Professor Flitwick casually cast the Locking Charm once again.
But this time, a soft pop echoed from the dummy, followed immediately by a puff of black smoke.
"Whoa!" the first-years gasped in surprise.
Flitwick gave his wand a light flick, instantly vanishing the smoke. "Obviously, the Locking Charm cannot be cast directly on a target like this. Doing so will result in spell failure."
"But I want you all to look closely."
"Notice how the dummy has suffered varying degrees of physical damage."
Hearing that, the students immediately craned their necks, staring curiously at the wooden figure.
"This is the result of a misaligned magical anchor. The spell could not locate the predefined concept of a 'lock.'"
"To prevent this catastrophic failure, we must integrate the object-control logic from the Levitation Charm—specifically, the subjugation of matter through magical intent."
"By combining these two concepts, we force the concept of a 'lock' onto the human joints. We use magic to artificially define the target and subjugate it, effectively 'locking' the joints in place."
"Finally, the reverse application of the Softening Charm exponentially amplifies that locking effect, spreading the rigidity across the entire body until complete paralysis is achieved."
"But that introduces an entirely new set of problems..."
The bell rang, cutting through the lecture. Flitwick looked slightly disappointed that he had to stop but obediently signaled the end of class.
It had been an incredibly brilliant, theory-heavy lesson. The first-years stumbled out of the classroom, their brains feeling fuzzy from the sheer volume of advanced magical theory they'd just been force-fed.
Richie, Terry, and the guys headed toward the Great Hall for lunch.
"Merlin's beard, Richie. How did you even know about the Full Body-Bind Curse?" Terry asked, walking beside him and flipping through Richie's densely packed notebook in absolute awe.
"It was mentioned in Dead Limbs, one of the books I've been reading recently. I just looked into it," Richie answered casually.
"Wait, is that the book where the author literally just wrote down whatever he hallucinated in his dreams?"
"You can actually read that?!"
"Seriously... the world of a genius is completely beyond my comprehension."
Terry clicked his tongue, shaking his head in sheer disbelief.
"Not really. I'm actually on my third read-through, and there are still entire chapters I completely don't understand," Richie said, offering a bitter smile.
Over the past month, he had easily breezed through two of the three books on Professor Flitwick's reading list. But Dead Limbs was a completely different beast. The content was exactly as abstract and morbid as the title suggested; it was essentially a stream-of-consciousness nightmare written by a madman.
Richie couldn't grasp most of the underlying theory. He had been forced to repeatedly renew it from the library, aggressively grinding his way through the text while trying to keep up with the rest of his reading list.
"That's still insanely impressive," Terry declared, completely standing by his original ruling.
The four boys made their way down the marble staircase and walked into the Great Hall.
Over at the Gryffindor table, Harry and Ron were already halfway through their lunch.
"Honestly, who does she think she is?" Ron complained around a mouthful of cheese pizza, defaulting to his usual daily rant.
"I literally just scooped a little bit of dirt out of the pot, and Hermione completely lost her mind! She wouldn't stop screaming about how I was dehydrating the Dittany and making it wither!"
"We were supposed to prune the dead branches anyway! So what if a few leaves dried out? Just snip them off!"
"She always makes a massive deal out of absolutely nothing!"
"Harry, I swear, I should have partnered up with you."
Harry didn't even look up from his steak. "You were the one who aggressively demanded to partner with Hermione for the practical. You literally just wanted to slack off!"
"Now you can't keep up with her pace, and you're mad because she's holding you to her standards."
Cough, cough!
Hearing Harry call him out so bluntly, Ron choked on a massive glob of mozzarella.
Harry had hit the nail perfectly on the head. In the beginning, Ron had fought tooth and nail to be Hermione's partner for the Herbology project. He figured since she was a borderline genius, keeping a few Dittany sprouts alive would be a breeze for her. He thought if he stuck with her, he could just coast and do absolutely nothing.
Instead, Hermione had treated him like an incompetent intern, constantly ordering him around, micromanaging his every move, and ruthlessly tearing him apart whenever he messed up.
Ron had regretted his decision almost immediately.
Neville scooted closer. He and Harry had been partners during that morning's Herbology class.
Neville actually had a brilliant natural talent for Herbology, and since he and Harry worked incredibly well together, their Dittany was flourishing. Professor Sprout had actually stopped by their station to publicly praise them.
"Oh, are you guys talking about Hermione?" Neville chimed in between bites of noodles. "She really does work incredibly hard!"
"She's already earned almost thirty house points for Gryffindor this month!"
"And she's constantly chasing down professors to ask questions, or hiding in the library!"
"She's literally a ghost, just like Richie!"
Ron sneered, completely unimpressed. "Yeah, and what good does it do her?"
"She spends her entire life locked in a corner studying. She doesn't have any friends!"
"It's not very Gryffindor of her!"
"Hey, Ron!" Harry frowned, shooting his friend a sharp glare for speaking without thinking. "We're her friends!"
"Right, right, sure. You're her friend," Ron muttered dismissively, shrugging his shoulders.
Harry just stared at Ron, realizing his friend was being completely stubborn and unreasonable, and decided to drop it.
Sensing the sudden tension, Neville wisely, and very quietly, slid away down the bench.
Richie and the guys took their usual seats at the Ravenclaw table and started eating.
The Great Hall steadily filled up with students, and the familiar, comforting hum of hundreds of conversations echoed off the stone walls.
Just as Richie was happily enjoying his lunch, someone lightly tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around and was stunned to see a very familiar face.
"Aunt Annabelle?"
Standing right behind him was none other than Annabelle Godwin.
She reached out, ruffled his hair affectionately, and flashed him a warm smile. "A colleague and I are at Hogwarts on official business. I figured I'd use the opportunity to check up on you."
"And remember, when we're in public, you call me sister!"
Richie looked past Annabelle and noticed a tall wizard standing behind her, who offered him a friendly nod.
"Hello there, beautiful lady. I'm Anthony. Anthony Goldstein. I'm Richie's roommate."
Seeing a stunning, mature woman standing behind Richie, Anthony's eyes practically popped out of his head. He immediately stood up and aggressively offered his hand.
Amused by the kid's sheer confidence, Annabelle shook his hand. "Well, aren't you a charming little gentleman. Do you mind sliding over? I've been working all morning and haven't had a bite to eat."
"Absolutely!" Anthony eagerly scrambled out of his seat, generously offering his spot to Annabelle before speed-walking around to the other side of the table.
"Richie, you completely failed to mention you had a sister this gorgeous!"
Richie rolled his eyes at his roommate's incredibly transparent excitement. "Because it literally never mattered."
Seeing Annabelle settle in with her nephew, Kingsley wisely took the hint and strolled over to the Gryffindor table. Beaming with pride, he found an empty seat and sat down.
Naturally, the sudden appearance of two adult wizards in the middle of the Great Hall sparked a massive wave of curiosity among the students.
Over at the Ravenclaw table, once the eagles realized Annabelle was just Richie's "sister" visiting, they politely minded their own business.
Over at the Gryffindor table, however, Kingsley immediately introduced himself as a Gryffindor alumnus and an active Auror, instantly drawing a crowd of awestruck lions who showered him with gasps of admiration.