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Unlike before, Ron didn't argue with Hermione. Instead, he nodded in complete agreement. "His Wand-Lighting Charm looks like a dying firefly!"
Professor Quirrell probably realized how pathetic his display was. He quickly canceled the spell and forced an awkward smile. "V-v-very sorry. P-p-perhaps it is... because of my... i-injuries."
"S-s-so, I would like to ask a-a student to... d-demonstrate."
Hearing that, Hermione immediately shot her hand into the air, practically vibrating as she hoped to be called on.
Unfortunately for her, Quirrell's eyes landed two seats over—right on Harry.
"M-M-Mr. Potter... w-would you mind doing a... d-demonstration?"
Hearing his name, Harry instinctively stood up. But because he'd been dozing off, he had absolutely no idea what Quirrell had just asked.
Oh, god. Ron... what did he say? Harry shot Ron a desperate, pleading look.
Catching the SOS, Ron quickly started whispering an explanation. But Harry was panicking so hard he couldn't process a single word his friend was saying.
Seeing Harry standing there looking completely lost, Quirrell patiently repeated his request.
"Professor, I haven't learned the Wand-Lighting Charm yet..." Harry said, his face burning bright red. Getting caught sleeping in class hit him with a massive wave of embarrassment.
"I-it's quite alright. J-j-just give it a try." Acting every bit the supportive teacher, Quirrell earnestly encouraged him.
Seeing Harry struggle, Richie finally took pity on him and leaned over, whispering a quick tip.
"Harry, when you cast it, just give your wrist a light flick. Treat it like you're casually dusting something off. And remember the incantation: Lumos."
Hearing Richie's advice, Harry instantly remembered the blindingly bright Wand-Lighting Charm Richie had cast back on the Hogwarts Express platform.
"Can I... actually do it?"
"Trust yourself. Just like when you're on a broom," Richie encouraged.
Just like on a broom... okay. I can do this! Harry took a few deep breaths, gathered his courage, and flicked his wand exactly as Richie had instructed.
"Lumos!"
Instantly, a brilliant, fiery light erupted in the dim Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, violently banishing the shadows into the corners.
"Oh, Merlin, my eyes!"
"That's the Savior for you! Nailed it on the first try!"
"Harry Potter's charm is way better than Professor Quirrell's!"
The Gryffindor lions didn't hold back their praise. Quirrell, on the other hand, practically threw his hands over his face and stumbled backward in sheer panic.
Unfortunately for him, he was standing on the podium and had nowhere to retreat. After a few frantic steps, he slammed back-first into the chalkboard.
Desperately trying to cover up his terror, he stammered out, "E-e-excellent charm work. T-t-two points to... G-Gryffindor."
Hearing that, Harry instinctively lowered his wand and looked down at Ron. "W-what?"
Ron's face lit up with absolute shock and joy. "Harry, you just earned house points!!"
The Gryffindors erupted into cheers. Even Hermione allowed a satisfied smile to cross her face.
The Ravenclaw eagles, however, remained completely unfazed.
"It's just two points. Richie could earn that in his sleep," Terry stated confidently. His blind faith in his roommate was rapidly turning him into the president of the Richie Harland fan club.
Once the blinding light finally vanished, Quirrell gasped for air like a drowning man breaking the surface. "O-o-oh, I a-apologize. I b-b-believe my... i-injuries are f-f-flaring up. Y-you may use the... r-rest of the p-period... to s-s-study quietly."
With that, Quirrell grabbed his cauldron and practically sprinted out of the room, looking like a man fleeing for his life.
"Hell yeah! My nose is finally free!"
"Professor Quirrell is so weird!"
"Merlin, I never want to end up like him!"
"'Y-you may use the... r-rest of the p-period...' Hahaha!"
"Honestly, vampires sound terrifying though. I'm going to owl my parents and ask them to send me some garlic..."
The second Quirrell was gone, the classroom devolved into chaotic chatter.
Richie watched Harry grinning from ear to ear, deep in thought.
A fully grown wizard, absolutely terrified by an eleven-year-old's Lumos charm... Maybe good really does just naturally repel evil?
Richie shook his head and went back to organizing his notes.
Not long after, the bell rang. The Gryffindors swarmed Harry, hyping him up as they dragged him off to the Quidditch pitch, while the Ravenclaws headed off to their second period: Transfiguration.
---
The bell rang again, signaling the start of class.
Compared to Professor Quirrell—who was clearly a total fraud—Professor McGonagall was exactly what a teacher should be, casually displaying a terrifying depth of magical knowledge.
They were still working on turning matchsticks into silver needles. After running through a quick review of the core concepts from their last lesson, McGonagall set them loose to practice.
"Oh, three distinct wave patterns. Excellent transfiguration!"
"Two points to Ravenclaw for Mr. Harland's flawless execution!"
---
With the morning classes wrapped up, the students flooded into the Great Hall for lunch.
"Hey, Richie, guess what I just heard?" Terry whispered conspiratorially as they sat down at the table. "This is going to blow your mind!"
Richie twirled a forkful of spaghetti marinara and took a bite. "What is it?"
"That poem from the notice board this morning? It just officially became the Quidditch team's anthem!" Terry pumped his fist excitedly. "This is Ravenclaw's first-ever team anthem! We're witnessing history here!"
Richie's fork paused mid-air for a fraction of a second, but he smoothly recovered, pretending not to care. "Wow. That's great."
"Oh, please. Your news is already outdated." Stephen and Anthony finally arrived, sliding into the seats across from them.
Stephen pushed his glasses up his nose, his eyes practically gleaming. "Professor Flitwick was absolutely thrilled when he heard what was written on those parchments."
"He literally announced that he's buying three of the newest brooms on the market for the house team—Nimbus 2000s!"
"Merlin's beard! Nimbus 2000s?!" Terry shrieked, totally losing it. "The Nimbus 2000 literally just dropped this summer! They cost two hundred Galleons a pop! Three of them is six hundred Galleons!! That's an entire year of my dad's salary!! Professor Flitwick is dumping some serious cash!"
Stephen nodded in absolute agreement. "It's a massive flex."
"I heard Captain Gideon literally jumped out of his seat in the middle of class when he heard the news! Right now, he's actively hunting down whoever wrote the poem and pitched those questions. He's saying he wants to properly 'reward' them."
"Honestly though, it is kind of weird. Why didn't the author just sign their name?"
For once, Terry actually stopped to look at things from someone else's perspective.
"If they didn't leave a name, they probably just didn't want the fame. They didn't want to screw up their daily routine."
"After all, a famous butterfly just gets pinned to a board for people to stare at."
Hearing Terry drop something that genuinely profound caught Stephen and Anthony totally off guard. Still, they both nodded in strong agreement.