"High-risk? Interesting," Roger murmured.
He opened the drawer and found it stuffed with all sorts of strange magical objects: a biting teacup, a spoon with legs, a Dungbomb, a Gobstone, and even a bunch of keys whose purpose he could not begin to guess. Some were clearly prank items, but most looked like ordinary magical objects, and there were even a few wands mixed in among them.
"Filch is obviously a Squib, so where did these wands come from?" Roger asked curiously.
He picked one up, gave it two experimental waves, and threw it back when nothing useful happened. The wand looked old, tired, and offended, which probably meant it had been confiscated from some unlucky student years ago.
"So many cards?" Roger opened the drawer beside it and found it filled with Chocolate Frog cards.
Like a mouse that had fallen into a mountain of cheese, Roger excitedly inspected the caretaker's office. Years of confiscations had turned the place into a chaotic treasure room, and its contents were numerous and strange, with some items looking so old that they had probably been left behind by previous caretakers.
The Chocolate Frog cards alone filled several drawers. If someone searched carefully, they could likely gather a complete set, and if the younger students knew Filch's office held such treasures, they would surely swarm the place looking for a way to steal them back.
"Thank you, Mr Filch," Roger said cheerfully. Then he looked down at the cat lounging on the table. "Mrs Norris, you don't mind if I take these, do you?"
Mrs Norris gave no objection. Since the cat remained silent, Roger unceremoniously stuffed every unfamiliar card into the deep pockets of his school robes.
Mrs Norris lay lazily on the table, her round belly clearly making her want nothing more than a sweet nap. She looked less like Filch's terrifying spy and more like a cat who had discovered the meaning of life in fried-fish-flavoured cat food.
"Huh. A Golden Snitch?" Roger rummaged through the back of a faded drawer and found a crystal box containing what appeared to be a Quidditch Snitch.
The Golden Snitch was exquisitely crafted and looked rather valuable. The front of the box was engraved in gold with the words Bowman Wright, No. 101.
"A commemorative edition," Roger said, immediately becoming careful.
He opened the crystal box cautiously, afraid the Snitch would shoot out and vanish into the office. Fortunately, it seemed to have lost most of its magic and lay quietly inside, allowing him to breathe a little easier.
The Snitch was only the size of a walnut, with two delicate wings tucked into the recessed seams of its golden sphere. Its surface was covered in mysterious, intricate patterns that seemed to conceal information, and that alone made Roger intensely curious.
He slowly poured a thread of magic into it. The sphere suddenly began to vibrate, and he tightened his grip just in time to keep it from flying away.
Once the magic faded, the Snitch became calm again. Roger examined it closely, his eyes bright with interest.
"An excellent alchemical product," he murmured. "The mechanisms inside must be incredibly clever."
He badly wanted to take it apart and examine every piece. However, considering its collectible value, it would be more cost-effective to buy an ordinary Golden Snitch for disassembly, so he put the crystal box away for now.
Roger glanced at Daphne's pocket watch. It was already past one in the morning, and Mr Filch still had not returned.
He blew out the oil lamp, leaned back in the chair, and fell asleep.
Early the next morning, Filch woke him by slamming both hands on the table. Snape stood silently in the doorway, his black robes falling around him like a death omen, and after one cold glance he led his student away.
"Professor, you should sign me a pass," Roger said as they walked.
"A pass?" Snape stopped so suddenly that Roger nearly ran into him.
It was the morning rush, and the corridor was packed with students hurrying to their classrooms. Snape stood there like a plague spreading through the crowd, and everyone instinctively shrank away as they passed him.
"You managed to finish something in the early hours of the morning," Snape sneered. "Even Hagrid's dog could have done it faster."
Roger curled his lip. If dogs were so useful, then why had Snape created Sectumsempra?
Snape continued his scolding without mercy. "After being cornered at the entrance to the Slytherin common room without knowing the password, were you simply planning to wait there?"
Roger remained wisely silent. Snape's irritation was too sharp for defence, and besides, he really had been caught because he forgot the password changed after midnight.
"Are you the only student in Hogwarts wandering around at night?" Snape's lifeless gaze swept over Harry and his group as they hurried past toward Professor Flitwick's Charms classroom. "Slytherin loses five points for violating curfew, and you will also serve detention."
