CH52 - Guinea Pig

Readjustment into regular life after the nexum aeternum had been difficult for Edmund. For everyone else, the next day was just like any other. For him, it could not be more different.

Despite only being in his life for less than a year, magic had become ingrained in every single thing that Edmund did. With his power sent into overdrive, he quickly realized how dependent he had become on the energy.

The Tempus was undoubtedly his most used charm. Other than the clock tower in Hogwarts, there were almost no other timepieces present anywhere. And why should there be? The Tempus was one of the easiest charms to learn, and every witch and wizard found it hard to be parted from their wand for even a second. Although Edmund kept his wand under his pillow because of his paranoia, he was by no means the only one who felt comforted and secure with his magical focus close to him.

However, Tempus was not really a spell that could be overpowered. It was a very simple charm with only one set purpose. Providing more energy than necessary did nothing but make the excess dissipate.

No, Edmund's true bane was the levitation charm, Wingardium Leviosa. Lifting his bookbag sent into flying into the ceiling. Trying to make his pillows hover had them careening into the walls.

There was no getting around it.

Edmund had resorted to using specific charms for tasks, but even that had its problems. Implementing the bed-making household charm caused his sheets to be pulled so tight that they ripped. Making his textbooks lighter with a featherweight charm made them almost anti-gravitational, floating through the air aimlessly.

His troubles were not limited to his magic not responding the way it ought to.

Every piece of magic he performed now left an imprint of him on the object that was targeted. The things he touched seemed to fizzle and flow with power. The metallic gardening tools he used in Herbology had even become electrically charged, shocking him harshly.

That was not to mention the effects on Edmund himself. With the way his hair flowed in a nonexistent wind, and his aura bore down on his surroundings, it seemed like Edmund had taken a deep dive into Gilderoy Lockhart's book about self-care charms.

To avoid giving an embarrassing, evasive answer to any questions about his condition, Edmund had decided to pretend to be sick for several days instead. The fuzzy hat he wore on his head made him sweat relentlessly, but it was better than being teased for his sudden interest in his looks.

Thankfully, by the time the students had returned from Easter Break, he had gotten a fairly good hold on his magic. At least enough that he could pretend to be normal well enough.

The credit for that lay mainly in Marvolo's hands. Although the dark lord had never experienced such a power jump in a singular instant, the rituals he had partaken in had made him suffer similarly enough to Edmund. He had been quick to recommend certain routines that would drain him of his magic, letting Edmund gain insight into how to manage it more efficiently.

However, maybe he ought to have pretended to be sick for a while longer. While he may have put his deal with McGonagall to the back of his mind, the professor most certainly had not...

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- (Scene Break) -

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On the first day of term, McGonagall marched into his charms class before it could begin, personally handing him a sealed letter.

Instead of the parchment that most magicals preferred, the paper was distinctively muggle. Flipping it open, Edmund's smile grew.

'Success!' he thought excitedly.

The form before him was none other than signed permission from the orphanage's matron to leave for the summer, just as McGonagall had promised.

Edmund handed the letter over to his friends who clapped him on the back in congratulation, before turning to the stern professor.

"Thanks, profess..." he trailed off, noticing the gleam in the older woman's eyes.

"You may thank me, Mr. Cole, by coming with me to my seventh-year Transfiguration class, as you so graciously volunteered to do so," she demanded.

Edmund whirled to where Flitwick was standing atop his desk, looking for support.

"No need to ask for permission, Mr. Cole," McGonagall said dismissively, "I have already cleared the matter with Professor Flitwick."

As McGonagall grabbed him by the back of the collar of his robes, Edmund gave the Charms teacher a betrayed glance. The half-goblin only grinned, waving back jovially as Edmund was dragged out of the room.

"My teachers are conspiring together against me..." he muttered, to which McGonagall snorted in response.

Flinging open the door to her room, the Transfiguration professor finally released him, gaining him bewildered eyes from the rest of the already full class. Still, the room remained silent, a telltale sign of the students' wariness of irritating their teacher.

Glaring at McGonagall, Edmund straightened his clothes, standing as confidently as he could. Flicking his gaze over the occupants of the room, he realized that several were recognizable to him. The class was jointly attended by Gryffindor and Slytherin house, which explained why there was such a significant gap in the aisle between the sea of red and green robes.

On the left-hand side, a bright redhead could be none other than Percy Weasley. With the head-boy badge pinned prominently to his robes, and the usual disapproving face he wore, it was hard to mistake him for anyone else.

Another boy with an emblem, a 'Q,' was undoubtedly Oliver Wood. With his short black hair, angular jaw, and athletic physique, most would believe that Wood would be popular with the opposite sex. However, his predisposition to talk about nothing other than Quidditch had driven away even the strongest of his admirers.

