Chapter 19: Charms Class
The Charms classroom sat high on the seventh floor, its tall windows facing east. Morning light slanted across the desks, turning the drifting dust into pale gold specks that floated lazily in the air.
Regulus took his seat in the second row of the Slytherin side. Avery Cuthbert sat to his right, posture relaxed in the way of someone who expected the world to accommodate him. Alex Rosier sat one empty chair away to his left, already flipping through The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 with the intensity of a man preparing for trial.
He mouthed the words under his breath, practising the syllables.
"Relax, Rosier," Avery said, glancing at him with faint disdain. "Professor Flitwick will not eat you."
"I just want to make sure the pronunciation is accurate," Alex whispered, eyes still on the page.
The classroom door creaked open.
Professor Filius Flitwick almost seemed to drift inside, so light on his feet that it looked as if the stone floor barely noticed him. He was so short he needed a stack of thick books on the desk to see over the podium properly.
But when he stilled, bright eyes sweeping the room, the chatter died at once.
"Good morning, children," Flitwick said, voice high but clear, carrying easily. "Today we learn one of the most basic pieces of magic, the Levitation Charm. A spell that appears simple, yet holds the essence of what we do."
He waved his wand. A white feather floated out of a small box and rose into the air, hovering at the front of the room like a polite question waiting to be answered.
"Now, repeat after me," Flitwick said, lifting his wand. "Wingardium Leviosa."
He enunciated each syllable with care.
"Three key points," he continued briskly. "The swish and flick of the wrist, the o is elongated, and the sa is a light exhale. Like a sigh, not a shove."
A feather lay on every desk. The classroom filled with uneven chanting, wand movements that ranged from timid to theatrical.
Regulus raised his wand.
"Wingardium Leviosa."
His voice was steady. His wrist traced the motion with quiet precision.
The feather rose.
Not in a jump, not in a wobble, but slowly and smoothly, as if an invisible thread had drawn it upward. It hovered motionless in front of him, perfectly stable.
"Perfect," Professor Flitwick exclaimed. "Five points to Slytherin."
He practically hopped off his stack of books and hurried over, craning his head back to inspect the feather from beneath.
"Look at that stability. No trembling at all. Mr Black, have you practised this before?"
It was the same question Professor McGonagall had asked, as if every teacher had the same reluctant disbelief prepared for him.
"I listened carefully to your explanation, Professor," Regulus said mildly.
"Good. Very good." Flitwick's small hands fluttered with excitement. "Would you demonstrate for the others, Mr Black?"
"Of course," Regulus said, inclining his head.
He allowed the feather to settle, then repeated the incantation.
"Wingardium Leviosa."
Under the eyes of the class, the feather rose again to the same height, as measured and calm as before.
"Observe the motion," Flitwick called, turning to the room. "Pronunciation matters, but the wand movement cannot be ignored. It is a swish."
Regulus lowered the feather once more, then looked to Flitwick.
"Professor, may I ask a question?"
"Ask. Ask away."
"When the Levitation Charm acts on an object," Regulus said, "does it remove the object's weight, or does it use magic to create an invisible support?"
"If it is the first, does the object's mass still exist?"
"And if it is the second, are those support points spread evenly, or concentrated in one area?"
Silence snapped into place across the classroom.
Most students had never thought beyond making a feather float. To them, the spell either worked or it did not. Regulus's question felt like someone lifting a floorboard and showing them the wiring beneath.
Professor Flitwick adjusted the small round spectacles on his nose, admiration gleaming in his eyes.
"What a sophisticated question," he said. "It is rare for a first year to consider the underlying mechanics of a charm."
He waved his wand gently. A feather at the front of the room rose, hung in the air, then drifted down again as though it had changed its mind.
"The answer is both," Flitwick said. "But the heart of it is balance, the relationship between magic and the object's mass."
"The Levitation Charm does not truly remove weight. Mass is part of what an object is. Just as the soul is not simply separated from the body, magic does not erase mass."
He pointed his wand at the floating feather. A faint, silvery sheen seemed to surround it.
"What we do is apply magic to counter gravity while wrapping that magic evenly around the object, like a light cloak."
