Before class ended, Professor McGonagall assigned seven inches of homework.
She also emphasized extra practice—she expected visible improvement next lesson.
After an entire class of wand-waving, whether their Transfiguration improved or not was questionable—
but their arms definitely felt stronger.
Lewis noticed Ron sulking as he packed his things.
"I swear my matchstick was defective. It didn't change at all!"
Harry shrugged helplessly. "Mine just rolled over…"
Then—
both of them turned to Lewis.
Their eyes filled with quiet resentment.
The kind that came from struggling students toward a top performer.
They had shared a train compartment.
So why was he the only one excelling?
Lewis shivered slightly.
He could already feel it—
a thick, invisible wall had formed between him and them.
At one in the afternoon, it was time for Charms.
This time, they shared the class with Slytherin.
In fact, every subject was shared between two Houses, with different pairings each time.
Lewis quickly realized—
this was intentional.
Hogwarts sorted students by personality, not specialization.
Without interaction, it would be easy for Houses to become isolated—and even hostile.
So shared classes ensured connections between them.
The Charms classroom was located along the fourth-floor corridor.
On the way, they passed Filch and his cat, Mrs. Norris.
Since the right side of the corridor was forbidden, Filch patrolled here frequently, hoping to catch rule-breakers.
No one wanted detention.
Everyone obediently turned left.
Inside, desks were arranged in two rows, students facing each other.
Professor Filius Flitwick stood at the front—
on top of a stack of books.
He was astonishingly small.
Rumors said he had goblin ancestry.
But there was no doubt—
he was a master of Charms.
Even a former dueling champion.
Lewis fully believed it.
After all—
his small size made him hard to hit.
Flitwick was as lively as Penelope had described.
When he called out Harry's name—
he let out an excited squeak and promptly fell off his stack of books.
"Now then, class! Open The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1…"
His voice was sharp, but clear.
Unlike arcane mages—
Wizards had a fragmented, intuitive understanding of magic.
Everyone had their own interpretation.
But the core principles were consistent:
Magic required two elements—
Magic power and will.
Magic power was the raw material.
Will was the machine.
Together, they produced magic.
The wand focused magic.
Gestures and incantations weren't just instructions—
they were psychological cues.
They helped the caster concentrate and channel intent.
For beginners, this system was extremely convenient.
Follow the steps—
and the spell worked.
Even without understanding it.
But with mastery—
things changed.
Once a wizard internalized a spell completely—
they no longer needed gestures or words.
They could cast silently.
Even without a wand.
That was wandless and silent casting.
However—
Mastering a single spell, no matter how deeply, still made you just a user.
A true master—
understood the essence of spells.
They could break them down.
Reconstruct them.
Create new magic.
This was why Lewis admired Severus Snape.
A genius.
Not just in Potions—
but also in Occlumency and Legilimency.
And most importantly—
spell creation.
While still a student, Snape invented multiple original spells.
And not just any spells—
universal spells.
Spells that others could learn and use effectively.
That was rare.
Most invented spells were tailored to their creators—
dependent on personal traits, habits, or even aptitude.
Others couldn't replicate them properly.
But Snape's spells—
were different.
Take Levicorpus—
still widely used.
And then—
Sectumsempra.
A masterpiece.
Deadly.
Persistent bleeding.
Unhealable wounds.
Invisible attacks.
Unlike flashy dark magic—
it gave no warning.
Just—
damage.
Efficient.
Silent.
Perfect.
Lewis sighed slightly.
If not for Lily Potter—
Snape might have become a Dark Arts master rivaling Dumbledore.
Far beyond Voldemort.
With such a predecessor—
Lewis had no intention of aiming low.
With his extraordinary comprehension—
his standards had to be higher.
He set himself a small goal:
Double the number of universal spells before graduation.
But even the grandest ambition—
started with the basics.
The first spell of Charms class:
The Wand-Lighting Charm.
"Who can tell me the incantation?" Flitwick asked.
Silence.
Lewis immediately raised his hand.
"Lumos."
Supporting your own Head of House was only natural.
"Excellent pronunciation! Five points to Ravenclaw!"
Practice began.
Lewis had already mastered this spell—
and even developed an upgraded version.
He cast it effortlessly.
A clean, steady light appeared.
"Perfect execution! Another five points to Ravenclaw!"
Ravenclaws were intelligent—
but not particularly competitive.
They lacked the desire to show off.
Which often caused them to lose the House Cup—
despite having the best students.
But now—
they had Lewis.
aptitudeed.
And willing to perform.
During free practice, Lewis approached Flitwick for guidance on advanced applications of the spell.
Flitwick, naturally, was happy to help his standout student.
[You have learned Lumos Maxima.]
[With your Arcane understanding, you comprehend its essence and improve it.]
[Your spell has evolved into: Daylight Spell.]
[Daylight Spell: Illuminates an area as bright as day. The light mimics sunlight, capable of repelling creatures such as vampires.]
Lewis smiled faintly.
Another step—
toward his goal.