Outside of school, Phineas didn't have such worries. The Black family, which had existed in the magical world for centuries and produced many renowned witches and wizards, naturally had its own contingency plans.
Besides, it wasn't as if Phineas had been idle all these years.
"No, no, no, Mr. Black. I believe you have a complete grasp of the theory, don't you?"
Professor McGonagall interrupted Phineas's movements with her usual sharp tone, then added,
"Of course, I hope you'll study independently during this class and come to my office afterward."
It was clear what she meant: he could do as he liked during the lesson for now, and she would give him individual instruction later.
Phineas nodded.
"Understood, Professor McGonagall."
Professor McGonagall wasn't the only one who gave Phineas such special treatment. In fact, with the exception of History of Magic and Astronomy, almost all professors were willing to give him extra time after class.
The lesson passed uneventfully. They were practicing the basic Transfiguration spell—one of the simplest spells, comparable to the Levitation Charm. That said, Transfiguration was generally considered more difficult than Charms, mostly because young wizards often struggled to control their imaginations. The younger the wizard, the more vivid their fantasies, and that could easily interfere with casting successful transfigurations.
Still, because the spell was simple, nothing serious ever really happened in class. At most, someone might accidentally sprout an extra tail on a matchstick mouse or fail to transfigure an object entirely. Explosions or dangerous accidents were almost unheard of.
If such a student did exist, Professor McGonagall would have to admit they possessed a talent in magical chaos that exceeded all expectations.
After class, Phineas followed Professor McGonagall to her office.
Unlike the Transfiguration classroom on the first floor, her office was located on the second floor of the castle—a cozy study nestled along one of the quieter corridors.
There was a roaring fireplace, a window that looked out over the Quidditch pitch, and a hidden door that led to a gravel-paved private room. Perhaps due to the room's small size or the number of classes Professor McGonagall taught, she often preferred to work in the larger classroom downstairs.
"Alright, don't be nervous. Sit wherever you like," she said kindly once they stepped inside.
Though Professor McGonagall always looked stern, her demeanor toward students—especially compared to Professor Snape—was considerably more gentle.
"Thank you, Professor."
Phineas sat on a single armchair.
Professor McGonagall looked at him for a moment, then smiled faintly and gave her wand a flick. A teacup appeared on the table before Phineas. From the corner of the room, a teapot floated toward them and neatly poured tea into the cup.
"Have some black tea. I'm not sure whether you like it."
Phineas accepted the cup politely.
"I like it very much. Thank you, Professor."
Professor McGonagall waved off the thanks and took a sip of her own tea.
After a brief silence, she set her cup down and asked,
"So, Mr. Black, can you tell me how far you've come with your Transfiguration studies?"
Phineas was caught off guard. He hadn't expected her to see through his disguise so easily. While he had mentally prepared himself for the possibility, it still stung to be exposed so quickly.
Nevertheless, he answered truthfully.
"I've mastered basic transfiguration spells, object transformations, and disembodiment spells. I'm not yet proficient in summoning spells. I have some understanding of the Vanishing Spell, but I know very little about human transfiguration and related magics."
Professor McGonagall's eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise. She had always known Phineas was gifted—after all, eleven years ago, the magical world had been abuzz with the news that a newborn Black had triggered a magical outburst under the full moon. Even the Dark Lord himself had taken notice.
Yes, Voldemort had not wanted Phineas as a follower—he had sought him as a disciple.
But he had been forced to give up the idea. Ancient figures within the Black family, long dormant and uninterested in worldly affairs, had intervened. They refused to allow the brightest talent in their bloodline to become the apprentice of a dark wizard—no matter how accomplished he was.
Snapping back from her thoughts, Professor McGonagall cleared her throat.
"Your progress is... beyond what I expected. No matter. You can begin studying summoning spells with the regular curriculum."
As she spoke, she pulled a worn notebook from the shelf behind her and handed it to Phineas.
"This contains my personal notes and experiences with summoning, vanishing, and restoration spells. Take it. It may help you."
Phineas took the notebook carefully, sensing the value of its contents.
Professor McGonagall continued,
"Also, would you be interested in joining my Transfiguration Club? I usually invite students from third year and above who demonstrate real aptitude. We focus on more advanced theory and applications of transfiguration."
Phineas's eyes brightened. This was not just a club—it was a sign that he had truly been recognized. It would go a long way in helping him shift his current standing at Hogwarts.
"It would be my pleasure."
Professor McGonagall smiled, clearly pleased.
"Excellent. I imagine Professor Flitwick will also be inviting you to his Charms Club soon."
Then she added,
"Well, Mr. Black, do you have any questions?"
Phineas hesitated.
"Yes, actually. I've been researching the history of the castle lately, and I wanted to ask—what was this office used for before you took it over?"
Professor McGonagall blinked, surprised by the question.
"Oh, this room? When I was a student, it belonged to Professor Dumbledore. I inherited it from him. Before that, it was just a small lounge."
Phineas frowned.
"So, it wasn't an office before Professor Dumbledore used it?"
McGonagall gave him a more measured look.
"Mr. Black, I'm not sure what you're searching for, but you must understand—this castle is very old. There are parts of it even I don't fully understand. Even Professor Dumbledore admitted as much. Please be cautious."
She stood and gave a gentle nod toward the door.
"I think it's time you returned to your dormitory."
Phineas stood as well.
"Yes, Professor. I understand."
He turned toward the door, but just as his hand reached for the handle, Professor McGonagall spoke again.