The explosion at Malfoy Manor didn't have much to do with Hogwarts. Here, even if you were Voldemort, you'd have to sit tight, and if you were Grindelwald, you'd better lie low. Nothing was allowed to interfere with classes. If you wanted to stir up trouble, you'd have to wait until after exams.
After breakfast, the new Gryffindors headed off to their first class at Hogwarts—Charms. Everyone was a bit nervous.
Charles and Seamus were no exception. They were so distracted they didn't even realize they'd gotten lost.
Fortunately, the castle was full of paintings, and ghosts drifted by from time to time. As long as you asked politely, they were usually happy to point you in the right direction.
Except for Peeves. With him, it didn't matter how polite you were—he would find a way to mess with you regardless.
"Well, well, what have we here?!" Peeves burst through the ceiling and hovered in the corridor, cackling. "Two little firsties! Time for some fun!"
He zipped over to a suit of armor at the end of the hall and gave it a mighty shove—right in their direction.
CLANG!
The heavy metal armor crashed to the ground, scattering across the floor. A flying helmet struck Seamus squarely in the shin. He howled in pain, clutching his leg as his books tumbled to the ground.
Charles stepped on a flying gauntlet before it could smack anyone else. As Peeves zipped toward another suit of armor, Charles had a sudden thought. He kicked the gauntlet—hard.
Just as Peeves was reaching for the second suit of armor, the gauntlet flew through the air and smacked him mid-hover, sending him spinning two meters backward.
"Who did that?!" Peeves shrieked in outrage. "Who dares—?!"
"Accio Peeves!"
"Banishing Charm, go!"
Before Peeves could finish ranting, it was as though an invisible hand grabbed him by the collar and hurled him straight out the window.
"Wicked!" Seamus forgot about his aching leg and ran to Charles, wide-eyed. "How'd you do that?! Mum told me no one can handle Peeves!"
Charles grinned and said, "Come on, we're gonna be late. I'll explain on the way."
Seamus quickly grabbed his books, and the two of them hurried to the Charms classroom on the fourth floor.
On the way, Charles said, "Before I came to school, I read that Peeves can pass through walls but also touch objects. That sounded contradictory."
"So I figured—maybe Peeves has two different states: one where he can phase through things, and another where he can interact with them. But the two states can't happen at the same time."
"When he tried to shove the armor just now, that meant he was in a solid state—able to touch things. Which also means things can touch him."
"To test that, I threw something at him—and it worked. So I followed it up with a Summoning Charm and a Banishing Charm combo while he was still stunned."
Seamus didn't quite get all of it, but it definitely sounded impressive.
The two of them reached the Charms classroom just in time. As they sat down, Professor Flitwick appeared—standing on a stack of books behind the podium so he could peek over the top. He opened his roster and began roll call.
"Harry… Potter…"
The professor's voice trembled with excitement—he looked like he might faint from sheer enthusiasm.
Seamus whispered enviously, "Potter's really famous, huh? Wherever he goes, people are watching."
Charles whispered back, "Don't worry. With your talent, I'm sure you'll be in the spotlight too someday."
"Hope so," Seamus muttered.
And it didn't take long for him to get there.
After roll call, Professor Flitwick addressed the class. "Learning Charms requires patience and diligent practice. Don't expect to master advanced spells in your first year."
"Today, we'll begin with a simple charm—Gentle Breeze. Who here has heard of this one?"
The words had barely left his mouth before Hermione's hand shot up, so fast it might as well have been on a spring.
After being called on, Hermione stood up and answered, "The purpose of the Gentle Breeze Charm is to produce a stream of air from the tip of the wand. The incantation is... blabla-blabla... and the wand movement goes... swish-swish..."
She sounded more animated than usual, like she was doing her absolute favorite thing in the world.
Professor Flitwick clapped enthusiastically. "Excellent, excellent! Perfect answer—two points to Gryffindor!"
Charles, looking at the back of her head, could already picture the proud little smile she must have had when she sat down.
Hermione, beneath all that confidence, was actually quite sensitive. After all, she was just an eleven-year-old girl dropped into an entirely unfamiliar world—her pride was just a way of protecting herself.
Still, she was brilliant enough to back it up.
Professor Flitwick began explaining how to pronounce the incantation, how to move your wand correctly, and then it was time to practice.
The charm itself was actually quite simple—many of the students from wizarding families already knew it before arriving.
These students had learned from their parents, but adult witches and wizards often picked up casual habits when casting spells—shortcuts and flair that weren't always suitable for beginners.
So Professor Flitwick walked around the classroom, correcting sloppy techniques. "Start with the basics," he said. "Then, once you master them, you can adapt to your style."
When he got to Charles, he took a moment to admire the wand—which was nearly half Charles' height. "A fine wand," Flitwick said, impressed. "But be careful—the longer the wand, the easier it is to mess up the tip's movement. And spellcasting is all about the wand tip's path."
"Thank you, Professor," Charles said quickly. "I'll be careful."
Jack hadn't mentioned that detail. This was the kind of thing that separated educators from ordinary folk.
After half the class, nearly everyone had gotten the hang of the spell. Wands were puffing out gusts of air like magical hairdryers, and students were giggling as they playfully blew each other's hair in all directions.
Charles figured Professor Flitwick had chosen such an easy charm for their first lesson to help build their confidence.
Then the professor clapped his hands and said, "Let's play a little game—extra points are on the line!"
At the front of the room, a long table had been set up with a row of candles, spaced ten centimeters apart. The challenge: cast the Gentle Breeze Charm from one end of the table and see how many candles you could blow out.
The row stretched about two meters. Anyone who extinguished candles beyond the 1.5-meter mark got one bonus point. Blow out the last candle? That was worth two.
One try per person. Everyone gave it everything they had.
Harry stepped up under the weight of everyone's stares. He looked a little nervous as he cast the charm, and when the gust settled, only three candles were still flickering.
He let out a sigh and glanced over at Charles, looking a bit dejected.
Charles smirked and said cheerfully, "Don't feel bad! You still beat Hermione—by quite a few candles, actually."
Next up was Seamus, who also looked a little tense.
"Nothing to worry about," Professor Flitwick said kindly. "It's just a fun little game. No pressure."
Seamus took a deep breath, calming himself, and raised his wand toward the candles.
BOOM!
The explosion echoed through the classroom. Everyone slapped their hands over their ears.
Where Seamus had been standing, there were no candles left. In fact, the entire table had vanished.
Charles blinked, wide-eyed. Seamus had used that exact spell earlier to blow air at his hair—and if the wand had misfired then with that same force…
"I'd be laid out in Hagrid's cemetery room by now," Charles thought, a chill running down his spine.
"Old man Jack was right," he added to himself.
"Hogwarts is dangerous."
(End of Chapter)
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