Adrian woke to pale light falling across his quilt and the sound of someone searching through a trunk with very little success.
For a moment, he stayed where he was, looking at the round window and the grass brushing against it.
Then Toby muttered something about a missing sock, and Adrian remembered that he was supposed to get dressed and find his way to breakfast before his first lesson.
Across the room, Cedric was sitting on the edge of his bed with his shirt half-buttoned.
“Morning,” he said, noticing Adrian stir.
“Sleep all right?”
“Yeah.
What time is it?”
“Early enough, if Toby ever finds his clothes.”
“It’s one sock,” Toby said from behind his raised trunk lid, sounding more offended by the description than the problem itself.
Adrian pushed back his quilt and sat up.
A dark bundle lay beneath the chair beside Toby’s bed, just visible behind one of the legs.
“Check under your chair.”
Toby bent down, retrieved the sock, and held it up with an expression that suggested somebody else ought to explain how it had got there.
Cedric finished buttoning his shirt while Adrian collected his clothes.
“You could’ve looked there first.”
“I looked everywhere else.”
Adrian smiled as he headed for the bathroom.
“Then you were getting close.”
By the time they reached the common room, several older students were leaving with bags over their shoulders, which made finding breakfast considerably easier than any of them had expected.
Adrian slowed near the hanging fern he had noticed the night before, but Cedric caught his eye from the doorway.
“Breakfast first.”
“I’m walking, aren’t I?”
Cedric waited until he caught up before following the others into the passage.
The Great Hall looked different in daylight, with sunlight spreading across the long tables beneath a pale ceiling scattered with clouds.
Adrian paused just inside the doors, then followed Cedric toward Hufflepuff as the smell of breakfast reached them.
Adrian followed Cedric to the Hufflepuff table and sat down, reaching for the toast while his friend poured himself some tea.
“Pass the butter, would you?” Cedric asked, setting the pot down between them.
Adrian slid it across before filling a glass with pumpkin juice.
He took a cautious sip, decided it was better than he’d expected, and began putting together his breakfast.
Professor Sprout arrived while he was buttering his toast, carrying their timetables and stopping to speak to each first-year as she handed them out.
When she reached Adrian, she gave him a cheerful smile.
“Mr.
Clarke.
Settled in comfortably?”
“Yes, Professor.
The beds are great.”
“Good.
I’d rather you remembered that at bedtime than discovered it halfway through a lesson.”
She passed him his parchment, then moved on to Toby, who had already managed to put his elbow in a patch of marmalade.
Adrian spread the timetable beside his plate.
Charms came first, followed by Transfiguration, with Potions after lunch.
He read it twice, pleased by the prospect of finally finding out what learning magic in a classroom would actually be like.
Cedric leaned closer to compare theirs.
“Same all the way down.”
“Good.
If we get lost, at least we’ll be lost together.”
“Don’t say that until we’ve found the first room.”
Fred and George arrived a few minutes later, slipping through a gap between the benches with their own timetables in hand.
Fred leaned over Adrian’s shoulder while George moved around Cedric to get a better look.
“We’ve got Charms with you,” Fred said.
“Charlie says it’s easy enough to find.”
George glanced toward the Gryffindor table.
“He’s explaining it to Lee now.
Percy tried first, but he started telling us which corridors we weren’t allowed in.”
Adrian folded his timetable before anything could spill on it.
“Did either of them tell you where we’re actually going?”
“Charlie did,” Fred said, then looked at George.
“You were listening, weren’t you?”
George pointed toward the doors.
“Come on.
I’ll show you.”
Adrian finished his drink and reached for his bag, deciding that following someone who sounded confident was a reasonable way to begin.
Professor Flitwick stood on a stack of large books behind his desk, examining a row of feathers when they entered.
He looked up at the sound of the door and welcomed them in, directing the first-years toward the empty seats.
Adrian sat beside Cedric, while Fred and George claimed the desk behind them.
He took out his wand and rested it beside his notebook, turning it once so it wouldn’t roll.
The wand still felt comfortable in his hand.
