Chapter 43: Transition
Warren neither accepted nor declined Dumbledore's offer. He suspected the old man was attempting to steer him in a particular direction. Dumbledore's track record in that regard was not particularly stellar. Even so, he did not want to miss the opportunity to get to know Newt. A well-traveled expert on magical creatures would be immensely helpful in broadening Warren's horizons.
In a way, Warren was also an expert on magical creatures. He was an expert on their materials, at least. He knew Graphorn hide, Erumpent fluid and horns, dragon blood, and Niffler pouches inside out. He simply had never seen the living animals.
As his research into magical extraction methods deepened, Warren sometimes wondered about the ingredients he harvested. What were they like while still part of a living creature? How did those specific properties develop? This led him to a profound, nearly dizzying question: how had the very first witch or wizard originated? Were magical creatures the source of all magic? If one were to dissect them and study their physical and magical structures, could the answer be seen with the naked eye?
Just thinking about it ignited a burning curiosity.
Back in the Slytherin common room, Warren excitedly recorded his observations and thoughts from the day in a journal. The scent of knowledge and truth was intoxicating. Surely Mr. Scamander would support his endeavors.
Far away in Dorset, Newt sneezed while preparing fruit for the unicorns in his basement. "How strange. Am I catching a cold?"
Tina said sourly, "Maybe Dumbledore is talking about you again."
It was unclear whether Newt was truly ill. However, the very next day, a sudden flu epidemic swept through Hogwarts. A steady stream of students with red eyes and runny noses lined up on the second floor. Drawing on experience from previous years, Madam Pomfrey had accurately predicted the situation and prepared a large cauldron of Pepperup Potion in advance.
The potion was highly effective against the flu. However, like all potions, the auxiliary ingredients required to balance its properties came with a minor side effect: it made your ears steam.
When Warren stepped into the Great Hall the next morning, he was met with an astounding sight. Hundreds of students' heads were billowing steam like boiling kettles, shrouding the four House tables in a thick white mist.
Fred and George were weaving through the crowd with glee, using their wands to shape the steam into various amusing figures. The professors at the staff table had not escaped the phenomenon either. Professor Flitwick let out a long, shrill whistle with every puff of steam jetting from his pointed ears.
"This is wonderful, Filius," Dumbledore exclaimed with delight. He downed a dose of Pepperup Potion himself before covering his mouth, attempting to mimic the sound.
Snape, seated between them, was the unfortunate soul. The billowing steam completely obscured his face. All Warren could see were his dark eyes, glaring at Dumbledore with murderous intensity.
At the Gryffindor table, Harry and Ron stole glances at Snape and snickered.
"Look, he wants to eat Dumbledore alive," Ron whispered. "Too bad the old git did not catch the flu himself."
Then he saw Warren sit down opposite him and point a finger. "Milo. Get Scabbers."
"Meow."
Milo, who had not had a toy in ages, leaped excitedly onto the table. Ron's face went pale as she pounced on him.
"Do not take Scabbers, you horrible cat! Help!"
Harry watched Ron screaming as Milo pinned him to the floor, scrabbling at his pocket. He was suddenly very glad he had only taken a sip of pumpkin juice and had not had time to insult Snape.
Hermione was steaming as well. Steam curled from her ears, mingling with her bushy hair until her head looked like a steamer basket. She clutched a heavy textbook and approached Warren for help with Transfiguration. The moment she received an answer, she immediately asked another question.
Warren had a greater aptitude for Transfiguration than Hermione did. He learned faster, especially with the extra tutoring from Professor McGonagall's club. Answering her questions was effortless for him. And as he had mentioned before, he had patience for pretty girls.
"A strong will is crucial when performing Transfiguration, Hermione. Indeed, for any spell, your emotions must be clear and sufficiently powerful. This does not mean you should abandon rational thought, as that would be counterproductive. What you need is a measured calm. Take turning a button into a beetle, for instance. It is vital to analyze the button's structure while simultaneously constructing the beetle's form in your mind. However, you must also maintain a strong, sustained intention to succeed. The stronger the intention, the easier the process becomes."
Warren shared his insights. Magic in this world was inherently illogical in that regard. Its foundation functioned much like wish fulfillment, akin to the words of power in the fantasy novels of his past life. Magic was not a cold, formulaic process. It was an expression of emotion. This explained why witches and wizards were such emotional beings. Even a mad Dark Wizard could cast spells successfully, as long as they were not devoid of emotion.
But Warren believed that everything in the world possessed an underlying logic. Even a seemingly chaotic surface had to be governed by some objective laws. The question was whether anyone would discover it. This was another research topic he had assigned himself years ago, alongside Potions. It involved the nature and laws of magic itself.
Of course, that subject was a bit too grand and distant for the time being.
Hermione, naturally, remained oblivious to Warren's hidden ambitions. Her mind was entirely consumed by the looming threat of exams. Once she finished her questions, she clutched her textbook tightly and gazed at Warren hopefully. "Exams are just around the corner, and there are still areas where I feel completely unprepared. Warren, would you mind if we studied together?"
Before Warren could even open his mouth to reply, Harry, who had been biding his time, blurted out, "Exams? But are they not ages away?"
Hermione glared at him. "Ages away? We have been at school for weeks already. If you take out the weekends and factor in sleep, how much actual study time is left?"
Her rapid-fire delivery left Harry dazed. His previously relaxed sense of time suddenly felt crushed by urgency. It seemed as though wasting even a single minute might cost him years off his life. He was still reeling by the time he finished breakfast and returned to the Gryffindor common room with Ron.
Ron, looking disheveled, locked Scabbers in his cage and watched the rat tremble. "That horrible Warren. That horrible Milo. Scabbers has lost even more fur from fright. They are going to be the death of my poor little guy one day."
Then Ron realized with dismay that he was not even that angry anymore. It was as if he were getting used to the bullying he and Scabbers endured.
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