As Professor Flitwick had said, the Wand-Lighting Charm was very basic.
Once they knew the incantation and the wand movement, along with a few tips from Flitwick, the young witches and wizards quickly got the hang of it.
The classroom was dotted with flickering points of light. To make the glow more visible, the professor thoughtfully drew the curtains.
A bright orb of light appeared at the tip of Wayne's wand—moderate in brightness and perfectly steady, unlike the others, whose lights wavered unpredictably.
"Excellent, Mr Lawrence. Two points to Hufflepuff," Professor Flitwick said as he approached, offering a word of praise.
Though he didn't seem overly excited.
After all, the Lumos spell was too simple—just a bit of practice was enough to master it. Flitwick had only awarded the points because Wayne's light was large, round, and long-lasting, a small encouragement.
Hermione shot a sidelong glance, raised her chin with a disdainful sniff, and recited the spell.
Her wand tip lit up, though not as large as Wayne's, and far too bright, almost blinding.
When the young witch tried to dim it slightly, her lack of control over her magical power caused the spell to fizzle out entirely.
"Pfft."
Wayne couldn't help but chuckle at the sight.
"What's so funny? You're just a bit more practised than me," Hermione huffed before casting Lumos again.
This time, the result was even worse—her wand flickered once before going dark.
"You need a calm mindset for stable output," Wayne advised. "Now then, Miss Granger, care to explain how I've managed to upset you this time?"
Hermione replied sourly, "Why bother with me? Go find your Ravenclaw senior instead."
???
Wayne was utterly baffled.
'First, Cho and I had only exchanged a few words—how had Hermione even seen us?'
'Second—little witch, what's with that tone? There's nothing between us yet.'
"Wait—" Hermione quickly realised how her words sounded and hurried to explain, "The first time we met, you tried to swindle me out of money, but with that Ravenclaw, you—"
"What nonsense! What absolute nonsense!" Wayne glanced around, relieved to see Flitwick had moved further away.
"Swindle you? I was doing a good deed!"
"Knowledge is priceless. Two Sickles for a whole week with those books—tell me that wasn't a bargain."
"It was," Hermione admitted reflexively, though something still felt off.
"Exactly! I only lent them to you because I could see how much you love learning."
"I swear, if Cho asked to borrow them, I'd refuse."
Another round of smooth-talking later, Hermione couldn't help but smile, completely missing the fact that Wayne was casually calling Cho by her first name.
For the entire double period, the young witches and wizards practised their spells. Toby trudged over, frustrated.
"Wayne, any tips for keeping the light steady? Mine's flashing like a police siren—it's driving me mad."
"Well..." Wayne mused for a moment. "Imagine you're not holding a wand, but a flashlight. Focus on that thought."
Toby nodded thoughtfully and returned to his seat.
"What did Wayne say?" Norman asked.
They shared the same problem—their lights flickered incessantly, one like a police car, the other like an ambulance.
"Wayne said to imagine I'm holding a flashlight, not a wand, and concentrate."
"Then I'll give it a try." Norman nodded, raising his wand high with a great flourish and bellowing, "Lumos!"
Boom!
Light appeared—but it was firelight.
A serpent made of flames erupted, startling Professor Flitwick, who hastily summoned a jet of water to extinguish it.
What talent.
Wayne was utterly impressed. His roommate was no ordinary bloke—casting a Fire-Making Spell while reciting the Wand-Lighting Charm.
'In a duel, that would be downright sneaky.'
"Mr Sherlock, Mr Lawrence's method is correct, but you mustn't get overexcited. You're meant to raise the flashlight, not hurl it across the room," Professor Flitwick explained, still shaken. He, too, had been startled, though thankfully the wand had been pointed upwards.
Had it been aimed at someone, Madam Pomfrey would have been complaining to him again.
After a few more reminders, Professor Flitwick resumed patrolling the classroom, helping the young witches and wizards master the spell.
He'd thought Norman was bad enough—but little did he know, the real spectacle was yet to come.
"Mr Finnigan, loosen your grip—you're about to snap your wand in half. Pause between incantations—Lumos. Remember the rhythm."
No wonder Professor Flitwick had won Hogwarts' Most Popular Teacher award sixteen years running.
Patient, good-tempered, and generous with practical opportunities—no wonder everyone adored him.
Even Seamus, who had been tense earlier, relaxed under Flitwick's reassurance. Confidently lifting his chin, he raised his wand like a conductor's baton, tracing an elegant arc through the air.
His deskmate Neville watched eagerly, while Flitwick offered an encouraging nod. "Seamus—"
Wayne's brow furrowed, a sense of foreboding creeping over him. 'Bloody hell, isn't this the infamous demolition expert?'
He and Hermione were only one table away from Seamus and Neville, separated by Norman and Toby. As Seamus began his incantation, Wayne's unease grew.
"Lumos!"
"Get down!"
Without thinking, Wayne yanked Hermione aside. The young witch lost her balance and tumbled into his arms.
Almost simultaneously—BOOM!
A deafening blast filled the room as a violent explosion engulfed the Charms classroom.
A dozen young witches shrieked, nearly piercing eardrums.
At the epicentre, Seamus and Neville were left with soot-blackened faces and hair standing on end. Professor Flitwick, being short, had narrowly escaped the worst—but being closest to the blast, his hearing had temporarily gone.
"Burp!"
Seamus let out a belch, exhaling two smoke rings, his eyes shining with oblivious delight.
"Professor! Did you see? It lit up!"
"WHAT?!" Professor Flitwick bellowed.
"I SAID—IT—LIT UP!"
Flitwick staggered, nearly toppling over. "Well done! Now never do that again!"