He hoped that would eventually translate into doing something without having to work quite so hard for it.
Once everyone was seated, Flitwick lifted his wand, and a small brass bell rose from his desk.
It rang above their heads before settling gently beside the feathers.
“Now that I have your attention,” he said, beaming at them, “welcome to Charms.”
He began by asking what they thought a charm did, accepting several answers before explaining how a charm could give an object a property it did not ordinarily possess.
Adrian listened closely, making a few notes while Flitwick sent the bell drifting across the front of the room.
“Levitation,” the professor said as it returned to him.
“A useful example, though you will need a little preparation before attempting it.”
Adrian’s attention sharpened.
He had read the description during August, and the resemblance to Float had stayed with him.
Reading it had not told him what casting it would feel like, however, and he kept his wand on the desk while Flitwick demonstrated the movement.
They spent the next part of the lesson practising that movement without the incantation.
Adrian followed carefully, then stopped when the professor asked them to watch again.
“Keep the action controlled.
We are guiding the magic, not trying to frighten the feather into moving.”
Behind Adrian, George quietly told Fred that his feather looked terrified already.
Adrian kept his eyes on Flitwick, although Cedric’s mouth twitched beside him.
When they were finally allowed to combine the movement with the words, the classroom filled with uneven attempts at the incantation.
Several feathers shifted because someone breathed on them, and one slid off a desk after its owner caught it with the tip of her wand.
Adrian’s first attempt did nothing.
He wasn’t particularly surprised, although he had hoped.
He tried again, concentrating on the movement and the syllables, but his grip tightened as he reached the end.
The feather remained where it was, and he lowered his wand before frustration could persuade him to repeat the same mistake.
Cedric glanced at him.
“Anything?”
“Not yet.”
Flitwick was working with a student near the window, so Adrian looked down at the description he had copied.
He knew what he wanted the feather to do, but he had been thinking so hard about executing the unfamiliar parts that the effect itself had become secondary.
With Sap, he had needed to understand what he was asking his magic to accomplish.
The name had been useful, but repeating it hadn’t been what made the ability work.
He looked back at the feather.
The connection to Float gave Adrian something clearer to work with than the unfamiliar incantation.
He watched the feather for a moment, thinking about the effect he wanted, then loosened his grip and repeated the wand movement.
“Float.”
The feather rose smoothly from the desk and stopped at eye level.
Adrian held still, surprised by how little resistance he felt.
Maintaining the spell required attention, but the magic responded comfortably enough that he let the feather climb another few inches before bringing it back down.
Cedric lowered his own wand.
“That wasn’t what he told us to say.”
“Yeah, I know.” Adrian watched the feather settle, then glanced at his friend.
“But it worked.”
“Indeed it did,” Flitwick said, arriving beside their desk.
“Though Mr.
Diggory is quite right about the incantation.
What prompted you to try that, Mr.
Clarke?”
Adrian looked up, aware that Fred and George had stopped practising behind him.
“The name made more sense to me, Professor.
I could picture what I wanted better.”
Flitwick considered him, then indicated the feather.
“Would you demonstrate it again?
The same way, please.”
Adrian repeated the movement and said, “Float,” lifting the feather above the desk.
This time, he kept his attention on the sensation rather than the novelty, noticing how readily the magic responded when he asked it to rise or settle.
Flitwick watched until the feather returned to the wood, then smiled.
“Very interesting.
Five points to Hufflepuff for a successful levitation.
I should like you to stay for a moment after the lesson so we can discuss your approach.”
Adrian nodded.
“Sure.
Did I do something wrong?”
“You achieved the intended result through an unexpected method.
That warrants a question or two.” Flitwick glanced toward the nearby desks, where several students were listening.
“Everyone else, please continue with the incantation I demonstrated.”
Fred waited until the professor had moved away before leaning forward.
“Is that how they say it in America?”
Adrian turned in his chair, grinning.
“Nope.
George looked down at his feather.
“Convenient, though.
Much less to remember.”
