Chapter 14: Hoffa’s Talent  

Being subtly targeted by her, Hoffa's expression turned sour. He picked up his wand and gently tapped the small piece of wood in front of him. In his mind, he envisioned a wooden sword. 

Magic flowed from the wand, and Hoffa channeled his focus into the wood with his mental energy. 

Suddenly, he felt something extraordinary—it was as if he had grasped a piece of clay out of thin air. 

Under the influence of magic, the wood seemed to become highly malleable. 

So that's it. Purpose and structure, huh? 

Hoffa understood. He closed his eyes directly. 

In his mind, he visualized a sharp, gleaming blade. 

The wood began to elongate and flatten under Hoffa's mental control. 

As the transformation progressed, Hoffa frowned. 

No, the details weren't enough. Just the blade alone couldn't be called a sword. 

So he started carefully imagining the shape of the hilt and the guard. 

Above the table, the small wooden sword began to take shape. At first, it was just a rough form, but gradually, intricate patterns appeared on the hilt. 

Miranda whispered a word of praise, while Aglaia muttered disdainfully, "Not bad…" 

After completing the carving, Hoffa opened his eyes and looked at the small sword in front of him, but he didn't seem particularly pleased. 

Miranda exclaimed, "You did it! That's amazing!" 

Hoffa shook his head and closed his eyes again. He felt something was still off. 

After all, he wanted to become an Animagus. Turning a piece of wood into a wooden sword was far from enough! 

Think about it—what's the difference between this and molding a sword out of clay? The wooden sword was still just wood, with no real change. 

This wasn't magical at all. 

Essence, transformation, purpose. 

The keywords Dumbledore had mentioned swirled in Hoffa's mind. 

No, a sword should be made of metal. Its purpose should be to kill, while a wooden sword could only be a toy. 

So Hoffa concentrated his mind, fully immersing himself in the wooden sword, trying to sense more details. 

But it didn't work. His mind could feel every fiber of the wood, but he still couldn't grasp its essence. 

Let alone change it. 

Was his mental energy insufficient? 

Hoffa frowned. Suddenly, he thought of Milarepa's meditation technique. 

Meditation could enhance mental energy. 

Hoffa opened his eyes and glanced around. Everyone was struggling to transform their pieces of wood. 

No one was paying attention to him in the corner. 

He emptied his mind, closed his eyes, and entered a meditative state. 

At this moment, his mental energy expanded exponentially under the influence of meditation. If he wanted, he could sense the entire classroom without using his eyes. 

But Hoffa didn't. He focused all his mental energy on the wooden sword, delving into the essence of the wood. 

His powerful mind, like a spider's web, slowly penetrated the sword, passing through fibers, cells, and nuclei, until it reached the essence of the organic matter. 

It was as if a thunderous roar echoed in his mind. 

The black-and-white world suddenly burst into color. He felt as if he had entered another dimension. 

Countless tiny particles swirled and transformed around him, endless colors mixing and dispersing before his eyes. 

Magic carried Hoffa through a completely unknown world, a new realm of Transfiguration opening up before him. He felt joy. 

He felt a sense of almost omnipotent control! 

Yes, this was it! 

… 

In the real world, the wooden sword in front of Hoffa suddenly exploded into dust, completely dissipating into the air. 

Miranda's expression turned slightly serious. 

Aglaia, on the other hand, smirked with satisfaction. She thought to herself, "This idiot just made the sword disappear!" 

In the classroom, Dumbledore, who had been correcting students' mistakes at the podium, suddenly turned his head toward the corner. 

A powerful surge of mental energy had appeared in the classroom! 

On the other side of the classroom, Tom Riddle frowned. He sensed something. 

Dumbledore put down what he was doing and quickly walked over to the corner. 

All eyes followed him. 

When he reached the corner, Dumbledore saw Hoffa with his eyes closed. 

The next second, Hoffa raised his wand. 

In the air, glimmers of metallic light began to appear. 

To everyone's astonishment, the metallic light quickly arranged itself into a blade, a guard, and a hilt. 

Dumbledore's blue eyes widened in shock. 

The gleaming blade made it clear that this was a metal sword, not a wooden one. 

Miranda's jaw dropped in disbelief. 

Aglaia turned pale and abruptly stood up, pressing her hands on the table. 

The other students turned their heads, watching this miraculous scene unfold. 

They had no idea what was happening, only seeing a metal sword materialize out of thin air. 

But Dumbledore knew. The boy before him had actually altered the essence of the object! 

When the transformation was complete, Hoffa opened his eyes, pale but filled with joy. He grabbed the sharp little sword in front of him. 

He had done it! 

He had used Transfiguration to change the essence of an object. This was real magic! 

Dumbledore began to applaud sincerely, and soon, the other students joined in. 

They didn't know why, but it felt impressive. 

Tom Marvolo Riddle stood up, frowning as he looked toward the Ravenclaw table, muttering in disbelief, "Hoffa…!?" 

