Chapter 13: Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration

"Read less, sleep more."

Cohen looked at Hermione's two dark circles under her eyes and immediately knew that this young girl had done all her homework to avoid falling behind in the first lesson.

"It's called magic, after all, there's really no need to be so serious..."

Cohen spoke the truth. He himself hadn't delved into those theoretical models. There were two indescribable things in the world that drove people progressively mad the more they studied them—Cthulhu and mathematics.

"But Transfiguration has very standardized formulas and theories—" Hermione still insisted on her point.

"Miss Granger, what we study is magic."

Cohen was planning to ask Professor McGonagall about the question of Transfiguration involving living creatures, and honestly, he had no clever tricks to help Hermione. Magic was primarily a power of the mind; the foremost condition for a spell’s success was that the wizard believed the magic would work.

As for the complex theoretical parts—most wizards probably wouldn’t spend much time on them even by the time they graduated, unless they hoped to create or improve spells.

That’s why Hogwarts would always be crowded with little witches and wizards scrambling to memorize their lessons during exam weeks.

"To successfully cast a spell, you must first believe that it can be successfully cast."

"But if it has never succeeded before, how can you believe it will work?" Hermione still felt Cohen’s explanation was a brush-off.

"Cohen, class is over. Let’s hurry back to the common room—I brought Wizard’s Chess, and the three of us can take turns playing." Ron noticed Cohen hadn’t packed his books yet and urged him, "You've explained enough already—"

Ron’s words were obviously aimed at Hermione, for as soon as he said that, her cheeks flushed as red as two apples.

"You two go ahead. I have a question to ask Professor McGonagall," Cohen told Harry and Ron honestly.

Seeing Cohen had something to attend to, the two had no choice but to head back to the dormitory together.

First-year classes weren’t many; after this morning’s Transfiguration lesson, they only had Herbology before dinner.

Edward was right—Hogwarts was almost like learning through play, especially since magic didn’t require too much time investment if a young wizard’s goal was merely to pass the final exams.

"Are you really going to ask Professor McGonagall a question?" Hermione asked suspiciously, her cheeks reddening further.

"Are you planning to laugh at me with your friends—"

"Why would I laugh at you?" Cohen raised his eyebrows. "Laugh at you for being ahead of 99% of the class in Transfiguration? That troll must be the proudest creature in the world, since it’s hopeless when it comes to knowledge."

Hermione burst out laughing at Cohen’s teasing but quickly regained her composure.

"So, what question do you plan to ask Professor McGonagall?"

"About whether the target of Transfiguration is considered dead or alive after turning a lifeless object into a living one." Cohen stuffed his textbook into his bag and stood up. "Aren’t you curious?"

"I am. I want to come too," Hermione said, unwilling to be left behind.

By Cohen’s current observation and prediction, this was typically the moment when he and Hermione would begin a romantic marathon of rivalry and tender quarrels starting from their first year.

Unfortunately, he was a Dementor—an emotionless, kind-hearted, and awkward creature—harboring no feelings toward humans or little girls.

Moreover, Cohen was certain that if his true identity were revealed to Hermione, she would keep her distance—just as she did when she first discovered Lupin was a werewolf.

In fact, Dementors were even less welcomed than werewolves, who transformed only one night a month, while Dementors only appeared as humans in fairy tales—or possibly not even in any tales at all.

*Knock, knock, knock—*

Professor McGonagall’s office was a small study along the second-floor corridor. Cohen and Hermione knocked on the wooden door.

"Come in."

Professor McGonagall’s voice was softer than during class but still carried an official tone.

Inside, a roaring fireplace crackled with sparks dancing upon the logs.

Outside the window stood the Quidditch pitch, which McGonagall had always been fond of.

"Mr. Norton, Miss Granger."

Professor McGonagall was preparing her next lesson plan. She looked up and saw the two top-performing students from class, assuming they must have encountered some academic difficulty. The usually stern lines of her mouth softened into a smile.

"Is there a problem with your studies? I’m happy to help eager young witches and wizards with any questions."

"Professor, in class just now, I saw you transform a desk into a living thing." Cohen modified his question slightly, omitting the “soul” aspect—after all, since McGonagall had discussed Cohen’s origins with Dumbledore, it was best not to reveal too much curiosity about souls so early.

"Turning inanimate objects into living creatures is knowledge for third years only, and limited to small-scale biological transformations. Transfiguration is dangerous and complex; I don’t want you attempting such things prematurely—it’s very risky," McGonagall said sternly, thinking Cohen wanted to learn how to turn a lectern into a pig. "Even if you succeed in your first attempt, don’t aim too high, Mr. Norton."

"My question isn’t about that, Professor McGonagall," Cohen corrected her. "I’m not eager to try advanced spells. I was just wondering, after transforming a lifeless object into a living one, can it be said to have life? Or is the target ‘alive’ during the transformation?"

Hermione listened intently to the exchange, even pulling out parchment and a quill to jot down the question and answer.

"Having your own thoughts without reckless experimentation is a good thing," McGonagall affirmed Cohen’s thirst for knowledge. "This question actually has a standard answer, though it’s not in your 'Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration.'"

"Transfiguration can achieve magical conversion between various substances but follows a fundamental set of rules—the 'Gamp’s Law of Transfiguration.' Mr. Cohen, your question touches on one of the five exceptions in Gamp’s Law."

"Living things and dead things cannot be permanently transformed into each other by Transfiguration."

McGonagall saw that both students were listening carefully and continued with a pleased expression.

"For example, we can turn a button into a beetle or a lectern into a pig, but they cannot remain active forever. Once the magic fades, they revert to their original form."

"Even if those transformed ‘creatures’ seem alive, their essence remains lifeless objects. It is the wizard’s magic that composes their ‘life.’"

So… the “soul intensity” Cohen saw in the transformed lectern was actually McGonagall’s magic?

If he absorbed that magic-composed “soul”…

Could it increase his soul’s completeness?