Cedric was still studying Adrian’s wand, and Adrian brought his attention back to their desk before the conversation could carry any farther.
“I was squeezing too hard before,” he said, demonstrating his grip.
“Try relaxing your hand a little.”
That wouldn’t explain everything, but it was something Cedric could use.
His feather trembled on the next attempt, and Adrian watched while he tried again, pointing out when his grip began to tighten.
By the end of the lesson, Cedric had managed to lift it just above the desk, while Adrian could raise and lower his without much difficulty.
Moving it sideways took more care, and Flitwick reminded him twice to keep it over his own workspace.
When the others began packing, Adrian stayed seated as the professor approached.
Cedric waited by the door with the twins, leaving Adrian to wonder how much of an explanation Flitwick expected.
“Now, Mr.
Clarke, about your choice of incantation.” Flitwick rested a hand on the desk and glanced at the feather.
“Did you encounter it in a book?”
“Not a schoolbook.
The name reminded me of the same kind of effect, so I figured I’d try it.”
“And you have never cast this charm before today?”
“No, sir.
Just Lumos at home, and that was a lot harder.”
Flitwick considered that, then asked him to demonstrate once more.
Adrian lifted the feather with a quiet “Float” and brought it back to the desk, relieved that it worked as smoothly under scrutiny.
“Well, the result is quite satisfactory,” Flitwick said.
“For your written work, please use the name given in your textbook so that I know which charm you are discussing.
During our practical lessons, I should like you to show me before attempting any other substitutions.”
“Sure.
Is it okay if I keep using this one?”
“For this exercise, yes.
We shall see how you progress.”
Adrian thanked him and collected his bag, joining the others outside while George was trying to decide which way they had come.
“What did he say?” Fred asked as they set off.
“I can keep doing it.
I just have to use the regular name on homework.”
George looked pleased by that.
“Saves us having to learn two names for everything.”
Adrian smiled, but he was still thinking about the spell when they reached Transfiguration.
Whatever had made Float easier, he wanted to understand it well enough to do more than stumble into another success.
McGonagall was already standing at the front of the classroom, and the sight of her brought their conversation to an end.
They found seats together, with the twins behind Adrian and Cedric, and began taking out their books while she watched the remaining students settle.
“Transfiguration requires your full attention,” she began.
“You will follow the instructions you are given, and you will ask before attempting anything you do not understand.
Guesswork can produce results that are considerably easier to achieve than to reverse.”
She turned toward the desk beside her and raised her wand.
A moment later, a large pig stood in its place, snuffling at the floor before taking several steps toward the first row.
Adrian leaned forward, trying to take in the movement of its ears and the bristles along its back, but McGonagall restored the desk before he could examine it properly.
Behind him, Fred leaned toward George.
“Think she’d do that to Percy’s desk?”
“Mr.
Weasley,” McGonagall said, and Fred straightened as she turned toward him.
“If you have a question, let the rest of us hear it.”
“No, Professor.
Sorry.”
She held his gaze for another moment before directing them to open their books, and George quietly pushed Fred’s across the desk toward him.
Their first exercise involved turning a matchstick into a needle, although McGonagall spent enough time explaining the process that Adrian began to appreciate how much her demonstration had concealed.
He followed the description in his textbook, took notes, and watched closely when she repeated the wand movement.
He kept the incantation she had taught them and concentrated on getting the unfamiliar technique right.
His first attempt left the matchstick unchanged, and the second produced so little that he leaned closer to check whether anything had happened at all.
Beside him, Cedric nudged his own attempt across the desk.
“Does that look silver to you?”
“Yeah, along the side.” Adrian tilted his head to catch the light.
“You’ve definitely got something.”
Cedric drew it back, looking encouraged, while Adrian returned to his own piece of wood.
The ease he had found with Float was absent, and putting more effort into the spell seemed to tire his hand without accomplishing much else.
He lowered his wand and flexed his fingers before trying again.
McGonagall reached their desk as he finished, examining both matchsticks before turning to him.
“Show me your movement, Mr.
Clarke.”
