Footsteps thundered down the corridor.
Professor McGonagall led the charge, wand raised, jaw set in battle-ready resolve. Snape followed close behind, black robes sweeping like storm clouds. Flitwick and the others were equally prepared for combat.
They burst into the ruined bathroom—
And stopped dead.
No blood.
No screams.
No desperate struggle.
Instead—
A mountain troll floated midair.
Its massive limbs flailed weakly, rotating slowly like an absurd puppet suspended by invisible strings.
Below it stood Harry, Ron, and Hermione—motionless, staring upward in stunned disbelief.
And at the center of it all stood Lucian Thornwick.
Calm.
Unruffled.
Untouched by chaos.
McGonagall's voice failed her for a moment.
"This… what is…?"
Even she, seasoned by decades of magical crises, could not immediately process the scene.
Snape's eyes locked onto the troll.
It was not stunned.
Not restrained by ropes.
Not bound by chains.
It was suspended.
Perfectly.
Impossible.
A Levitation Charm could not lift a creature of that mass.
Certainly not with such stability.
All eyes turned to Lucian.
"Mr. Thornwick," McGonagall said at last, her voice tight with restrained shock. "Explain."
Lucian turned slightly toward them, expression serene.
"It is nothing serious," he said mildly. "I was merely testing a spell I developed recently."
He paused.
"It is called Gravity Reversal."
Silence detonated in the room.
"Another self-created spell?" Flitwick squeaked, nearly hopping in place.
McGonagall's breath caught.
Snape's face went utterly still.
They remembered the flight spell.
The potion reformulation.
And now—
A combat spell capable of overriding gravitational law itself.
This was no clever variation of existing magic.
This was foundational manipulation.
Gravity.
A constant.
Untouched by conventional charms.
Lucian glanced upward at the slowly rotating troll, as if evaluating a laboratory sample.
"Energy output stable. Spatial cohesion within acceptable limits. Control over high-mass organic targets confirmed."
He sounded as though reading experimental notes.
Harry stared at him as if seeing him for the first time.
Hermione's mind raced desperately to categorize what she had witnessed—and failed.
Ron simply whispered, "Blimey…"
Lucian lowered his hand slightly.
The troll froze in place.
Then he looked toward Snape.
"Professor, I believe this is now under staff jurisdiction."
He snapped his fingers.
The field collapsed.
Gravity returned.
The troll plummeted.
It hit the stone floor with a thunderous crash that shook the walls and cracked the tiles in a web of fractures.
Dust exploded outward.
When it settled, the mountain troll lay unconscious in a crater of its own making.
Lucian did not spare it another glance.
He walked past the professors calmly, hands slipping into his robe pockets.
No triumph.
No tension.
Just quiet completion.
Within seconds, he disappeared down the corridor.
Leaving behind:
Three shattered first-years.
A demolished bathroom.
And several of Hogwarts' most accomplished professors questioning the limits of magical theory.
That night, the castle ignited with rumor.
"He lifted it without a wand!"
"It wasn't Levitation—it was something else!"
"They said he twisted gravity!"
"Second self-created spell already!"
"Is he even human?"
Gryffindor erupted in celebration.
Slytherin simmered in tight-lipped silence.
Ravenclaw buzzed with feverish analysis.
Hufflepuff spoke his name with awe.
In the Headmaster's office, McGonagall delivered her report.
Dumbledore listened quietly.
When she finished, he rose and walked to the window, gazing at the stars.
For a long time, he said nothing.
At last, he spoke softly.
"Minerva… we were mistaken."
His blue eyes reflected starlight—and something deeper.
"We underestimated him."
He folded his hands behind his back.
"Lucian Thornwick is not merely a prodigy."
A faint smile touched his lips.
"He may well be the turning point of an age."