As Richie's pen glided across the paper, the black smoke from the candle's incomplete combustion slowly clung to the parchment, tracing the path of his nib.
Though the first symbol was short, drawing it was incredibly exhausting.
It didn't feel like writing; it felt like carving into a solid stone tablet with a chisel.
Fortunately, Richie was prepared for the strain.
He didn't know how much time had passed when he finally stopped. The candle burned out at the exact moment he finished the final stroke.
At the same time, a sharp ping rang out—like metal swords clashing—and the first alchemical symbol he had drawn, [ص], flashed with a brilliant white light.
"Phew. Finally got it," Richie smiled.
He picked up the palm-sized piece of paper to inspect his work. The back of the parchment was completely free of any soot marks, while the front displayed the symbol, resting flawlessly on the page.
Richie carefully rolled it up and placed it inside a small iron box.
This was his very first alchemical "creation," and he obviously wanted to keep it safe. But since his entire trunk study was made of wood, he didn't want to risk a random fire reducing his books to ash. The iron box was the safest bet for now.
Speaking of the iron box, it reminded Richie of old Mody in the Hogwarts kitchen.
The Christmas gift Mody had packed into that box had successfully reached Newt Scamander.
Mr. Scamander was still alive and kicking. Wizards lived a remarkably long time, and even at ninety-five, Scamander was in great shape. He had written a letter back, expressing how deeply moved he was to receive a gift from Mody after all these years. He also extended his heartfelt thanks to the young wizards who had helped deliver it.
To show his appreciation, he sent them a few journals detailing some of his more interesting encounters with magical creatures. He also mentioned that he planned to visit Hogwarts soon to catch up with old friends and meet the kids.
It was also worth noting that his grandson, Rolf Scamander, was currently attending Hogwarts as a first-year in Hufflepuff.
After receiving the reply from his "cute freckles," Mody was absolutely thrilled. Not only did his enthusiasm in the kitchen skyrocket, but he also tracked down the Starlight Sanctum and started serving the group completely free of charge.
He cleaned the room, brought in extra braziers for lighting, and even delivered snacks (courtesy of Tchenya).
His excessive devotion made Neville and the others incredibly uncomfortable. Hermione, right from the start, completely blew up over it, calling it blatant exploitation of house-elves.
In the end, Richie had to step in. He stopped Mody's over-the-top behavior and established a strict three-point agreement with the elf to put the matter to rest.
Even so, it was obvious that this had left a knot in Hermione's heart—not regarding the Starlight Sanctum itself, but regarding the wizarding world's overall treatment and attitude toward house-elves.
Thinking about it, Richie could only shake his head.
He put the iron box away, stood up, and stretched lazily before climbing out of his trunk study.
It was currently 9:00 AM on a Saturday.
The young wizards were out running wild around the castle.
Terry had headed down to the Quidditch pitch to watch the Ravenclaw team practice. With spring arriving, the remaining three Quidditch matches of the term were coming up fast, and every house was scrambling to train.
Anthony had gone down to the Black Lake with a "sketching club" made up of older girls from various houses. But the way Richie saw it, Anthony wasn't there for the scenery—he was definitely just there for the girls.
Stephen's whereabouts were straightforward: he had spent the entire weekend holed up in the library.
After cleaning himself up, Richie left the dorm and headed for the Ravenclaw Head of House's office to take his exam.
Yes, an exam.
Over the Christmas break, Richie had decided to start learning at his own pace for the new term, and he had stuck to that plan. In just two months, he had completely finished the entire first-year curriculum.
Naturally, that meant it was time to move on to the second-year material.
Richie had asked Professor Flitwick for the second-year syllabus and, ideally, to borrow a full set of the required textbooks.
Flitwick was shocked by how fast Richie was progressing, but given Richie's consistently outstanding performance, he realized it wasn't impossible.
Instead of just handing the books over, Flitwick coordinated with the other professors to design a personalized exam just for him.
The exam would be incredibly difficult, but if Richie passed, Flitwick would provide him with all the second-year study materials. On top of that, he promised Richie a special reward—though he would still be required to take the standard final exams at the end of the year.
Taking a test to earn a reward?
Richie gladly accepted the deal. It was the perfect opportunity to test his knowledge and see if he had missed anything.
Which brought him to today: the start of his personalized first-year exams.
Hogwarts Castle. Ravenclaw Head of House Office.
"Richie, the test in front of you covers the entirety of the first-year curriculum across all subjects," Professor Flitwick said seriously. "You have exactly two hours to complete the written portion. Once the time is up, you will visit the other professors' offices for your practical magic assessments."
Sitting at a solitary desk, Richie nodded earnestly.
"Understood, Professor."
Seeing that Richie was ready, Flitwick gave his wand a flick. A scroll of parchment flew onto Richie's desk.
When Richie unrolled it, the bottom of the scroll dropped off the edge of the desk and rolled all the way across the floor.
Without wasting time marveling at the sheer length of the test, Richie buried his head and started writing.
The minutes ticked by. The only sound in the office was the rapid scratching of Richie's quill.
Exactly two hours later, Richie finished the exam right at the buzzer.
Flitwick immediately collected the parchment and began grading it on the spot.
Richie stood up quietly and stretched his arms and legs, warming up for the upcoming practical Charms test.
"Excellent. Truly excellent."
Finishing the written portion for Charms, Flitwick couldn't hide his admiration. He looked up at Richie, paused for a moment, and said, "Let's move on to the practical Charms assessment. I'll give you your final score once you finish."
"After that, follow the subject order on the exam and take your paper to the other professors for grading."
With a wave of his wand, the single desk and chair in the middle of the office transfigured into several testing props.
"Go ahead, Richie. Wands out. Let's begin."
Richie raised his wand and flawlessly executed the spells in the exact order he had learned them. He chanted the incantations, and under the effects of his magic, the props rapidly shifted and reacted.
When it was all over, Professor Flitwick took a bottle of red ink and drew a massive "O" next to the Charms section of Richie's exam.
"Fantastic work! Off you go to the next professor."
Richie bowed politely to Professor Flitwick before leaving the office, taking his exam with him as he headed toward the Gryffindor Head of House office—Professor McGonagall's domain—for his Transfiguration test.
Watching Richie walk away, Flitwick let out a sigh he'd breathed countless times before.
"It has been a very long time since I've seen a student this talented and hardworking. Truly fitting for Ravenclaw's Seven-Pointed Star."