On the other side, another black-haired boy with the worst dental structure that Edmund had ever seen was Marcus Flint. He was sitting in the far back corner, obviously trying to stay as far away from McGonagall's eyes as possible.

The center of the room was not as empty as it usually was either. The space had been filled with objects of a strange variety. A large wooden plank was leaning against one wall, and a transparent glass pool of water had been constructed at the very front.

"Welcome back to Transfiguration, students," McGonagall began. "Together, we have covered almost all the basic principles of Transfiguration over the past seven years. However, Hogwarts prides itself in our curriculum, and as such, we like to push you beyond what is expected. For the last few months of your schooling, this will mean a brief introduction to human transfiguration."

The class broke into murmurs at that, some scared and others enthusiastic.

"Now!" McGonagall cut in. "To demonstrate the complexities and the dangers of what this magic can achieve, we have with us today Mr. Cole from Year 1."

Edmund saluted halfheartedly as everyone's eyes turned to him.

"First, let us begin with the alteration of the human form itself," McGonagall beckoned Edmund to stand in the very center.

"Changing the length and colour of the hair and nails is the easiest to practice and reverse if something goes wrong. Since these structures are built from keratin, cutting them off is an easy medical solution should worst come to worst," she explained.

As she spoke, Edmund's hair cycled from long to short, curly to wavy, and turned into all the colours of the rainbow. He could feel the foreign magic coursing through him, and it was an exercise in willpower not to instinctively banish it from his body.

"Many practitioners immediately jump to changes in other parts of the human form. The lure of altering one's height or proportions may be strong, but I cannot emphasize enough how dangerous this is," McGonagall said sternly. "To complete such a process, the caster needs to visualize the growth of the internals just as much as the externals. Nerves, blood vessels, bones, and everything else needs to be lengthened. Otherwise, the risk of mutilation will always be present."

Her enraptured audience gulped at that as Edmund felt his height shooting up and shrinking down one after the other.

"Next, we move onto non-human additions to the body," McGonagall continued once she felt the message had sunk in. "Again, the same principles apply. Changes to the nails and hair are the best to start with."

Edmund's fingers began to grow bear claws, elongating his hands. At the professor's cue, he walked over to the plank on the side and scratched it casually. Wood splintered and cracked as his new extensions carved through the material like butter.

Edmund looked at his hands in wonder. 'Don't scratch your head now, Edmund.'

His danger sense alerted him to a spell coming at him, but at this point, he had accepted his fate. Without further warning, Edmund was lowered into the water tank, completely submerging him. Before air supply could become an issue, he felt his neck changing, growing new parts. Air entered his bloodstream even without going through his trachea. The sensation felt wrong, but breathing so easily underwater was a refreshing experience.

Although muffled, he could still hear McGonagall lecturing about the hazards of transfiguring the body's vital organs. Long after he thought she should be done, her talk continued, leaving him suspended in the water on display.

Sick of waiting, Edmund activated an ability he seldom used in populated areas due to the disorientation it brought him. His emotion sense snapped into being, and he expertly navigated it to focus on the Transfiguration professor.

Much of McGonagall's mind was dedicated to her lesson, but a small section of it was revelling in his misery, amused at his floundering. As he 'watched,' her mind lit up with a new idea, and vindictiveness bled into her thoughts.

Sopping wet, Edmund was brought out of the tank at the same time that his gills were untransfigured. With the flick of a wand, he was forcibly dried, leaving his hair a spiky mess.

"Last but not least, the entire body can also be turned into another animal, which is the ultimate goal of human transfiguration," she concluded.

Edmund felt his eyeline drop to the floor, his hands and feet turning into paws. His eyes became bigger yet weaker, while his ears became long and floppy. His nose was made even more sensitive, a small nub at the end of his pointy face. A bony tail grew from his bottom, furry and soft.

With a plop, he was placed on a desk in the middle of the class. As he turned around in circles to see what he had become, Edmund was filled with dread. Rather than make him something ugly, McGonagall had opted for the opposite. For in place of Edmund now stood a cute dachshund puppy with tiny legs and a hotdog-shaped body.

He tried to voice his anger, but all that escaped his lips was an adorable micro bark.

The girls rushed to the front, sounds of "awww" coming from them as they gathered him up in their arms and pet him furiously.

'No!'

'Stop that!'

'You can't touch there! I'll report you to HR!'

He could see McGonagall smirking from the corner of his eyes, a satisfied look adorning her.

'I will have my revenge… Just you wait…' Edmund thought darkly.

But for now…

'Ahhh.'

'That's actually kinda nice.'

'Right there.'

'Don't neglect the belly! Scratch it!'