"The support is dispersed," he added, voice brightening. "That is why a properly levitated object does not tip and spin. The charm holds it as a whole."
Regulus nodded, then continued without hesitation.
"Then what if the object's mass changes?"
"For example, if a drop of water falls onto a floating feather, does the charm adjust automatically, or must the caster redirect it?"
Flitwick's face lit up as if someone had handed him a gift.
"A brilliant extension," he said, practically glowing. "Magic remains connected to the caster. When mass changes, the magic senses it and adjusts."
"But," he said, lifting a finger, "this requires focus. The connection must be maintained. If your concentration slips, the charm weakens, and the object will fall or drift, pulled by the imbalance."
He looked at Regulus with a gentle smile.
"The fact you thought of this shows you are not only casting, you are thinking. That is how an outstanding wizard is made."
"Thank you, Professor Flitwick," Regulus said, and meant it. "I have learned a great deal."
"Another five points to Slytherin," Flitwick said cheerfully.
Low conversation rippled at once. Slytherins murmured with pleased excitement. Ravenclaws kept glancing over, as if trying to decide whether to admire him or resent him.
Regulus understood that Flitwick's explanation was the traditional model taught in the wizarding world. From his own perspective, it felt closer to an interaction between forces, a field pressing against a field, shaped by intent and control.
He simply lacked the vocabulary to say it in a way they would accept.
Flitwick moved on to check the rest of the class. The room filled again with the rise and fall of incantations.
"Wingardium Leviosa."
Feathers twitched, popped straight up, drifted sideways, slammed into desks, or refused to move at all.
Alex Rosier had already tried seven times.
His feather either trembled like a frightened insect or shot up, smacked the ceiling, and fell limply. On the last attempt, it even produced a thin curl of blue smoke.
"Wait," Regulus said quietly.
Alex flinched. "What is it?"
Regulus stood and stepped over.
"Professor Flitwick told us to draw an arc," he said. "You are yanking up and down. Look."
He demonstrated the wrist movement, smooth and controlled, the wand tracing a gentle curve.
"Magic should be composed," Regulus added, "but you are behaving as if you are striking iron."
Alex's cheeks coloured. "I thought I was not using enough strength."
"The Levitation Charm does not need strength," Regulus said. "It needs precision. Try again. Keep it fluid. No hesitation."
He adjusted Alex's posture slightly, nudging his elbow, guiding the angle of his wrist.
Alex was not stupid. He was simply nervous. Perhaps being a mild mannered pure blood from a lesser branch made him feel out of place among louder, sharper pure bloods.
Regulus found the thought useful.
He needed people like this.
Alex closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
"Wingardium Leviosa."
This time his wrist followed the arc properly. The feather wobbled, lifted two inches, and hovered for three seconds before drifting down.
"I did it," Alex said, eyes shining.
"Not bad," Regulus said, nodding. "But there is still resistance in your magic. You were not firm enough on the cast. Practise."
Alex nodded rapidly, relief written all over him.
Maybe Black is not as terrifying as everyone says.
Regulus returned to his seat.
Avery leaned in, lowering his voice.
"You are too patient with him."
Regulus glanced at him.
"Cuthbert, do you know why, on the Black family tapestry, beside the names that have been burned away, there are often inconspicuous names left untouched?"
Avery frowned. "Because they are branch families. Not important enough."
"Because when the main branch does something foolish," Regulus said evenly, "it is the branches that preserve the bloodline."
His gaze swept the room in a way that suggested he could already see future stupidity forming.
"And you cannot guarantee the main branch will not produce fools."
A few pure bloods nearby snickered. Half bloods and Muggle borns looked at them as if they were laughing at something invisible.
Avery fell silent.
Regulus's voice remained calm, but it carried just far enough for the nearby desks to catch it.
"And thirty years from now, when we look back on Hogwarts, we will not only remember who made the feather fly highest, or who held a broom the steadiest."
"We will remember who sat in class with us. Who shared notes. Who talked about dreams after lights out."
Those words reached Professor Flitwick as he made his rounds.
The tiny professor paused. He looked up at Regulus, something soft and unreadable flickering behind his eyes. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then simply tapped the podium lightly with his wand.
"It is best to do your own homework, Mr Black."
The classroom erupted in laughter.