Hoffa, still沉浸在 transformation, was startled by the applause. He looked up and realized he was surrounded by people. 

They were all clapping in awe. 

What's going on? Isn't this just basic stuff? 

Without hesitation, Dumbledore pulled Hoffa to his feet, looking at him as if he were a rare treasure. 

Then, he took the small sword Hoffa had created, held it high, and said in an admiring tone, "Exceeding expectations, exceeding expectations, Hoffa! 

"Look at this! I've never seen a first-year student achieve something like this. 

"Outstanding! The last person who could perform such a transformation was Nicolas Flamel over 500 years ago. 

"Fifty points to Ravenclaw." 

He was so thrilled that he didn't even bother to carefully examine the other students' work. 

This infuriated Aglaia, who stormed out of the classroom after the lesson and threw her wooden tree sculpture into the trash. 

After class, Hoffa also wanted to leave, but Dumbledore stopped him. 

"Wait a moment, Hoffa." 

Hoffa stood still as the crowd passed by him. Ravenclaw students excitedly patted his shoulders, offering words of encouragement. 

But Hoffa noticed Tom Riddle walking past him with a dark expression. As they brushed past each other, he heard a barely audible whisper. 

"Not bad, Hoffa." 

After everyone left, Dumbledore pointed to a table in front of him. Hoffa sat down, puzzled. 

Dumbledore looked at the earring on Hoffa's ear and smiled, "It seems you get along well with goblins." 

Thinking of Indor, Hoffa could only scratch his head, "It's alright. I just can't take it off." 

"Why would you want to? It's a gift from a friend." 

As he spoke, Dumbledore pulled up a chair and sat down. He interlaced his fingers, his expression turning serious. 

"What you just did was very dangerous, you know?" 

Hoffa's heart skipped a beat, not understanding. 

Dumbledore handed the sword back to Hoffa and said sternly, "Can you turn it back into wood?" 

Hoffa focused on the sword for a moment, then turned pale. He understood why Dumbledore had kept him behind. 

He knew the structure of metal atoms, but he didn't know the structure of wood. He couldn't change it back. 

Dumbledore crossed his arms and said softly, "Caution, Hoffa, caution. 

"I've seen too many talented but reckless Transfigurists. 

"You have an incredibly powerful mental gift, but you must remember—change the structure, not the essence. The thrill and impulse of transformation can easily lead you astray. 

"In my opinion, you've just performed an irreversible transformation. If the object you transformed wasn't a piece of wood, but yourself, you would have been completely lost." 

Hoffa looked into Dumbledore's sharp blue eyes, unsure of what to say. 

Dumbledore stood up and tapped the metal sword with his wand. 

The sword slowly turned back into a small block of wood. 

"Remember, a true Transfigurist must not only turn stone into gold but also gold into stone." 

Dumbledore's words left Hoffa shaken for a long time. When he finally left the classroom, his back was still damp with cold sweat. 

Indeed, at the moment he completed the transformation, he had almost been overwhelmed by joy. 

For a moment, he even felt that becoming an Animagus was within reach. 

But now, he realized that his journey in Transfiguration was still a long one. 

The other students didn't know about Dumbledore's warning to Hoffa. They were all buzzing about how Ravenclaw had produced a student skilled in Transfiguration. 

The Ravenclaw students treated Hoffa like a hero. Although Professor Goshawk had deducted seventy points from them, Dumbledore had added fifty, so it more or less balanced out. 

But unlike the others, Aglaia's attitude toward Hoffa became increasingly hostile. 

No matter when or where, she only gave Hoffa a sour face. 

During their Herbology class on Tuesday, she deliberately replaced the fungus Hoffa was tending to with a pitcher plant, hoping to embarrass him. Fortunately, Professor Herbert Beery, the head of Hufflepuff, intervened in time, or Hoffa might have had his nose ripped off by the terrifying plant. 

During their Astronomy class on Wednesday, she openly mocked Hoffa for confusing Ganymede and Europa. 

Hoffa figured this girl had probably never faced setbacks before, and now that she had, she was taking it out on him. But the more she acted this way, the less Hoffa paid attention to her. 

He treated her like a clown. 

During the day, he attended classes, and at night, he meditated in the gentle breeze of the common room. 

If he had some free time, he would go to the library to search for information on the Disillusionment Charm. 

But unfortunately, the areas accessible to lower-year students in the library were quite limited. Those sections only contained basic theoretical books, with no specific spellbooks. 

Without finding a way to become invisible, he couldn't explore Hogwarts freely. 

But Hoffa wasn't in a hurry. After all, he had plenty of time. 

If it weren't for Aglaia constantly annoying him, he would have found life at Hogwarts nearly perfect. 

This peace lasted until Thursday. 

On Thursday, they had a Flying class. 

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(Note: The last sentence seems to be a call for readers to add the story to their favorites, which is unrelated to the chapter content. I've left it as is.)