With Charms over, the first-years had the entire afternoon free.
The course load for first- and second-year students was incredibly light. Borrowing a concept from his past life, Charlie mentally divided the seven-year Hogwarts curriculum into three tiers: junior, intermediate, and senior.
Junior covered years one and two. Intermediate spanned years three, four, and five.
Senior level—everything post-O.W.L.s—was when wizards specialized in their chosen fields, taking on much deeper, more complex coursework.
"First year is basically just playtime for you lot," Roger Davies told them.
He was the Ravenclaw student from the feast who had mentioned his great-grandfather's Quidditch obsession. Thanks to Anthony's aggressive socializing, Charlie now also knew Roger was a Chaser for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team.
Clearly, sports ran in the Davies family blood.
It was noon, and the first-years were hanging around the common room after lunch. Most of the time, it was just Roger answering their endless questions about Hogwarts.
"If you're bored, you can hang out by the Black Lake. Just don't go swimming—it's against the rules, and you don't want to get caught," Roger advised.
"Honestly, though, my best advice is to use this free time to explore the castle. Check out the dungeons, the other towers, the greenhouses. You need to learn your way around fast. The staircases here change constantly, so it takes a while to memorize the routes."
"Brilliant idea!" Anthony nodded, turning to Hector and Charlie. "Want to go exploring? Get a feel for the layout."
Hector looked over at Charlie as well.
Charlie was currently slouched in a pale-blue armchair. Alice was cupped in his left hand, while his right hand gently stroked her back. His focus, however, was entirely on his system interface.
[Wish Dust: 12.3]
[Specialization Targets: Levitation Charm, Mending Charm]
[Current Trait: Natural Harvest (You may gather free energy from the natural world.)]
Ever since he'd dropped five points to upgrade the Wand-Lighting Charm, his Wish Dust balance had plummeted to ten. The extra 2.3 points were just the slow trickle he'd managed to passively collect recently.
This is painfully slow...
"I know too few spells, and I'm practically bankrupt on Wish Dust," Charlie sighed internally.
Aside from Levitation and Mending, Charlie had spent the remainder of his summer practicing basic Transfiguration.
As for his skill level? Well... he could reliably and relatively easily turn a match into a needle.
That was about it.
He figured basic Transfiguration was probably eligible for specialization too, but he simply didn't have enough Wish Dust to trigger the option. Given how incredibly versatile and high-ceiling Transfiguration was, upgrading it would likely cost an astronomical amount.
The Levitation Charm and the Mending Charm...
He shook his head, dismissing the thought.
"Charlie? Charlie?!" Anthony's voice finally broke through his thoughts.
Charlie turned his head, blinking slowly. "Oh. What were you saying?"
"I said, do you want to go explore the castle and figure out the routes?" Anthony repeated.
Charlie shook his head. "You guys go ahead. I'm feeling a bit tired."
"Fair enough. You basically fell asleep sitting up just now."
Charlie just smiled, not bothering to correct him.
"You two go map the place out. Then I can just follow you around later."
"Alright then," Anthony shrugged, standing up alongside Hector. "Let's go knock on the door next door and see if those blokes are in."
Charlie headed upstairs with them and slipped into their dorm room.
He flipped open The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 and started skimming.
The hardest spell in the book was probably the Dancing Feet Spell, Tarantallegra. If he remembered correctly, it was usually part of the final exam. But for the life of him, Charlie couldn't imagine what a "specialized" version of making someone tap-dance would even look like.
After a bit more searching, he settled on two targets: the Softening Charm and the Fire-Making Spell. Both were entry-level first-year spells with decent practical utility.
Charlie remembered wanting to test the Fire-Making Spell back in Granny Martha's attic. But after a few seconds of logical thought, he'd realized lighting magical fires in a cramped, wooden room was a terrible idea, and had switched to practicing Transfiguration instead.
Grabbing his textbook, Charlie tossed Alice onto his bed and headed back down to the common room.
Roger Davies was sitting by the window, carefully maintaining his broomstick. He looked up, surprised to see Charlie.
"Thought you went to sleep?"
"The second I lay down, I suddenly wasn't tired anymore," Charlie smiled wryly. He quickly changed the subject. "Sir, do you happen to know a good place to practice spells?"
"Just call me Roger. No need to be so formal." Roger set down his polishing cloth and the tin of specialized broom-wax, pausing to think.
