Chapter 11: Marfario and the New Books

Chapter 11: Marfario and the New Books

"Yaaawn—"

Early the next morning, at the Hufflepuff table, Maca yawned widely as he drowsily stuffed plain slices of bread into his mouth—he even forgot to spread jam on them. His school robe was draped over him in a sloppy, lopsided way, clearly thrown on in a hurry. The disheveled look was quite a departure from his usual tidy style.

"Hey, junior—what's got you so sleepy? Didn't sleep well last night?" asked Charlotte, the ever-casual upperclassman, who never seemed to care about how others dressed—though she herself always looked stylish and well put-together.

"Yeah... not really," Maca replied with a sluggish nod, his eyelids drooping like he could fall asleep right there.

"Thinking about some girl, huh?" Charlotte teased.

"Yeah... you," Maca answered instinctively, stifling another yawn.

Charlotte blinked, clearly not expecting this half-asleep kid to dish out a comeback so quickly. Her face shifted into a "You win this time" expression.

"Alright, wake up already! Class is starting soon," she said, winding up and smacking him hard on the back.

Maca jolted so violently that the piece of bread in his mouth flew onto the table.

"Seriously, did you have to hit that hard?" he groaned, rubbing his back. He was sure there'd be a bright red handprint there.

Just then, the owls arrived.

Maca looked up to see a flurry of owls swooping into the hall, dropping packages and letters onto students' laps.

"Now that I think about it," Maca muttered, slapping his thigh in sudden realization, "Marfa's been doing nothing but eating and sleeping in the dorm. She won't even go to the owlery! Why'd I even buy her? I should give it something to do…"

As he was scheming ways to get his owl to do some actual work, a shadow swept through the entrance of the hall, startling the other owls into scattering.

"Huh?" Maca looked up just in time to see his own owl, Marfario, dive-bombing toward him like a warplane. She dropped a large package onto the floor behind him with a loud thud.

"Coo," Marfario hooted lazily as she landed on the table and began pecking at the other slice of bread on Maca's plate.

"That's your owl?" Charlotte asked curiously, eyeing Marfario. "It looks strong! I want one like that—where'd you get her?"

"Knockturn Alley. A shop called 'The Giant Spider,'" Maca answered distractedly, pulling a receipt from the package. "Oh, my books from Flourish and Blotts have arrived."

A few days before the term started, Maca had placed a special order at Flourish and Blotts—books on potion-making and herbology. Technically, all of these could be found in the library, but library books didn't allow for scribbling notes and diagrams all over them.

Charlotte peeked at the list and gawked. "Are you trying to finish the entire Hogwarts curriculum in your first year?"

Maca rolled his eyes and tucked the receipt back under the package. "Not a chance." He hefted the bundle and headed for the common room—he needed to drop these off in his dorm before class started.

As he passed the Gryffindor table, Harry called out to him.

"Hey, Maca! Hagrid invited me over for tea. Wanna come along?" He waved a note in his hand.

"When?" Maca asked.

"This afternoon, around three," Harry replied.

"I've got class later. Tell Hagrid I said hi—I'll go see him another time."

Harry nodded and jotted something down on the back of the note before sending it off with Hedwig.

That morning, Hufflepuff had their very first Transfiguration class.

The teacher was Professor Minerva McGonagall, known for being just as strict as Professor Snape. But unlike Snape, she treated all four houses equally and never hesitated to discipline rule-breakers.

Most students feared her steely demeanor—but it was a fear laced with genuine respect. Many admired her from the bottom of their hearts.

McGonagall's teaching style was as sharp and efficient as her personality. Class had barely started before she laid down the law:

"Transfiguration is one of the most complex and dangerous branches of magic you'll learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone who fools around in my class will be sent out and barred from returning. I say this to every new batch of first-years—consider it a warning."

Then, with a flick of her wand, she transformed her desk into a majestic stag—and back again.

