hey, you can fly. You’re not one to talk.”

The green-eyed boy grinned and continued trying to dispel his boot. Dean spent the rest of the lesson trying to help Harry, even if he had no idea what he was doing.

Finally, the lesson ended, and Flitwick clapped his hands once again, drawing the class’s attention with a few cheerful sparks from his wand.

“Excellent work, everyone! We’ll be continuing with countercharms for the next few sessions, so don’t worry if you didn’t get it today. For homework,” he said, pausing as a collective groan rolled through the classroom, “I’d like you to research charms that are resistant to being dispelled. Find three examples, and be ready to explain why they’re harder to counter. You’ll find them mentioned in ‘Standard Book of Spells, Grade One’, though more interesting examples may be in the library.”

As the students began packing up their bags, Flitwick added casually, “And Mr. Thomas, if you don’t mind staying behind for a moment?”

Dean froze, halfway through stuffing his wand into his robe. Around him, a few students gave knowing looks and snickered, and he immediately felt heat crawl up the back of his neck. Wonderful. First week of school, and he was already getting called out.

Harry gave him a pat on the back, “Come to the Great Hall after you’re finished here. I think Dinner is starting soon.”

He nodded as the other boy left, and stood stiffly at his desk as the last few students filed out, the door clicking shut behind them. Flitwick turned around from his own desk and looked up at him, expression still kind but more focused, “Now, Mr. Thomas, how long have you known that you were an enchanter?”

AN: Like I said above, this isn’t part of the weekly schedule. Tomorrow will be an AWM (EM Vol. 2) chapter, like you guys chose in the last poll.

As for this chapter, I know that this chapter is a bit short, but I’m a bit busy today, so I had to wrap things up a bit quickly. But things are finally moving on the plot side. You’ll see it more in the next chapter. As usual, I don’t mind rewriting this depending on your feedback, so please let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions.