September 2, Hogwarts, Kael’s room, after classes.
If you looked into a first-year Ravenclaw’s room, you might see an interesting sight.
At that moment, Kael was sitting on the floor in the lotus position, meditating.
What was strange about this picture was not the boy himself, but his surroundings.
Around him flew about three dozen metal balls.
Each of these balls flew along a different trajectory at a different speed.
They would stop, then speed up.
Some would hover in one position for several minutes, then suddenly take off in a dizzying maneuver.
Some would collide in midair and then fly apart.
All of this created a beautiful, chaotic picture.
If you looked closely, you could see that the balls were different.
Some stood out by their size, others by their color.
The thing was, each material weighed differently, and the effort required to move them was different.
What better way to train your control?
***
Sitting on the floor in my room, I was thinking.
Meditation was a great help in this.
The day had brought too many reasons for reflection.
Perhaps I should think it all through from the beginning, in case I missed something?
The double Herbology lessons went better than I could have imagined.
The credit for this goes entirely to Professor Sprout.
As soon as we entered the greenhouse, we found ourselves in a huge space.
There were so many different plants there that my eyes went wide.
Everything you could imagine was there.
I should note right away that the greenhouse was divided into several sectors depending on the plants growing there.
True, all the plants were only from the first-year curriculum.
Such as Devil’s Snare, lavender (the magical variety), and many others.
Apparently, so that we could immediately get acquainted with what we would encounter in the future.
Also, in the back of the greenhouse, there was a whole “mountain” of gardening tools.
Looking at the greenhouse with my magical vision, I plunged into a whole sea of “living” mana.
Only then did it become clear to me that magical plants were arranged in groups according to their mana hues.
I wondered if plants of different “mana groups” somehow influenced each other.
And how could this be used in other areas of the magical world?
As soon as I turned off my magical vision, Professor Sprout entered the greenhouse.
What could I say about her?
A beautiful girl, I couldn’t bring myself to call her a woman, about twenty-five to thirty years old (what else would you expect from a powerful witch?
And the professor was exactly that), dressed in a magical version of overalls.
By the magic “woven” into it, it was clear that this was not an ordinary jumpsuit.
Her thick brown hair was partially hidden under a neat cap, and her slender hands were covered in dragon-hide gloves (I know, all first-years have them).
The professor’s face simply radiated kindness, and the smile that graced her beautiful face made it clear that she was an incredibly kind person.
I hoped that was the case, and not another mask so beloved by representatives of the magical world.
“Good morning, first-years,” the professor said, her smile growing even wider.
“Welcome to your first Herbology lesson.
In this class, we will get to know each other, and also learn how to interact with and care for plants.
I have a request for you.
Raise your hand if you have ever interacted with plants before?”
As soon as the question was asked, silence fell.
Not an oppressive silence, but one in which you could feel the hesitation of the interlocutor.
The professor stood there with the same kind smile.
After a while, the children began to raise their hands.
Out of about thirty people, only four raised their hands.
One boy and three girls.
I can’t say anything about the girls, but the boy unexpectedly turned out to be Neville Longbottom.
Seeing him, I went into a daze.
How?
Wasn’t he supposed to be with the Lions?
Why was he in the Badger’s house?
While the children stood with their hands raised, I plunged into my mind.
Sure enough, on Sorting day, Neville had been sorted into Hufflepuff.
Why hadn’t I paid attention?
How had I missed it?
Looking through my memories, I realized that at the moment Neville was being Sorted, I was thinking about the Potter situation.
But still, how had I not noticed?
I heard Neville being called, but I didn’t pay it enough attention.
What if it had been a different situation, like with the troll?
That could have a big impact on my life.
This was a complete failure.
I needed to learn to pay attention to my surroundings, even if it was difficult and would tax my mind.
It was better than missing something important.
While I was lamenting my carelessness, the professor continued.
“Wonderful,” Miss Sprout said, clapping her hands.
“There are four whole people this year who are interested in magical plants.
Simply wonderful.
Now, raise your hand if you have read at least the introductory chapter of the textbook.” After her words, all the children raised their hands.
I expected that from my house, but Hufflepuff surprised me a little.
Though, why should I be surprised, considering who their head of house is?
“Excellent.
I am very glad that you are so responsible about the subject.
Now, follow me.”
Having said that, the professor led us deeper into the greenhouse.
Reaching an empty space somewhere in the center of the greenhouse, the professor pulled out her wand and conjured chairs for us and herself.
They were positioned so that we could see Miss Sprout.
Putting her wand away, the professor motioned for us to sit down, setting an example herself.
As soon as we sat down, she began her speech.
“As I said earlier, Herbology is the science of plants.
Why plants, and not magical plants?
Because there are different types of plants, both magical and semi-magical.
Does anyone know why they are called that?”
Two hands went up.
Who would have guessed?
Neville and I.
It was time to start playing my role.
“Two whole volunteers.
Well, what should I do with you?” the professor said with a smile.
“Neville, after our conversation yesterday, I fully understand that you are far ahead of the first-year curriculum.
Would you give your classmate a chance?”
“I-I don’t mind, Professor,” Neville answered, stammering slightly, lowering his hand.
“I’m not against it.”
“Wonderful,” the professor smiled a soft smile at Neville, just like my mom.
“Please, Mr…?”
“Kael Massimo, ma’am.”
“…Massimo, answer my question.
Why are plants called magical and semi-magical?
You don’t need to stand, you can answer sitting down.”
“Thank you, Professor,” I said, nodding respectfully.
“As you said, there are both magical and semi-magical plants.
The fundamental difference lies in where they grow.
Semi-magical plants can grow both in the magical world and in the non-magical world.
Magical plants can only grow in the magical world.
May I offer my opinion on this?” After an encouraging nod from the professor, I continued.
Reading the first chapters of the Charms textbook, I came across the following phrase: ‘…casting spells and recovering from them is much easier in the magical world than in the Muggle world.
This is due to the free mana in the air.
There is much more of it in the magical world than in the Muggle world.’ From this phrase, and from the difference between magical and semi-magical plants, I drew a conclusion.
The growth of magical plants depends entirely on mana, or rather, on its quantity.
After all, as it was said in the Herbology textbook, wizards can feed magical plants with their own mana.
Perhaps magical plants simply don’t have enough mana to grow, which is why they die.
Am I right, Professor?
If not, please correct me.”
“Bravo, Mr.
Massimo, bravo,” the professor said, clapping her hands lightly.
“Twenty points to Ravenclaw.
Your answer is exemplary.
You not only read and learned the required material, but you were also able to connect it with material from a completely different subject.
But you know what?
Your answer was incomplete.
Otherwise, I would have given you twenty-five points.
You are absolutely right.
For magical plants to grow, they need mana just as much as they need water or nutrients.
Without it, they simply die.
Semi-magical plants can live without mana.
But that’s not all.
If semi-magical plants grow without mana, they will lose their magical properties.
But if you transplant them back into the magical world or start sharing your mana with them, they will eventually regain some of their magical properties.
Their offspring will have the full range of these properties, provided they are magically saturated.
Is everything clear now?
Any questions?”
There were no questions.
And so our lessons went.
The professor enthusiastically talked about her subject, and we listened to her words.
From her manner of speech and the emotions that simply poured out of her, it was clear that Miss Sprout lived for her subject.
The same could be said about Neville.
He was simply bubbling over with joy and impatience.
It was immediately obvious that he was in his element.
Interestingly, we were sitting near various magical plants, and Neville was sitting near the Devil’s Snare.
What was I getting at?
Neville was stroking the Devil’s Snare.
As it said in the textbook, Devil’s Snare is a plant that requires total control.
It can only be grown if it is at a distance from the wizard himself.
Neville was the complete opposite.
Not only did the Devil’s Snare not attack him, but it also shared its mana with him, and he did the same in return.
This was simply incredible.
Perhaps Neville’s family were descendants of druids?
Or was the boy himself an exception?
I’d have to find out.
So, thinking about this situation, while also listening to the professor, I spent the two lessons.
***
At the end of Herbology, we waited for the prefect and headed to lunch.
Nothing remarkable happened at lunch, except that the children were overly active, especially the first-years.
At the Gryffindor table, a real storm was raging.
Shouting, arguing, laughing, you name it.
Flying food was there, too, but not from Ron, of course.
He was just clumsy, but food didn’t fly from him.
It was much simpler: the twins.
They had enchanted the food to fly away from the children.
Another prank from the young pranksters.
After lunch, we followed the prefect to the Charms classroom, to our head of house.
Leading us to the door, Clearwater left us, saying she would pick us up after class.
Again, the same situation repeated itself.
As before the greenhouse, no one opened the door.
Now all the representatives of my house were looking at me expectantly.
With a resigned sigh, I pushed the door open and entered the classroom.
What could I say about the classroom?
Well, first, it was rectangular, surprisingly.
The room was set up like an auditorium.
Along the wall, in a semicircle, were tiered benches.
On the opposite wall from us was a door, probably leading to the professor’s office.
The podium was made of books.
Rowling was right about that.
A whole mountain of books, on top of which was a small chair and a table, just the right size for our professor.
Looking at the mountain of books, you could read the titles of some of them.
There were both books from our Hogwarts booklist and many others.
In a place of honor, near the leg of the chair, was Gilderoy Lockhart’s book, “Magical Me.” Apparently, our professor didn’t have a very high opinion of that particular representative of magical society.
As soon as all the children, including me, had taken their seats on the benches, the bell rang, signaling the start of the lesson.
After the bell, the door leading to the professor’s office opened.
Through the doorway came our head of house, Filius Flitwick.
Climbing onto his improvised podium, he glanced at us and said:
“Good morning, class.
I’m glad to see you in Charms.
I can see the joy and impatience on your faces.
The fire in your eyes burns unquenchably.
Those who have read the books know what we’ll be doing in these lessons.
Others don’t have a clue, do they?”
As if in answer to his question, some students nodded.
Surprisingly, there were even a couple of people from my house.
“You probably think that right now, at this very moment, we’ll take out our wands and start casting spells, don’t you?” Some nodded.
“I’m afraid I have to disappoint you.
We’re not going to do that.”
Some of the children immediately wilted.
They expected magic, sorcery, but the professor had just dashed their dreams.
“In my lessons, for the first month, we will only study theory and practice wand movements.
Yes, that’s what we’ll be doing.
Don’t be upset.
This month will fly by unnoticed.
But imagine, after a month, you’ll be able to conjure water, fire, and light with a wave of your wand.
You’ll be able to lift objects into the air.
You’ll create fireworks.
The girls will be able to style their hair without a comb and take care of it without any tools.
The boys will be able to play without using their hands and play pranks on each other.
Isn’t that incredible?
Isn’t it?”
I was applauding internally, of course.
A top-tier professor.
First, he shattered their dreams and expectations, then, by contrast, he was able to cheer them up and motivate every single one of them.
And most importantly, he himself felt these same emotions.
As they say, “I take my hat off to you, Professor.”
The smiles on the children’s faces showed their attitude toward this.
To take away something important, then give it back, only slightly changed.
The children’s enthusiasm was so palpable you could cut it with a knife.
“Well, enough daydreaming.
Let’s get back to the topic of our lesson,” the professor said, waving his hand to stop the whispering in the room. This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
“Charms.
What is it?
Just another discipline, or something more?
Today, I will try to explain it to you.”
A wave of his wand, and the world took on new features.
Badgers appeared in the air, ravens flew above them, and somewhere in the distance, a lurking dragon peered out.
All this against the backdrop of a setting sun in the sky.
“Charms.
At first glance, one of the simplest magical disciplines.
After all, how are charms performed?
A wave of the wand, a code word, and the spell is ready.” With a wave of his wand, the professor turned the creatures into a bright firework.
“At the beginner level, spells like Lumos, Nox, and Wingardium Leviosa don’t require anything extraordinary.
Just a wave, a word, and belief.
Those are the three components of not only charms, but also other magical disciplines.
Who can say which of these is the priority?”
The children were silent.
None of them knew the answer, because they were unaware of the requirements for wandless magic.
Although, that’s not entirely true: some of the children from aristocratic families knew, but they weren’t going to speak.
Slowly, a child’s hand went up.
My hand.
Most of the eyes were on me again.
How I hate being in the spotlight, but I’ll have to live up to it.
“Oh, Mr.
Massimo.
You know the answer?
Well then, tell us, which of these three is the priority?”
