Lily Evans and the Marauder's Secrets

Chapter 24: Transfiguration Triumphs

"Your final assignment before we break for the holidays is an essay," Professor McGonagall says once we've all taken our seats for class the next week. She taps the board, and chalk lines scrawl across the black surface, acting as her scribe. "You will use forty inches of parchment to illustrate the fundamental differences between Vanishing Spells and Conjuring Spells, and how the rhetoric of Conjuring Spells is the foundation for proper execution of human Transfiguration."

"Forty inches?!" George Belby exclaims loudly. I'm glad he did it before I could. I can hardly breathe. Forty. Agh. And on Conjuring Spells! James and I have barely started on those in our tutoring sessions, and I'm still pretty rubbish at them. Like I need this on top of everything else.

"Forty," Professor McGonagall says firmly. She narrows her eyes. "I am giving you more than adequate time to write this, and I will advise you to do your research. The more effort you put in now, the better off you will be when we return from Christmas holidays. I expect every last one of your essays on my desk start of class Monday the twelfth, no exceptions." She sweeps her steely gaze over us, daring anyone to grumble. We know better.

"Good," McGonagall says. "Then let's get into today's lesson."

***

When the post arrives the next morning over breakfast, I'm surprised to see Barnaby soaring down to me from the enchanted ceiling.

I haven't written Mum back yet. I'm still reflecting on James's advice, not to mention his offer to come with me, and not sure how to respond to Mum without causing even more drama than Petunia already has. I'm even less prepared to talk to Mum right now, since I'm not sure James's offer even still stands. He said he's not mad, but he's certainly not happy with me, either. Would he really want to sacrifice an evening of his holiday on me, his less-than-reliable mate?

Anyway, the point being I'm not expecting any post, since as far as I know, Barnaby's been living his best social life up in the Owlery with all the other owls for the last week. But here he comes, splashing down into my bowl of cereal.

"Thanks a lot," I mutter, mopping milk from the front of my robes.

"Here, I got you, Lily," James says from across the table, leaning around the giant Great Horned Owl who'd landed in front of him and managed not to make a giant mess. James points his wand at my front and a moment later, my robes feel warm and dry like they've just come straight from the laundry.

"Thanks," I say, feeling as idiotic as my owl I hadn't even thought to use magic to clean up. Sometimes, my muggle-born roots really show.

Barnaby, for his part, doesn't seem to realize he did anything wrong. He hops up, shaking his feathers dry, and sticks out his foot for me. Attached is a crisp scroll wrapped with a large, ornate red and gold velvet ribbon.

I unfurl it and read.

Dear Ms. Lily Evans,

Your presence is requested on Friday evening the 16th of December for a night of holiday food, music, dance, and festivities. This invitation-only party will be held in Professor Slughorn's quarters on the third floor. Invitees are allowed to bring one guest, if desired.

Please respond by owl your intentions of attending.

I greatly hope to see you there. It is sure to be an exciting night!

Regards,

Professor Horace Slughorn

Potions Master

Slug Club Director

Oh, right! How could I have forgotten Slughorn's infamous Christmas Party? They really are quite fun – Slughorn doesn't do parties halfway, and he always invites interesting guests. Not to mention, it's a great way to celebrate the end of classes for the next two weeks.