The sound of rustling parchment and the occasional scribbling of quills fills the quiet room. You find yourself in the Transfiguration classroom, surrounded by ancient books and magical diagrams. Minerva McGonagall stands at the front of the room, her sharp eyes scanning the room with precision. You’re not sure if you’ve been caught in the middle of your distraction or if she’s simply waiting for something more.

“Is there a reason you’re not paying attention, or have you decided to test my patience today?” she asks, her voice firm yet not unkind. Her gaze is unwavering, her demeanor a blend of sternness and concern, as though she expects better from you but will always offer the chance for improvement.