"We usually just sneak out into the corridors to practice."
"Sneak out?" Charlie asked, surprised.
"Yeah. You wouldn't believe the bizarre stuff Ravenclaws try to practice. Flatulence Curses, Vomiting Hexes, Exploding Charms... if we were allowed to practice in the common room, the place would be a war zone."
"So, years ago, an unspoken rule was established: absolutely no spell practice in the common room. We usually go up to the higher floors where the corridors are empty. Oh, right—Professor Flitwick's office is on the eighth floor. If you're just practicing standard textbook spells, you'll be fine up there. But if you're messing around with weird hexes or curses, do not go near his office. If he catches you, you're dead."
Charlie nodded in understanding, glancing around the room. There were quite a few Ravenclaws hanging about. Some were reading, a few were huddled in corners scribbling away at Merlin-knew-what, and others were chatting in groups.
"What do you think would happen if I hit someone with a Dancing Feet Spell and a Tickling Charm at the exact same time?" a boy whispered nearby.
His friend looked thoughtful before replying, "What about the Dancing Feet Spell and the Leg-Locker Curse on the same person? I feel like that'd be way funnier."
"Brilliant. Let's go test it right now." The two boys looked around shiftily. "Actually, let's go outside."
Roger gestured toward them with his chin. "See what I mean? That's Ravenclaw for you. You never know what unhinged nonsense is going through our heads."
"Does anyone ever get hurt?" Charlie asked, slightly concerned.
"Who knows? Last year, some idiot tried to Transfigure his own right hand into a snake. Then he had his mate Transfigure his left hand into a snake at the same time."
"He wanted to see the difference between self-Transfiguration and having someone else cast it on him. The result? He couldn't control the snake his mate created—even though it was attached to his own arm. His two snake-hands ended up trying to kill each other. By the time the spells wore off, his fingers were braided like a pretzel."
Charlie couldn't help but let out a laugh.
"Laugh all you want," Roger smiled. "Anyway, back to you. What spell are you trying to practice?"
"The Fire-Making Spell."
Roger's expression instantly turned serious. He thought for a long moment before shaking his head.
"Even if you find an empty room, I strongly advise against it. The Fire-Making Spell is arguably the most dangerous spell in the first-year curriculum. The chance of it exploding in your face is incredibly high. I don't know if you've ever experienced a spell backfire—but if you haven't, that just means you've been lucky. Don't go thinking you're some untouchable prodigy. Every year, someone ends up in the hospital wing because of a botched Fire-Making Spell. It's not a joke."
Seeing Roger's grave expression, Charlie felt his enthusiasm deflate.
"Alright. What about the Softening Charm? That should be safer, right?"
"Oh, yeah, that one's perfectly fine," Roger nodded, relaxing. "Even if you mess up a Softening Charm, nothing bad is going to happen. Well, unless you happen to be an absolute savant at making things explode."
"If I had the talent to make literally any spell explode, I'd probably be a terrifying duelist."
"Fair point. Go on, then," Roger laughed, turning his attention back to his broomstick.
"Thanks," Charlie said, turning and heading out of the common room.
Looks like I'm going to have to track down the Room of Requirement after all.
Charlie hadn't planned on hunting for the room on his second day. After all, he was just practicing standard school spells—he had nothing to hide. Plus, trekking all the way down from Ravenclaw Tower just to climb all the way back up to the eighth floor seemed like a massive waste of energy.
But now, it looked like he didn't have much of a choice.
He wasn't even entirely sure he could find it. It's near a tapestry... some idiot getting clubbed by trolls or something.
Sifting through his rather vague memories of the original story, Charlie began his trek up the castle.
He crossed a suspended bridge on the fifth floor, re-entered the main castle, and wasted a bit of time trying to find the stairs leading up. Charlie took his time, walking slowly and taking in the sights. There was no rush.
Above the fifth floor, the lighting in the corridors noticeably dimmed.
The sixth floor was full of empty classrooms. While the house-elves kept them perfectly free of dust and cobwebs, one look at the haphazardly arranged desks told Charlie that no actual classes had been held in them for a very long time.
Though he was quite sure someone was using them. Aside from whatever illicit activities those empty rooms were hosting, the only officially designated room on the entire sixth floor was the prefects' bathroom.
So basically, anything above the fifth floor is the Wild West? No wonder everyone comes up here to practice.
