Succubus System At Hogwarts

Ian's confident and casual demeanor left Draco dumbfounded.

Draco instinctively wanted to call Ian back, but he remembered Ian's earlier words and swallowed his protest.

Forget it. Ian said he doesn't care about gossip, so why should I try to stop him?

Cassandra shot a cold glance toward the Gryffindor section but said nothing, mindful of the professor's presence.

Under everyone's watchful eyes, Ian calmly sat next to Hermione and began passing notes with her.

Ian thought to himself: This is a skill every good student from my homeland knows.

The first note read: "Hermione~ the cutest and most beautiful Hermione."

Hermione took the note, and upon seeing the elegant handwriting, her cheeks flushed slightly. She glanced at the tabby cat on the podium to make sure it wasn't paying attention before picking up her quill to reply.

"Why are you sitting here? Shouldn't you be over at the Slytherin section?"

Reading her reply, Ian smiled and wrote back: "Because I want to sit with Hermione. I don't want to be apart from you."

Seeing the message, Hermione's face turned even redder. She instinctively glanced around and, seeing that no one seemed to notice, let out a small breath of relief.

Despite her embarrassment, a warm sweetness bloomed in her heart.

But then, the thought of Ian being close to another girl stirred a pang of jealousy. She hesitated before writing: "You seem to have a good relationship with that blonde girl in Slytherin?"

Ian looked at the note and immediately realized Hermione was talking about Cassandra.

Ian picked up his quill and quickly wrote: "Oh, you mean Cassandra? She and I are the first-year prefects, so we get along well."

"Prefects?" Hermione immediately scribbled back. "I thought only fifth- to seventh-year students could be prefects?"

"Slytherin is special," Ian explained in his note. "Each year has two hidden prefects, one boy and one girl. But this position is only valid within Slytherin—it's not officially recognized by the school."

Hermione nodded in understanding and wrote: "I see. That's why you call her by her first name."

Reading Hermione's reply, Ian chuckled and was about to write more when the classroom door was suddenly flung open.

Harry and Ron burst in, panting heavily.

"Whew! At least McGonagall isn't here yet. If she saw us late, her old face would be terrifying," Ron said to Harry as they walked toward the Gryffindor section.

Harry nodded in agreement.

The two hurriedly made their way to the front of the room, and as they neared the podium, they immediately spotted Ian sitting among the Gryffindors.

Seeing Ian, dressed in robes with clear green Slytherin markings, seated amidst a group of Gryffindor lions, both Harry and Ron froze.

"Ian?" they both exclaimed in unison.

Ian swallowed hard and forced an awkward yet polite smile as he waved at them.

Brother! My dear brother! Don't call my name so loudly! Do you realize you're exposing me right now?

"Ian, are you doing okay in Slytherin? I've been really worried about you," Harry asked anxiously.

Before Ian could respond, the tabby cat on the podium suddenly transformed into a stern-looking witch dressed in green robes with square-shaped glasses—Professor McGonagall.

Ron stared dumbfounded at the now-revealed Professor McGonagall and blurted out, "Cool! Nice trick!"

"Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Weasley," Professor McGonagall said politely, giving a small nod. "However, perhaps I should consider turning one of you into a pocket watch. That way, the other might finally learn to be on time."

"Professor, we got lost," Harry quickly tried to explain.

"Then perhaps I should turn you into a map. But surely finding your seat doesn't require one," McGonagall retorted sharply, leaving no room for argument.

Harry and Ron immediately wilted under her stern gaze and scurried to the empty seats beside Ian.

Ian took the opportunity to shoot Harry a reassuring look, signaling that he was fine and that they could talk after class.

As Ian settled back into his seat, he noticed that McGonagall's stern expression had softened, and she was now looking at him with a hint of curiosity.

"Mr. Potter, would you care to explain how you knew that the tabby cat was my Animagus form?"

Ian stood up and gave a slight bow before answering, "Professor, I read about Animagi in a book on Transfiguration before coming to Hogwarts."

"I know that you are one of the seven Animagi registered with the Ministry of Magic in this century, and that your registered Animagus form is a cat."

"Although the exact breed wasn't specified, I deduced that, since today is our first Transfiguration class, the tabby cat must be your Animagus form."

Ian spoke eloquently, showing no outward signs of nervousness—if you ignored his tightly clenched right hand, that is. All his talk about reading books on Transfiguration and bold deductions? Completely fabricated on the spot.

The real reason Ian knew the tabby cat was Professor McGonagall was thanks to the films and books from his previous life.

Still, his polished explanation had clearly won McGonagall over, as her expression grew increasingly kind.

"Very good, Ian Potter. For your knowledge, I'm awarding five points to Gryffindor," Professor McGonagall said warmly.

Eh?

Ian's smile faltered slightly, and just as he was about to say something, McGonagall continued, "Oh, my apologies, Ian. I forgot you're a Slytherin student. Then let's add five points to Slytherin instead."

After speaking, McGonagall cast another glance at Ian, regret flashing in her eyes as she thought to herself: What a knowledgeable, clever, and respectful child—how is he not in my House?

Same family, same last name, she mused. Yet Ian can identify her Animagus form, while Harry's first class begins with him showing up five minutes late.

The thought made McGonagall glance at Gryffindor's Potter, and she instantly felt her head ache. As expected, like father, like son. Ian looks like Lily—brilliant and exceptional. Harry looks like James—rash and impulsive.

Shaking her head to dispel her wandering thoughts, McGonagall refocused on the lesson.

"Alright, let's begin class now," she said, her tone firm again. "Transfiguration is one of the most complex and dangerous branches of magic you'll study at Hogwarts. Anyone caught fooling around in my class will be sent out immediately and banned from returning."

With a wave of her wand, the words "Transfiguration: The Alteration of Matter" appeared on the blackboard behind her.

"Who can tell me what the alteration of matter means?" Professor McGonagall asked.

Without hesitation, Hermione raised her hand.

McGonagall gestured for her to stand and answer.

"An alteration of matter means the fundamental transformation of an object," Hermione answered fluently. "Anything that undergoes transfiguration will acquire the characteristics of the new object."

"Excellent! Five points to Gryffindor," McGonagall said approvingly. "The task for today's lesson is to turn the matchstick in front of you into a needle."

With a wave of her wand, a matchstick appeared on the desk in front of each student.

"I know this will be difficult for novice wizards like you, but that doesn't mean you can't give it a try," McGonagall said, moving to stand beside Harry as she began her demonstration. "The key to Transfiguration is concentration."

"You must visualize the object you want to transform it into—its shape, its characteristics—the more detailed, the better,"

As she spoke, McGonagall waved her wand lightly and muttered, "Needle!"

In the next moment, the matchstick in her hand transformed into a thin, long embroidery needle, complete with intricate patterns on its surface.

The class broke into applause, and McGonagall nodded in satisfaction. With another wave of her wand, the needle reverted to a matchstick.

"Alright, your turn now. Begin!"