Charms class was held in a third-floor classroom. Charlie and his two roommates walked in and found a desk where they could sit together.
A few students had already arrived before them.
"Charlie!" Hannah Abbott, sporting twin pigtails, waved at him.
"Morning," Charlie waved back.
As the minutes ticked by, the classroom gradually filled up. Today was the very first class for Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff.
It was also the first actual magic class these young witches and wizards had ever attended in their lives.
Expect them to sit quietly without buzzing with excitement? Not a chance.
Even Charlie was looking forward to it. Judging by the textbooks, he figured the first lesson would just cover the Wand-Lighting Charm, but the anticipation was still there.
Ten minutes later, right as the classroom noise hit its peak, it was time to begin.
Click-clack-click. The sharp sound of leather shoes echoed from the corridor. The footsteps were rapid, like someone practically power-walking.
Charlie glanced toward the door and immediately understood.
It was Professor Flitwick. Standing barely over three feet tall, he had a sharp, pronounced nose that resembled a large eagle's beak, and he wore a perfectly tailored tailcoat. His steps were rapid, but his actual speed was just that of a normal walking pace.
Uh... Because of his height, did he have to develop a habit of speed-walking just to keep up with a normal person's pace?
Sorry, Professor. I didn't mean to be rude, Charlie thought, feeling a sudden twinge of guilt for the dark humor.
Professor Flitwick marched into the room and headed for the front. Notably, his podium wasn't a desk—it was just pile after pile of books.
The books were stacked like a small mountain. He climbed up them like stairs until he stood right at the summit.
"Ahem." He cleared his throat twice, silencing the last remaining whispers in the room. Then, he spread his arms wide.
"Welcome, young witches and wizards. I will be teaching your very first introductory class on magic."
He lowered his hands, clasping them behind his back.
"I know you are all eager to start waving your wands. But no need to rush, my dears. Put them down for now. Before we start waving our wands, there is one crucial concept we must understand. How do we cast a spell, and what are the key elements of spellcasting?"
Unsurprisingly, it was a textbook opening question. Equally unsurprisingly, a Ravenclaw hand shot straight into the air. It was Padma Patil.
"The incantation and the wand movement," Padma answered.
"A standard answer. While not entirely complete, take one point for Ravenclaw," Professor Flitwick nodded approvingly.
"There is one more element Miss Patil missed, and it is the absolute focal point of your spellcasting journey moving forward. Would anyone else care to venture a guess?"
"Intent," Charlie muttered under his breath. "Or rather, desire."
"Desire!" Anthony blurted out loudly.
"A brilliant answer! Though next time, do remember to raise your hand and stand up. And your name is?"
"Anthony Goldstein, Professor. But the answer actually came from Charlie Wonka next to me. We're both in Ravenclaw." Anthony stood up, grinning as he gestured openly toward Charlie.
"I see. Very honest of you. Another point to Ravenclaw for that answer."
Huh? Charlie stared at Anthony, utterly bewildered. You already yelled it out, mate. Did you really need to cite your sources? Anthony sat back down and nudged Charlie with his elbow. "Why did you whisper it?" he asked curiously.
"I just... couldn't be bothered to raise my hand. You have to stand up, everyone stares at you, and you might even get it wrong."
"Agreed. I thought of it too, but I was too lazy to raise my hand." A voice behind Charlie chimed in, fully backing his logic.
"Justin, you muttered 'English accent', not 'desire'."
"Exactly, which proves not raising my hand was the right call. Imagine how embarrassing it would have been if I'd stood up to say that."
Charlie and Anthony turned around to see a dark-haired boy and a blond boy talking.
"Justin Finch-Fletchley, Hufflepuff," the dark-haired boy introduced himself, offering a fist bump.
Charlie bumped his fist. "You get me."
"Absolutely, mate."
The blond boy nodded at Charlie. "Ernie Macmillan."
Justin carried on. "Muttering is the superior strategy. You don't draw attention, but you still answer the question. If you get it wrong, it's not embarrassing, but you end up remembering the right answer better. Most importantly, there are zero stakes—the worst thing that happens is you miss out on a few House points."
Anthony listened to Justin's philosophy in utter disbelief, looking between the Hufflepuffs and Charlie. "But... don't you want to win House points?"
"House points?" Justin and Ernie exchanged a look, both sporting the exact same bemused smile. "What are those?"
"Are they supposed to be important?"
Anthony looked back at Charlie, only to find the exact same expression mirrored on his face.
"Alright, I understand how Hufflepuffs think now. But—why are you smiling? Aren't you in Ravenclaw?"
Charlie didn't answer. He just silently turned his attention back to the professor, suddenly remembering how the Sorting Hat had agonizingly debated between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff the night before.