On the seventh floor, two large classrooms had been neatly arranged. Pushing the door to one of them open, Charlie immediately locked eyes with an older student.
"Who are you?" asked the older boy, whose robes were lined with Hufflepuff yellow.
"I'm a first-year. Just exploring the castle. What is this place?"
"Oh, this is the Charms Club," the older student smiled.
"Club?"
"Yeah, Hogwarts has loads of clubs. Some are run by students, others by professors. We're the latter—this club is run by Professor Flitwick."
Charlie's eyes lit up. He took a step forward, about to ask to join, when the boy cut him off.
"Unfortunately, the Charms Club is currently only open to fifth-years and above. And you have to have achieved at least an 'E' (Exceeds Expectations) in Charms, Transfiguration, or Defense Against the Dark Arts to be eligible."
Charlie nodded. That made sense. Compared to the clubs from his university days, this was clearly a serious, academic society. Not a place to just hang around and eat snacks.
Besides, joining a club now wouldn't do him much good anyway. He had more than enough to learn just from the first-year textbooks; he didn't need high-level theory discussions yet. Finding a mentor would be useful, but he didn't need to join a club for that.
"Understood. Thanks," Charlie nodded and left the room.
"No problem." The Hufflepuff watched him go before turning back to whatever he had been working on.
Aside from the club room, the seventh floor seemed fairly unremarkable. And Charlie now had a pretty good idea of what the "empty" classrooms on the sixth floor were probably being used for.
The eighth floor.
Compared to the sixth and seventh, the eighth floor felt distinctly desolate. The corridors were wide, but the air carried the faint, dusty scent of a place rarely visited.
There weren't even many empty classrooms up here. Charlie walked slowly, scanning every tapestry and painting along the walls, searching for his target.
It took him twenty full minutes, but he finally stopped in front of a specific tapestry.
It was a vibrant green weaving that depicted what looked like a lovely spring picnic. Trees bordered a lush patch of grass. But in the center of the idyllic scene were eight hideously ugly trolls, wearing pink ballet tutus and sporting sickeningly sweet, gooey smiles.
The trolls were holding elegant ballet poses—while simultaneously brandishing massive wooden clubs. And right in the center of their circle was a wizard.
Barnabas the Barmy's foolish attempt to train trolls for the ballet.
Charlie's grip on his wand tightened. If he actually knew the Fire-Making Spell, he would have been sorely tempted to burn the horrifying tapestry to ash right then and there.
Why does something this grotesque even exist? Who looked at this and thought, 'Yes, this belongs in a school'?
Maybe I should just practice the Fire-Making Spell on it?
It was a fleeting thought, of course. He wasn't actually going to do it. But the sheer impulse proved just how awful the artwork was.
Forcing his attention away from the dancing trolls, Charlie focused on the stretch of wall opposite the tapestry.
There were no classrooms here. No doors.
Alright. Focus on what I need, and walk past it three times.
Recalling the method to open the Room of Requirement, Charlie began pacing the corridor.
"I need an empty classroom."
He kept his request simple and straightforward. He just needed to confirm the room's location first. He could worry about making complex requests later.
He mentally divided the stretch of corridor opposite Barnabas the Barmy into six smaller sections. Starting from the right, he began walking back and forth, testing each section.
Finally, on his pass through the third section—the one directly across from the tapestry—it happened.
It was a tall, wide stretch of blank white wall. But as Charlie muttered his request and walked past, the stone slowly shifted into a deep brown.
Vertical lines began to form on the surface. It was the color and grain of wood.
Right before his eyes, a solid wooden door materialized, complete with a brass handle.
"I wonder... does the door vanish once I go inside?" Charlie murmured to himself. "Or does it stay visible as long as someone is using the room?"
He pushed the door open and stepped inside. He found a jumbled mess of school desks, blackboards, globes, and cabinets pushed against the walls. The cabinets were cluttered with books, various bottles and jars, brass scales, and pewter cauldrons.
"Because I didn't specify what kind of classroom I needed, it just gave me a bit of everything, huh?"
He didn't bother looking around. He simply stepped backward out of the room and pulled the door shut.
About a minute later, the brass handle melted away. Charlie stood back at his starting position and began pacing again.
"I need a spacious, safe room equipped with the necessary tools for practicing spells."
After his third pass, a set of double doors—much wider than the previous one—materialized on the wall.