The display left most students spellbound. It was certainly effective. For Maca, who had already read about Transfiguration in A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration, it was all the more awe-inspiring.

So far, Maca had read through several of the school's required textbooks, and among them, he found Transfiguration to be the most difficult subject by far.

Its challenge didn't just lie in understanding magical theory—that was just the starting point. The real difficulty came from grasping the nature of the objects being transformed.

To perform Transfiguration well, a wizard must deeply understand both the physical and magical properties of an object. It was an intricate and profound art, one that seemed to have no end to its mastery.

For example, a novice wizard might be able to transfigure a matchstick into a similarly sized sewing needle; a master of Transfiguration, on the other hand, could turn that same matchstick into items of various shapes, materials, and textures—and even maintain the transformation for over a hundred years!

Of course, aside from differences in precision and magical energy consumption, the biggest distinction lies in understanding.

Transfiguration is a subject that demands long-term study and dedication, and Maca had discovered that there were absolutely no shortcuts. Mastery could only be achieved through daily learning and accumulated practice.

In class, Maca transformed the feather he'd been assigned into a small lump of metal. He still struggled with controlling the object's form, but Professor McGonagall gave him a nod of approval nonetheless—after all, for a beginner, achieving a change in substance was already an impressive feat.

That afternoon, however, brought the dreaded History of Magic class—a guaranteed yawn-fest. Professor Binns, with his dull and monotonous voice, droned on about major historical events of the wizarding world in his usual spiritless fashion. His complete lack of emotion made it hard for almost any student to stay interested.

But Maca found himself listening intently. He had noticed that Binns' lectures, contrary to popular belief, weren't just copied from textbooks—they were actually well-structured and, at times, included facts that weren't even mentioned in the school materials. It seemed that the only ghostly professor of Hogwarts prepared each night for his classes with care.

Then again, maybe that was because ghosts didn't need to sleep. Without anything to occupy his time, Binns would probably get bored enough to want to die all over again.

"I heard Professor Binns was already teaching History of Magic back when he was alive," Ernie whispered, seated beside Maca. "Then one day, he just walked into class and forgot to bring his body with him."

"As you said," Maca nodded, "not only did he dedicate the latter half of his life to teaching, but he's continued to do so even after death. That level of commitment is remarkable."

"Huh… When you put it that way, it really is," Ernie murmured, straightening up to listen more seriously. But it wasn't long before he slumped back down—this class was just too dry.

While most students found the subject mind-numbingly dull, Maca felt like time passed in the blink of an eye.

"Maca, where are you going? Not coming to the common room to play some wizard chess?" Ernie asked curiously.

The History of Magic classroom was on the second floor, and the Hufflepuffs were heading downstairs in clusters, exchanging gossip and jokes. But Maca had taken a different route, climbing the stairs instead.

"Oh, I need to stop by the library—there's some research I need to do," he called back without slowing down, disappearing around the bend of a moving staircase.

The Hogwarts library, located on the fifth floor of the castle, was a vast and towering space filled with an overwhelming number of books.

Here, you could find nearly every magical text ever published—whether still in circulation or long out of print. Of course, a large portion of the library was the infamous "Restricted Section," which required a signed note from the Headmaster or a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor to access.

The library was overseen by Madam Pince—a thin, elderly, and irritable woman who looked like a starving vulture with a temper to match.

To her, the books were sacred treasures. Any student who dared deface, damage, or even mishandle them was swiftly expelled from the library. In Madam Pince's mind, the books were hers and hers alone. If it were up to her, no one else would even be allowed in.

It was still shortly after class, so the library remained mostly empty, save for a few first-years from Gryffindor, whose afternoon schedules were free.

"…Magical creatures… magical creatures… there it is!" Maca murmured, standing on tiptoe as he pulled a book titled The Habits and Habitats of Humanoid Magical Creatures from a high shelf. Without even sitting down, he opened it and began flipping through the pages right then and there.