"Desire!" Professor Flitwick's voice rose over the classroom. "It is something hidden within your heart, and it is absolutely essential for casting magic. Not just in Charms class, but in every single flick of your wand going forward—it must be driven by desire."
As he spoke, a piece of chalk sprang to life on the blackboard behind him, writing entirely on its own. Flitwick, meanwhile, looked like a maestro, his right hand raised slightly as he directed the air.
"'Incantation', 'Wand Movement', and 'Desire' are what we call the three foundational pillars of spellcasting."
Scratch, scratch, scratch. The sound of furious note-taking echoed through the room, mostly coming from the Ravenclaws.
Charlie wasn't in a rush. He simply twirled his quill, watching Professor Flitwick closely. He preferred to listen quietly, absorb the entire concept, and then write down his notes based on memory and his own understanding.
"There is no need to open your books. Today is just a small practical exercise," the professor continued.
Behind him, the Wand-Lighting Charm appeared on the blackboard. [Lumos] Next, Professor Flitwick broke down the mechanics of the spell—pronunciation, wand movement, and the exact intent required—explaining each piece in meticulous detail to the first-years.
"Remember, you must genuinely crave the light," Flitwick finished.
He raised his right hand high and gave a gentle flick. Snap, snap, snap— One by one, the heavy curtains drew shut. The candles extinguished themselves until only two tiny flames remained.
"Go on, children. You are very much in need of light right now," he said. Instantly, a chorus of incantations broke out across the darkened classroom.
The Wand-Lighting Charm was inherently simple, and Flitwick's environmental trick perfectly coaxed out the required emotional response from the students.
Two minutes later, the first beam of light bloomed. It was Hector.
"You sneaky git, have you been practicing in secret?" Anthony stared at his roommate in shock.
"I guarantee Charlie's practiced it too. Honestly... it'd be weirder if we hadn't tried it," Hector replied with a calm smile.
True enough. Being a Ravenclaw and not immediately testing out the magic in your textbooks the second you got the chance? That was practically a crime.
"When I tried it at home, it would only ever flicker," Hector continued. "But now that I understand the 'desire' part, it feels incredibly easy."
"Quiet down, please." Professor Flitwick appeared beside them with a polite smile. "Yes, an excellent bit of spellwork," he praised, before gently adding, "But do let's give the other students a proper environment to focus."
He then looked past Charlie toward Justin and Ernie.
Justin was furiously waving his wand. But as his failures mounted, he was growing increasingly frustrated, practically whipping the wood through the air.
Just as Charlie thought Flitwick was going to step in and correct him, the professor merely observed for a moment before moving on to another part of the room.
Before long, half an hour had slipped by.
Once the vast majority of the students had managed to produce a light, Flitwick flicked his finger. The curtains flew open, and the candles flared back to life.
"Excellent work. I believe most of you have managed the spell. If you haven't yet, do not panic. We have plenty of time, and you may continue practicing at the end of the lesson."
With time still on the clock, Professor Flitwick took a seat on his mountain of books. "Now that you've all had a taste of practical spellcasting, I want you to ask questions. Be bold."
His eyes drifted toward Charlie's section of the room, specifically zeroing in on Justin and Ernie.
"During my earlier questions, some of you were a little... shy. Now that it is your turn to ask the questions, I hope you will be a bit braver."
He lowered his gaze, heavily implying that Charlie was included in the 'shy' category.
Charlie offered an awkward smile and glanced around the room. Not a single hand was up.
Fine then. He did actually have a question, even if it wasn't strictly related to the Wand-Lighting Charm.
"Professor, why is it that after casting a few spells in a row, I get a headache? Like a sharp, stabbing pain right in my temples?" Charlie asked curiously.
Flitwick looked slightly taken aback. "Oh my. Have you already experienced this?" he asked with genuine concern.
Then, his eyes sparked as a thought occurred to him. "A very fascinating question. Let me think, children..."
On the blackboard, several terms appeared in quick succession. [Spirituality] [Mental Energy] [Brain Power] "There have been countless words used throughout history to describe exactly what it is we consume when we cast magic," Flitwick explained.
"What we consume?"
"Correct," Flitwick nodded. "Spirituality, mental energy... there are too many to list. Different eras and different languages have used wildly different terms. And depending on the word, the underlying theory changes. Some claim this power originates in the brain. Others say the soul. Some even theorize an invisible, unknowable organ that biologically separates wizards from Muggles. Today, however, we generally refer to it simply as Magic."
"MP," a student muttered under their breath.
"So, Professor, do we just have a little glass bottle inside our heads filled with blue energy points? And it drains a little every time we use it, and we just have to wait for it to slowly refill?" a boy asked, sounding thoroughly confused.