Snape did not particularly care about the lost points. His true anger came from Roger's stupidity, because hiding anywhere in the castle for the night would have been better than standing trapped at the entrance to the common room like a gift for Filch.
Harry and Ron perked up the moment they heard Slytherin had lost points. Their faces brightened, and they practically skipped toward Charms.
"Don't worry, Professor. I'll definitely earn them back," Roger promised quickly. "It's only a matter of division. It'll be easy."
"Three days. Fifty points," Snape said coldly. "If you fail, you can expect to spend your detention at the bottom of the Black Lake collecting waterweed."
"Professor, tomorrow is Saturday," Roger reminded him.
Snape's steps paused for the briefest instant. Then he continued walking without looking back, leaving Roger with a deadline that was apparently not open to negotiation.
"Roger, are you all right?" Daphne only dared approach after Snape left, and Hermione was also watching him with concern from nearby.
"It's just swimming," Roger said with a smile. "If it weren't Friday, getting fifty points would be easy."
He did not look especially worried. His Head of House had a vicious tongue but a soft enough heart when it mattered, though Roger suspected Snape would rather drink failed potion sludge than admit it.
During Charms, Roger answered questions with unusual enthusiasm. Professor Flitwick kept glancing at him in confusion, clearly wondering whether the boy had taken the wrong potion that morning.
"All right, Roger, sit down first," Flitwick finally said.
The tiny professor took out his wand and prepared to introduce the spell they would be learning. Today's lesson was the Levitation Charm, one of the most basic and practical charms every wizard needed to master.
"This is an essential spell," Professor Flitwick said, standing atop a tall stack of books so he could be seen over the desks. "It allows objects to float when cast correctly."
He made the students watch his wand carefully. "Do you remember the movement we practised before? Swish and flick."
"Swish and flick," the class repeated.
Normally, Roger would have lazily moved his wand once and called that good enough. Today, however, he was completely different, responding to the professor's instructions with boundless seriousness.
Daphne found his solemn expression so amusing that she nearly laughed aloud. Roger quickly signalled with his eyes for her to stop causing trouble, because every point mattered now.
"Very good," Flitwick said as he looked around. "Most of you have mastered the correct wand movement."
His gaze lingered on Roger with obvious approval. Roger's movement was graceful and concise, almost like a textbook example brought to life.
"When you say the incantation, pronunciation is crucial," Flitwick continued. "It is Wingardium Leviosa."
As in previous years, he used Baruffio as a warning example. "Unless you wish to end up with a buffalo on your chest, do not mispronounce the incantation."
After the warning, he let everyone try for themselves. Feathers lay before each student, light and harmless, waiting to either float beautifully or remain stubbornly on the desk.
Hermione did not immediately wave her wand and show off her success as she normally would have done. She sat still, looking as if she were waiting for something.
Ron glanced at her with puzzled relief. Had Hermione changed her personality? If so, that was wonderful, because perhaps she would finally stop being so annoying.
"Wingardium Leviosa," Roger said clearly.
To recover the five points he had lost, he cast quickly and precisely. The feather in front of him rose obediently into the air.
"Well done!" Professor Flitwick exclaimed, delighted by how quickly Roger had mastered the Levitation Charm.
"Professor, I can make it float without a wand," Roger said, looking at Flitwick, whose respected Charms teacher still had not awarded any points.
"Oh?" Professor Flitwick's eyes widened. "Roger, are you referring to wandless casting?"
"Of course," Roger said.
The young witches and wizards immediately began murmuring among themselves. "Isn't that something only advanced students can learn?" someone whispered.
"Ron, what's wandless casting?" Harry asked curiously, adjusting his glasses.
"Wandless casting means focusing and guiding magical energy without using a wand as a medium," Hermione cut in, explaining before Ron could answer. "It's an advanced and complicated technique that only a very small number of wizards can master."
She paused, then added with the confidence of someone who had read too much and remembered all of it. "If we disregard the precision required for formal spellwork, many magical traditions in Africa are known for using it."
"Hmph. What a show-off," Ron muttered, curling his lip in disdain. He did not believe Roger could possibly have mastered wandless casting.
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