Adrian demonstrated it slowly, and she corrected the final angle before asking him to repeat the spell.
“Complete the movement.
You’re stopping to inspect your work before you’ve finished.”
He hadn’t realised he was doing that.
On the next attempt, he kept his attention on the whole action, and a small patch of the matchstick darkened.
McGonagall bent slightly to examine it.
“Better.
There has been a change, although you have some way to go.”
Adrian looked from the mark to the needle she had placed at the front of the room.
“Professor, does the whole thing have to change at once, or should I work on the part that’s already different?”
“Keep the complete needle in mind.
You may see only a partial change while you are learning, but that should not become your intended result.”
“Okay.
I wasn’t sure if I was getting ahead of myself.”
“You are quite capable of attempting the exercise as assigned.
Give yourself time to learn it.”
She watched him try again, offered one further correction, and continued down the row.
Adrian kept practising, pausing whenever he caught himself gripping the wand too tightly.
By the end of the lesson, one end of his matchstick had narrowed slightly, though most of it remained unmistakably wooden.
Cedric’s had acquired a more convincing silver patch, and they compared their work before McGonagall collected the results.
Adrian wrote down her corrections while he still remembered them.
He was disappointed, but at least he had something specific to work on next time.
Outside the classroom, Fred caught up with them and held his fingers a short distance apart.
“Mine changed about that much.”
George inspected the gap as they walked.
“You can barely see between your fingers.”
Fred nodded solemnly, then dropped his hand when Cedric laughed.
Adrian shifted his bag higher on his shoulder.
“Mine’s still mostly a match.
You might be ahead of me.”
That kept them occupied until they reached the stairs, where finding the way to lunch became more pressing than comparing their results.
By the time they sat down, Adrian was hungry enough to put his notebook aside.
Cedric helped himself to potatoes while Adrian checked their afternoon classroom on his schedule, then folded it safely away from the gravy.
“You were good at the feather,” Cedric said.
“That must count for something.”
“It does.
Float felt familiar once I got it working.” Adrian reached for a roll, considering how to explain the difference.
“The matchstick felt like I was trying to write with my left hand.”
“You’ve only had one lesson.”
Adrian glanced at him, recognising the patient tone, and Cedric paused with the serving spoon still in his hand.
“What?”
“My dad said pretty much the same thing when I was working on Lumos.”
“Then perhaps he’s right.”
“He usually is.” Adrian pulled his plate closer.
“It gets annoying.”
Cedric smiled and passed him the potatoes, allowing the conversation to move on while they ate.
Across from them, Toby was asking Maisie whether she had heard anything about Snape’s lessons.
Adrian listened without interrupting until Toby turned toward him.
“You’ve met him, haven’t you?”
“He took me shopping.”
Toby looked briefly hopeful.
“What’s he like?”
Adrian considered the question while reaching for his drink.
“He noticed a shoelace I hadn’t tied before I even finished saying hello.
I’d double-check the instructions.”
Maisie looked down at the Potions book beside her plate and opened it.
The dungeon classroom was cool enough that Adrian understood Toby’s concern about the temperature before they reached their seats.
Glass jars lined the shelves, several containing things he would have liked to examine if the man standing at the front had been anyone else.
Snape watched them enter without offering a greeting.
Adrian sat beside Cedric, arranged his equipment, and checked that his scales moved freely.
Across the room, Marius Avery took a place beside the boy who had accompanied him at dinner, glancing toward Adrian before opening his bag.
The door closed, and the last conversations stopped.
Snape began with the register, acknowledging each answer with a mark on the parchment.
His eyes lifted briefly when Adrian responded, but he continued without comment.
Once the names were finished, he set the list aside.
“You will read the instructions before touching your ingredients.
You will measure what is required, rather than what happens to fall into your cauldron, and you will inform me immediately if you make an error.”
His voice remained quiet, which made the room seem quieter around it.
“Concealing a mistake will not improve the potion.
It may, however, make the consequences considerably more memorable.”
The potion they were assigned required enough preparation that he was glad Cedric had always been reasonably careful.