Slowly getting up from my seat, I glanced around the room and began my answer.
“Gesture, word, and belief.
The three pillars that support wand magic.
As you know, the first stage of mastering spells is called verbal.
In this case, two pillars are used to create a spell.” I looked at the professor questioningly and saw his approving nod.
“sigh.
Next, the so-called second level, non-verbal.
In this method, the wizard abandons the gesture.
No conductor’s symphony is needed, just a wave or pointing the wand at the target.
Next come silent spells.
This method includes only belief.
Because only belief in yourself, in your abilities, and in your knowledge turns ordinary wizards into great wizards.” As if illustrating my words, the professor performed the various methods of using charms that I had mentioned.
“Belief is the main step in mastering wandless magic.
Only if a wizard knows, can, and believes, only then can he master this method of using charms.”
With a snap of his fingers, all the illusions Flitwick had conjured disappeared.
The aristocratic children looked in surprise at the half-goblin, who had just used the non-verbal, wandless Nox spell in front of them.
“That’s right, Kael.
You’re absolutely right.
Twenty points to Ravenclaw.” Flitwick held his gaze on me for a moment, then smiled a toothy smile.
“As Mr.
Massimo said, the main thing in magic is belief in yourself and your abilities.
And what, if not knowledge, is a reflection of a wizard’s power, right?
So study, study, and study again.
I hope you will be strong wizards, not appendages to your wands.”
Having said that, the professor kicked Lockhart’s book.
Respect was simply pouring out of the kind half-goblin.
And so the Charms lesson went.
During it, the professor talked about safety techniques and used magic to demonstrate what happens when those rules are broken.
The two lessons flew by unnoticed.
*
*
*
After Charms, we had a planned tour of the castle, provided by our prefects.
During the tour, a significant incident occurred.
You see, some of the children had read about the history of Hogwarts.
It mentioned its secrets, its mysteries, and the secret passages that students use.
Because of this, the children had questions about where these passages were.
Who could know them, if not the prefects?
So Anthony was bombarded with this question.
He answered:
“Secret passages?
Of course they exist,” the prefect began with a smile.
“All of Hogwarts is riddled with them.
Some allow you to bypass the infamous moving staircases, others get you to your classes faster.
There are even some that lead outside the castle walls.” All the children listened attentively.
How could they not?
They were being entrusted with such important information.
But Anthony continued.
“But I’m afraid I have to disappoint you.
No one is going to show them to you.
And don’t even hope.”
With that, he stared intently at us.
“But why?” Terry Boot asked timidly.
A stocky, fair-haired boy with a slightly rough face.
His hands were shaking slightly as he spoke.
“Tradition,” the prefect simply answered.
“After all, there’s a certain romance to wandering around, discovering mysteries and secrets yourself, don’t you think?”
And that was the end of the conversation.
The children, captivated by his words, didn’t notice the look in his eyes, which stood out on his smiling face.
It was clear that this was not a tradition at all.
Either it was common practice throughout the school, or it was a test, or, more likely, that was the attitude in our house.
And yes, sitting in the common room that evening, I noticed that communication between members of our house happened strictly within their own year.
Conversations between years were very rare, and if they did happen, the older students looked at the younger ones with a cold, calculating gaze.
As if you were an individual who wanted to steal something from them.
It looked like this house was perfect for me.
With that attitude, they definitely wouldn’t mess with me.
***
Running through my memories of the day, I continued to think.
The first thing I managed to do was to show myself.
Now, from the side of the Ravens and Badgers, there shouldn’t be any questions.
To them, I was either a show-off or a nerd.
I needed to stick to the second option, and if they asked for help, I would help as much as I could.
The performance of my role was beginning.
I’d tweak it as I went along.
Second, the house turned out to be even better than I expected.
Not only are they all individualists, but they also treat each other with suspicion.
I don’t bother them, they don’t interfere in my affairs.
Perfect.
Third, there was an unforgivable amount of time after classes.
I spent no more than forty minutes per lesson, and I still had a ton of free time.
I’d have to use it.
The library and the Room of Requirement came to mind.
I’d probably start next week.
Having drawn up an approximate plan in my head, I finished my training and meditation and went to bed.
I never understood the English fetish for pajamas.