"That is not the correct way to view it, mister."
Another word appeared on the blackboard behind Flitwick. [Stamina] "Stamina is not liquid, and you do not have a physical tank storing it. Its abundance or lack thereof is an abstract concept. It simply relies on whether you are well-rested, healthy, and properly nourished. Magic is exactly the same. It is our 'stamina' for magical exertion. It is an abstract concept, heavily tied to the soul, the mind, and your mental fortitude."
Hearing this, everything suddenly clicked for Charlie.
Of course. He had been trapped by his own gamer logic. This world did have the concept of "magic capacity."
But it wasn't a blue mana bar. It wasn't "MP" from a video game or a quantifiable stat from a fantasy novel.
The moment Professor Flitwick equated magic to physical stamina, it all made perfect sense.
"It is a concept rarely discussed and almost never emphasized," Flitwick said, giving Charlie a deeply approving look. "An excellent question. Does anyone else have something they wish to ask?"
Over the next few minutes, several other students asked about specific hurdles they'd faced while trying to cast the spell.
With about ten minutes left on the clock, and seeing no one else raising their hands, Charlie raised his again.
"Go ahead, Mr. Wonka."
Charlie stood up. "Professor, I was wondering... is the upper limit of a spell entirely fixed? Take the Wand-Lighting Charm, for example. The textbook says its function is 'to produce a light at the tip of the wand'. Once we are proficient enough, is it possible to alter how the spell physically manifests?"
Flitwick's polite smile faded, replaced by a look of intense fascination. He loved the depth of the young wizard's question. It was genuinely brilliant.
"It is. It most certainly is," Flitwick said, standing back up on his books. "When our mastery of a spell is absolute, we are capable of—mind your eyes, children—Lumos!"
He gave his wand a sharp whip through the air. A blinding, intense light exploded from the tip. It was so bright that if anyone were looking at Hogwarts from the outside, they would have seen beams of pure white light piercing through the classroom windows.
Three seconds later, Flitwick cancelled the spell.
"Or, alternatively... Lumos."
Tiny orbs of light began popping out of his wand. They drifted into the air, hovering mid-flight like fireflies, bathing the entire room in a soft, gentle glow.
"You see, my Wand-Lighting Charm is not restricted solely to the tip of my wand."
It was an incredible display of skill. The first-years stared in wide-eyed awe.
Professor Flitwick allowed himself a small smile. It was a feat the average wizard couldn't even dream of pulling off. The modern magical system relied heavily on strict incantations and rigid wand movements to produce fixed, reliable results.
To break free from those foundational constraints and achieve 'free casting' required a terrifyingly deep understanding of magical theory.
He dismissed the floating lights and looked back at Charlie, hoping the demonstration had satisfied the boy's curiosity.
But Charlie was clearly zoning out.
Snapping back to reality under the professor's gaze, Charlie blinked, then gave a sheepish smile.
"Professor, what I meant was... can we completely change its physical form? Like, could we conjure a little glowing pixie or something that automatically follows us around and acts as a light source?"
Admittedly, Charlie's question was a bit... too much like a fairy tale.
Flitwick paused in surprise before slowly shaking his head. "I am sorry, Mr. Wonka. What you are describing is not merely breaking a spell's limits. Creating an autonomous, following entity falls under the umbrella of extraordinarily complex charm work. Perhaps one day, a brilliant mind will invent the exact spell you are imagining using Lumos as a foundation. But as it stands now, no matter how powerful a wizard is, they cannot achieve that effect solely through the Wand-Lighting Charm."
Charlie nodded in understanding. "Sorry, Professor. Guess my imagination ran away with me."
Flitwick didn't mind in the slightest. In fact, he looked encouraging. He smiled softly. "It is the people whose imaginations run away with them that end up changing the world."
The moment Charlie sat down, the floodgates opened. Suddenly, dozens of questions poured out from the other students.
Most of them were regarding magical variations—they were desperate to see what else Flitwick could do.
The first-years had grown much braver. If Charlie could spout absolute fairy-tale nonsense and still get praised for it, what did they have to lose?
Professor Flitwick is the absolute best! the young wizards cheered internally.
Charlie, however, was no longer paying attention to the class. He pulled up his system interface in his mind, staring at his upgraded Wand-Lighting Charm.
Yes, his Lumos could detach from his wand. Yes, it could split into multiple lights. But it was abundantly clear that his version was nothing like Professor Flitwick's.
The system hadn't simply altered the spell's visual output. It had forcefully rewritten it, bypassing traditional magic theory entirely to hand Charlie a brand-new spell—one that looked similar on the surface, but operated on a fundamentally different logic.