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The Rivalry	By : Pseudonymous_Entity Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 4959 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: If you recognize it from the Harry Potter books, I didn't come up with it. I'm not making any money off of this story nor do I intend to. It's purely for entertainment.

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"...a matter of changing the natural state into an unnatural form in complex transmutations. The original form remembers its self and resists the change, it requires attention to small detail as well as an understanding of the form of the desired result in order to make any significant process. In recent years it's been a topic of discussion concerning more delicate procedures involving created objects that are altered while remaining permanently fixed in the original form. The difference between this and a transfiguration involving an object already in existence such as a tea cup or one's body is immense. One must have intimate knowledge of ones creation and its inner working in order to 'fix' it and then alter it without breaking the form. This is not the same as conjuring a temporary construct such as a chair to sit in. A magical construct, such as in the case of the chair, uses a small piece of the conjurers magic to create a dense shape capable of

sustaining weight for a limited amount of time. When it has served its purpose it is returned to its creators magical core and dissolve as if it never were. Our magic, being the valuable tool that it is, will remember this action and it will be easier to perform with each use. This is not the same, however impressive, as genuinely creating an article of magic with its own properties and purpose that lasts as long as desired by and according to rules designed be its creator, whereas a construct takes a constant toll on the performer of the magic as well as denies them a piece of their magic. When an article is created it becomes its own entity independent from but still very much connected to its creator. Thus in diagram two on the board you see the line indicating the will and desire of the user forcing its need through the focus, our wand, in order to shape the magic into the proper tool necessary for this achievement. There are many ways one might go

about doing this and it depends highly on your affinity, strength, stamina and talent. Anyone can learn the basic workings of creation and many can dabble with the idea however known creations of this exact nature have been unstable. The theory is sound and there are many arguments surrounding its possible uses and the correct techniques used to initiate a viable result. If you look to the third diagram..."

Draco waited impatiently for McGonagal to get on with it. He took the night class for Spell-crafting, his family had an trait for it, twice a week since first year and they'd covered creation theory last November in third year. Hearing her prattle on about the simplest possible explanations of it was a waste of his time. Beside him Pansy had her nails painted by an ever stoic Blaise. Zabini took the class with him, Pansy just wasn't interested.
Most of the people in this class wouldn't be able to grasp the subject let alone get to the point they could experiment with it, it required a great deal of mental discipline and after that there weren't many who had the power and the stamina to attempt creations of their own. This was an attempt to keep them informed of changes in magic, of which, as Potter so articulately put it, there were few. What it came down to was a class project instructing them to define creation and write out a hypothetical experiment to be submitted to the professor at the end of term showcasing their understanding of the topic as well as the fundamentals of Transfiguration at the end of the year. An obnoxiously long project in a sea of other projects coming their way. The years prior to OWLs and NEWTs were notorious for this.

He glanced across the aisle and three seats back where Potter sat with Granger. He too wasn't giving the class his full attention, choosing instead to read a book on an entirely different subject. Beside him Granger was painted with disapproval. He studied the Raven haired Gryffindor, taking in his alternating stiff and forced relax posture, the tightening of one of his fists and constant clear expression on his face. He did show glimpses of anger or amusement but, Draco noticed, any large or excessive emotional responses were cut off with an immediately ramrod straight posture, hardening eyes and his face smoothing its features. It was curious. He was no closer to discovering the exact catalyst for this behavior than he was at dinner the night before, but that only heightened his interest. Generally speaking Draco wasn't one for butting into other peoples business. He collected information sure but getting involved or taking an active interest wasn't a

part of his operating formulae. Usually. As always Potter somehow managed to be a special case.

"...please choose a suitable partner for the project, I will come by and give you parchment with further details, and decide on your seating arrangement. I suggest you take your time and choose wisely. There will be no swapping of partners after today."

Draco looked back to Potter automatically. The Gryffindor looked right back at him, putting his shoes up on his desk. Draco felt his lips turn upward. Really, he called Draco stubborn. Granger's voice filled the air with familiar irritating tones, no doubt extolling the virtues of wooden furniture to Potter in hopes he'd remove his treat and treat school property with respect. It wasn't as if they sat in a transfiguration class at a magical school where the teacher could whip up an entirely new set of desks should the mood strike. He wasn't sure what one could possibly find to say about furniture that would go three minutes and counting but Granger was apparently a fan of wooden desks and thus had no problem spewing complimentary commentary on the benefits of its existence. Draco fancied he could see the precise moment Potter's eyes glazed over.

An especially shrill note made Draco wince. Circe.

"She can be a bit much can't she?"

Draco looked forward and blinked. A Gryffindor with long dark hair stood before him, a book in her arms and other projecting a forced aura of confidence. He leaned forward, elbow on the desk, chin resting in his hand and gave her a soft smile. "Oh?"

She flushed and stared at him a bit vacantly. He cleared his throat.

"Oh! Well I only meant I wasn't sure how Harry tolerates it so well. I know she likes to say Lavender and I chatter a lot but at least we're not condescending. Especially with Harry, he's really much sharper than she gives him credit for, it must be frustrating."

Draco hummed non-committal response. The information was interesting and he ferreted it away immediately, but he refused to actively participate in gossip.

"Right." she muttered, shifting on her feet, "So, Malfoy?"

"Yes Patil?"

"I wonder if you would maybe like to-"

A whirlwind of black and red jumped over Pansy's newly vacated seat and placed its self between them. Potter grinned at him, utter unrepentant of the spectacle he was making of himself.

"Partners?" he asked, slightly out of breath.

Draco stared. "I...of course..."

Potter shot a look at the other Gryffindor that Draco couldn't see from where he was seated, then scrambled back to his old desk to retrieve his things.

"Another time Malfoy?" Asked Patil with an unreadable expression.

Draco pointed at the smaller Gryffindor who sped to and fro between desks moving objects rather than just shrinking them like anyone else would

"Honestly I doubt it. Possessive, that one."

Potter tripped over his chair spectacularly. "You shouldn't say things like that." Came a voice from the floor.

Draco leaned over to see Potter sprawled on the floor inelegantly, cradling his head where it must have smacked the floor. "Are you coming up here anytime soon?"

"...give me a minute."

McGonagal stepped lightly over the boy, placing the parchment outlining their assignment on Draco's desk. "Walk it off Potter."

Draco placed a hand over his mouth and snickered.

Potter sat up and glared at her back. "The concern for your students is inspiring."

"Alive are you?" Draco inquired.

The Gryffindor stood and sat in his chair the wrong way, wrapping his feet about the legs of it. "Miraculous recovery."

"Clearly. Here." He thrust a rather thick book at him.

Potter cursed, rubbing his stomach. "Why am I the designated book reader?"

"Because you read quicker than I do and take better notes. Just don't write in the margins this time, this isn't my book I borrowed it."

"It was an accident!"

"How do you accidentally write out a theoretical process for creating a poisoned apple in someone's book? I thought you were threatening me passive-aggressively."

Potter turned in his seat, green eyes glinting red. "Now that you mention it, your skin is white as snow."

"Yes but you're the one with lips red as blood and hair like ebony not me."

"I don't look like a girl though."

Draco raised his hands. "Don't take your inferiority complex out on me."

"I don't have a-"

"Mr Potter!"

Potter whipped around to face front, a smile of ultimate innocence on his face. He drew his brows together in confusion and cocked his head. "Professor?"

She huffed. "For Merlin's sake. Class is over. Leave."
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The Rivalry