They divided the work without much discussion, with Adrian handling the scales while Cedric checked the quantities against the board.
Snape stopped beside them during the first measurement.
“Your scales, Mr.
Clarke.”
Adrian looked up.
“They’re moving fine, sir.
I checked.”
“I would hope so, given the time you devoted to selecting them.”
Cedric kept his eyes firmly on the ingredients while Adrian adjusted the final quantity.
“Yes, sir.”
Snape watched the balance settle, then moved on.
Only when he was well out of earshot did Cedric lean closer.
“You weren’t joking about the shopping.”
Adrian shook his head and passed him the measured ingredient.
The work demanded more attention than he had expected, but it was a kind of attention he understood.
He could inspect what he was using, follow a sequence, and watch for changes that told him whether the process was going correctly.
Nothing about that made the lesson easy, particularly with Snape moving between the desks, but he wasn’t struggling to force an unfamiliar spell through his wand.
When they reached the instruction to remove the cauldron from the heat, Cedric moved it while Adrian checked the next stage.
A sharp voice interrupted from two desks away.
“Put that down.”
A boy froze with an ingredient held above his cauldron, and Snape crossed the room.
“Read the preceding instruction.”
The boy looked at the board.
“Aloud.”
Adrian kept his attention on their own work as the student stumbled through the line.
Cedric waited until Adrian nodded before they continued, and neither spoke for several minutes.
Their finished potion was close to the colour described, although Adrian wasn’t sure whether the slight difference mattered.
They filled a sample and labelled it, then waited while Snape examined their desk.
“Acceptable,” he said.
Adrian found that he was quite pleased with acceptable.
They cleaned their equipment, packed their bags, and left when dismissed.
Marius passed them near the door but continued along the corridor without stopping, which suited Adrian perfectly.
Toby waited until they reached the stairs before letting out a long breath.
“I thought he was going to take the cauldron away from that boy.”
“He probably wished he had,” Cedric said.
Adrian adjusted his bag.
“At least ours stayed in the pot.”
Maisie glanced back toward the dungeon.
“Let’s keep it that way.”
By the time Adrian sat down in the common room that afternoon, he had a much better idea of what his father meant about needing seven years.
Cedric claimed the chair beside him, and they worked through their assigned reading while Toby and Maisie argued quietly over how much they were supposed to write for Transfiguration.
Adrian finished the paragraph he was on before opening his notebook to a clean page.
He recorded the Levitation Charm first, describing what had changed when he stopped treating the movement and incantation as the whole exercise.
He was careful to include the unsuccessful attempts as well, because leaving them out would make the result look much simpler than it had been.
Then he added the matchstick.
The contrast mattered.
His wand could work comfortably with him, but that didn’t mean all conventional spells would become easier once he found the right mood.
Something about levitation suited the magic he already knew how to use, while Transfiguration had given him much the same resistance as Lumos.
It supported the connection to green magick.
Cedric looked over when Adrian paused.
“Writing down what went wrong?”
“What went right, too.
There’s less of that, so it takes less time.”
Cedric smiled and returned to his book.
Adrian reread the page, then closed the notebook before he could turn one lesson into an entire theory.
He had homework to finish, and he wanted to write home before his mother decided to send an owl asking whether he had forgotten his address.
He took out a fresh sheet of parchment and began with his Sorting.
Writing about Hufflepuff was easy.
Explaining the castle took longer, partly because he kept thinking of details he wanted to include, and he had filled most of one side before reaching his lessons.
He mentioned the feather and the matchstick together, then added that he and Cedric had made a potion Snape considered acceptable.
After a moment’s thought, he included Marius.
There’s a boy here named Marius Avery.
He said his dad knew of you and brought up you leaving Britain.
I didn’t know what he wanted, so I figured I’d ask you.
Adrian read the paragraph again, satisfied that it said what had happened without making more of it than he knew.
He ended by assuring his mother that he had eaten properly, which was easy enough to prove if she ever asked Cedric.
“Do you know where we send these?” he asked, holding up the folded parchment.
