Chapter 19: Charms Class
The Charms classroom was on the seventh floor of the castle, windows facing east. When morning light slanted in, you could see dust motes drifting through the air.
Regulus sat in the second row of the Slytherin section. Avery Cuthbert was to his right; Alex Rosier sat one empty seat to his left.
The latter was nervously flipping through "The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1," muttering the pronunciation of the Levitation Charm under his breath.
"Relax, Rosier," Avery said with a sidelong glance, lightly mocking. "Professor Flitwick isn't going to eat you."
"I just... want to make sure the pronunciation's right," Alex said quietly.
The classroom door creaked open, and Professor Filius Flitwick practically floated in — he was so small that he needed to stand on a stack of thick books just to see over the lectern.
But the moment he settled, those bright eyes sweeping the room, everyone went quiet.
"Good morning, children!" Flitwick's voice was high-pitched but clear. "Today we shall learn the most fundamental of charms — the Levitation Charm! A spell that appears simple, yet contains the very essence of magic!"
He flicked his wand and a white feather drifted out of a box on the desk, hovering in the center of the classroom.
"Now, repeat after me!" Flitwick raised his wand. "Win-GAR-dium Levi-O-sa! Three things to note: the arc of the wrist, the long stress on 'O,' and the final 'sa' is a light breath."
A feather waited on each desk. The room filled with a ragged chorus of incantations.
Regulus raised his wand gently. "Wingardium Leviosa."
Voice steady, gesture precise. The feather rose slowly, as steady as if suspended from an invisible thread, and hung motionless in front of him.
"Perfect! Five points to Slytherin!" Professor Flitwick nearly leapt off his stack of books. He hurried over and peered up at the feather.
"Look at that stability! No wobble at all! Mister Black, have you practiced this before?"
The same question as Professor McGonagall's.
"I simply listened carefully to your instructions, Professor," Regulus said modestly.
"Wonderful! Splendid!" Flitwick waved his small hands excitedly.
"Mister Black, perhaps you could demonstrate for the class?"
"Of course." Regulus gave the professor a slight bow, let the feather descend, and spoke the incantation again: "Wingardium Leviosa."
Under everyone's gaze, the feather floated up once more, to exactly the same height.
"Watch the gesture!" Flitwick announced to the rest. "Pronunciation matters, but the gesture is equally important. Remember — it is an arc!"
Regulus let the feather settle softly back on the desk, then looked at Flitwick. "Professor, I have a question."
"Ask! Go right ahead, my boy!"
"Professor, I was wondering — when the Levitation Charm acts on an object, does it strip away the object's weight, or does it construct an invisible support out of magic?
If the former, does the object's mass still exist? If the latter, is the magical support distributed evenly, or concentrated at a specific part of the object?"
The classroom fell instantly silent. Students turned to stare.
They had been thinking only about how to get the feather airborne. The principle behind it had never crossed their minds — for them, a working spell was enough.
Yet Regulus's question aimed to expose the very nature of the charm.
Professor Flitwick pushed his small round spectacles up his nose, a gleam of appreciation in his eyes. "What an exquisite question! Very few first-years think at the level of a spell's underlying mechanism."
He flicked his wand and a feather from the lectern floated up, paused in the air, then drifted back down. "The answer is — both. But at its core, it is a balance between magic and an object's mass.
The Levitation Charm does not truly strip away weight. Mass is an object's essential property — just as our souls cannot be separated from our bodies, magic cannot erase it."
"What we do is apply magic to the object." The tip of his wand pointed at the hovering feather, and a faint ring of silver light appeared around it.
"A wizard's magic repels gravity while wrapping uniformly around every corner of the object — like dressing it in a cloak woven from magical energy.
The support points are distributed; that is what ensures the object hovers smoothly without tipping or tumbling."
Regulus inclined his head, then pressed further: "But what if the object's mass changes?
Say a water droplet lands on the hovering feather — would the magic adjust automatically, or would the caster need to redirect it?"
"A brilliant extension!" Flitwick's voice rose with growing enthusiasm. "Magic and the caster are linked. When the object's mass changes, the magic senses it immediately and adjusts on its own.
But this requires the caster to maintain focus — the connection with the magic must not be broken."
He looked at Regulus, smiling warmly. "If concentration lapses, the magic collapses. The object either falls or drifts off-course under the extra weight.
That you can think of this tells me you have not merely mastered the spell — you are actively reasoning about it. That is the hallmark of a truly great wizard."
"Thank you, Professor Flitwick. I learned a great deal from this," Regulus said sincerely.
Flitwick tilted his head up. "Keep thinking, Mister Black. Another five points to Slytherin!"
The Slytherins murmured excitedly among themselves. The Ravenclaws, too, watched with keen interest.
Regulus understood that Flitwick's explanation reflected the traditional wizarding view. But from his own perspective, it looked more like an interaction between a magical field and a gravitational field.
He simply could not use those terms.
Flitwick moved on to supervise the other students. The classroom once again echoed with staggered cries of "Wingardium Leviosa" — white feathers leaping violently, listing sideways, or refusing to budge.
Alex Rosier was on his seventh attempt.
His feather either quivered a few times and lay still, or rocketed into the ceiling before plummeting limply back down.
On the last try, the feather even produced a wisp of smoke.
"Stop," Regulus said.
Alex jumped. "Wh-what?"
Regulus moved to his side. "Professor Flitwick said to draw an arc — but you're bobbing up and down. Watch."
He rolled his wrist, guiding the wand through a soft, flowing arc. "Magic should be effortless. You're hammering at an anvil."
Alex flushed. "I... I was worried I wasn't putting enough force into it."
"The Levitation Charm doesn't need force. It needs precision." Regulus lowered his hand. "Try again. Keep the motion smooth and sustained — no breaks."
Regulus kept adjusting his posture. Alex was not stupid — he was just nervous.
Perhaps the discomfort of a mild-mannered branch family being thrown in with mainline pure-bloods?
Regulus pondered this. He needed people like Alex — gentle, pure-blood.
Alex took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a few seconds.
"Win-GAR-dium Levi-O-sa."
This time his wrist traced a passable arc. The feather wobbled, left the desk by about two inches, and hovered for three seconds before settling.
"I did it!" Alex's eyes shone.
"Not bad." Regulus nodded. "But your magic still has resistance — you weren't decisive enough when casting. Keep practicing."
Alex nodded vigorously and looked at Regulus with gratitude.
'Maybe Black's not as frightening as I thought?'
He returned to his seat. Avery leaned over and whispered: "You're too patient with him."
Regulus glanced at Avery. "Cuthbert, do you know why, on the Black family tapestry, the names that survive beside the burned-off ones are often inconspicuous?"
Avery frowned. "...Because they're branch members? Not important enough?"
"Because when the main line did something foolish, it was the branches that preserved the family's bloodline," Regulus said evenly.
He surveyed the room as though shopping for idiots. "And you can never guarantee the main line won't produce a fool."
The pure-bloods within earshot stifled snorts. The half-bloods and Muggle-borns stared in bewilderment at the inexplicably amused group.
Avery fell silent.
"Besides," Regulus's voice was low, but pitched just right for nearby students to hear, "thirty years from now, when we look back on Hogwarts, we won't only remember who made a feather fly the highest, or who sat steadiest on a broom.
We'll also remember who sat beside us in class, who copied homework with us, and who talked with us about dreams after lights-out."
These words drifted to the ears of Professor Flitwick, who was making his rounds.
The tiny professor paused. He looked up at Regulus, something flickering in his eyes. His lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he merely tapped the lectern lightly with his wand.
"Homework is best done on your own, Mister Black."
The classroom erupted in laughter.