Cedric looked at it.
“The Owlery.
We’ll have to ask someone where it is.”
“I’m starting to think half of school is finding the right room.”
A passing older student overheard and stopped long enough to give them directions, recommending they go before it got dark.
Adrian tucked the letter into his bag, and Cedric decided to come with him once he had finished his own.
They found Hagrid outside while trying to work out whether they had taken the correct path.
Hagrid was carrying a coil of rope over one shoulder, and he slowed when he noticed them looking between the building ahead and the directions Adrian had scribbled.
“All right, you two?
Not lost already?”
“We’re looking for the Owlery,” Adrian said, holding up the note.
“I think we missed a turn.”
“Ah, yeh’ve come a bit too far this way.” Hagrid pointed back along the path, waiting until both boys were looking before explaining where they needed to turn.
“Yeh’ll find it.
Takes a while ter get used ter the place.”
Adrian corrected his directions while Hagrid shifted the rope more comfortably on his shoulder.
“How’ve yer lessons been, then?”
“Pretty good.
I got a feather to float, but the matchstick’s still a matchstick.”
Hagrid chuckled, his beard moving with the sound.
“Give it time.
Can’t expect ter manage everythin’ on yer first day.”
Cedric gave Adrian a look that he chose to ignore, and Hagrid was preparing to continue when Adrian remembered the question he had wanted to ask since the boats.
“Before you go, is there really a giant squid in the lake?”
“Oh, aye,” Hagrid said, brightening at once.
“Seen it up near the surface yesterday.
Likes a bit o’ sunshine.”
Adrian glanced toward the water, though they couldn’t see much of it from where they stood.
“Is there a good spot to watch for it?”
“Down by the bank’s as good as anywhere, long as yeh’ve got the patience.” Hagrid followed his gaze before looking back at the boys.
“Stay on dry ground, mind.
Don’t want either of yeh slippin’ in because yeh’re tryin’ ter get a better look.”
“I’ll stay back.
I just want to see it.”
“He’ll wait all afternoon if he thinks it’s coming up,” Cedric said, and Adrian turned toward him.
“You say that like it’s a problem.”
“Nothing wrong with a bit o’ patience,” Hagrid put in, smiling down at them.
“Need it round creatures.
They’ve got their own ideas about things.”
That sounded reasonable to Adrian, who had spent enough time waiting for animals to approach him to appreciate the point.
Hagrid noticed his nod and looked interested.
“Fond of creatures, are yeh?”
“Yeah.
I’ve been reading Scamander, and I picked up another book about the ones around here.”
“Good man, Scamander.
Knows what he’s talkin’ about.” Hagrid adjusted the rope again, warming to the subject.
“Tell yeh what, come down ter me hut when yeh’ve got a bit o’ time.
I’ll put the kettle on, an’ yeh can tell me what yeh’ve been readin’.
Might be able ter answer a few questions.”
“I’d love that,” Adrian said, quickly enough to make Cedric smile.
“Both of yeh, if yeh like,” Hagrid added, nodding to Cedric.
“Just make sure yer work’s done first.
Don’t want Professor Sprout thinkin’ I’m keepin’ yeh from it.”
They thanked him before heading back along the path, and Adrian glanced toward the lake once more as Hagrid continued across the grounds.
Cedric waited until they were out of earshot.
“You’ll have to finish your homework before you go.”
“I heard him.”
“I know.
I thought you might need reminding.”
Adrian smiled and tucked the directions away, confident they could find the next turn without them.
When they finally reached the Owlery, he paused inside the entrance and let his eyes adjust, watching the birds before approaching any of them.
One shifted away along its perch, while another kept sleeping with its head tucked beneath a wing.
A brown owl near the end of a lower perch opened its eyes and watched him.
Adrian turned slightly, giving it space, then made a soft sound and waited until it settled its feathers.
Behind him, Cedric leaned against the wall.
“At least you know what you’re doing in here.”
“Let’s see if it agrees,” Adrian said, smiling as he took out his letter.