The next morning, golden sunlight streamed through the tall windows of the Gryffindor common room, warming the red-and-gold tapestries and casting soft patterns across the rug. Cael was already up, fully dressed and seated in one of the armchairs near the fire, reviewing his class schedule with focused eyes. His finger traced each line of the parchment neatly tucked between his fingers.
Charms – Classroom 2E
Professor Filius Flitwick
Astronomy – Astronomy Tower (Tonight)
Professor Aurora Sinistra
With a decisive snap, Cael folded the schedule and slipped it into his satchel just as footsteps thundered down the staircase. Katie Bell bounded into the room, her hair wind-tossed and cheeks flushed from the rush, grinning like the morning itself.
"Oi, Cael!" she called cheerfully, slinging her bag over one shoulder. "Ready for Charms?"
"As ready as I'll ever be," Cael replied, rising to his feet and falling into step beside her as they made their way out into the winding corridors of the castle. "Let's go. I'm hoping we'll actually learn some useful spells today."
"Yep, me too. The Professor—he's brilliant. And shorter than half the books he assigns," Katie laughed. "But don't let that fool you. I heard he once dueled a Dark wizard while dangling from a chandelier."
Cael raised an eyebrow. "Was the chandelier okay?"
"It was not," she said with a grin. "But Flitwick was. You'll like him. Just don't try to show off unless you really know what you're doing."
"Darn," Cael muttered in mock disappointment. "There go my plans for juggling flaming teacups."
Katie giggled. "Hehehe. I also heard he's a three-time Dueling Champion and is respected internationally."
"Whoa," Cael said, surprised. "But… we don't have Dueling Class."
"Hogwarts used to," she said with a shrug. "But after some incident ages ago, the Ministry banned it officially. Sometimes professors or students start a Dueling Club in secret—but it's not on the schedule."
And like that, they talked and joked their way through the corridors until they reached Classroom 2E.
The Charms classroom was bright and airy, with neat rows of desks and candles floating lazily near the ceiling. Professor Flitwick stood at the front, barely taller than the desk he perched behind. His robes were trimmed in cheerful blue and silver, and his eyes sparkled with enthusiasm.
"Good morning, class!" he greeted them, his voice high-pitched and eager. "Today, we begin with one of the most fundamental—and delightful—charms in a young witch or wizard's arsenal: the Wand-Lighting Charm. Lumos!"
He gave his wand a tiny flick, and the tip glowed with warm, golden light—like the flame of a candle caught in a spell.
"Now," Flitwick continued, "why might we need such a charm, hmm? To read in the dark? Navigate the Forbidden Forest? Or perhaps to find your toad under your bed at midnight?"
The class giggled, and the professor smiled kindly.
"Light, my dear students, is one of the most basic needs in both life and magic. Many advanced spells require focus and visibility. Lumos is often the first step."
He raised his wand again. "The incantation: Lumos—pronounced LOO-mos. And the movement? A tight, clockwise loop followed by a quick downward flick. Precision is key!"
Katie gave Cael a wink. "Bet you five Sickles I'll be the first to get it."
"You're on," Cael said with a grin.
At the front, Professor Flitwick was now guiding a Ravenclaw student, his tone light but instructive.
"Hold your wand firmly but gently—no need to strangle the poor thing," he said cheerfully. "We're guiding, not stabbing. Now, everyone repeat: Lumos. That's right—emphasize the second syllable. Magic listens best when spoken with clarity and confidence."
Cael drew his wand, took a steadying breath, and repeated the motion. Tight clockwise loop. Quick flick. "Lumos!"
The tip of his wand glowed—faint at first, then a steady, star-like shimmer.
"Yes!" he breathed, grinning. It wasn't as bright as Flitwick's, but it certainly outshone most of the others in the room.
Katie, meanwhile, had already mastered hers with perfect form. She leaned in, smirking. "You owe me."
"Fine," Cael muttered. "But technically, I got mine up first. Just… with less flair."
"Excellent work, Mr. Vale! And well done, Miss Bell!" Flitwick beamed. "Five points to Gryffindor!"
The rest of the lesson passed with laughter and light. Students practiced their spells while Professor Flitwick floated among them with tips and praise. Cael didn't even mind when Katie's light began changing shape into a tiny heart and then a star—she was clearly gifted in Charms.
As the lesson came to a close, Professor Flitwick clapped his hands. "Wonderful effort today, everyone! Now, I want you all to practice your wand movements and write a twenty-inch essay on the Wand-Lighting Charm—how it works, and why it's important. Off you go to lunch—it's already midday!"
Groans rose at the mention of homework, but the students gathered their things and filed out toward the Great Hall.
That evening, around 7 p.m.
Cael climbed the narrow spiral staircase of the Astronomy Tower beside Katie. The night air was crisp, and they were both bundled in scarves and cloaks, breath visible in soft white clouds. Above them, the sky stretched vast and endless, the stars glittering like scattered diamonds.
Telescopes were already set up in neat arcs, each labeled for the students. At the center stood Professor Aurora Sinistra, serene and graceful in deep navy robes, the hem of her cloak embroidered with faint constellations.
"Tonight," she began, her soft voice carrying across the rooftop, "we will learn to identify the major constellations visible in the June sky and chart the movement of Jupiter's moons. Astronomy is not just the study of stars, but of time itself. Remember: every star you see is a story already written in light."
Something in those words stirred Cael deeply. A strange sense of memory brushed his thoughts—something not quite from this life.
He found his assigned telescope and adjusted the lens with careful fingers.
Katie nudged him with her elbow. "See that one? Orion's Belt. Easy to spot."
Cael peered through the lens. "I thought it was just three unusually stubborn stars refusing to fall in line."
She laughed. "That too."
They worked in quiet concentration, sketching constellations and recording positions with inky quills on parchment. Professor Sinistra walked between rows with grace, offering corrections, asking questions, and pointing out the subtleties of brightness and color.
Cael paused once to look up directly at the sky, the vast yawn of the universe stretching overhead.
"It's strange," he murmured. "All of this existed long before us. And it'll go on long after."
Katie glanced sideways. "That's either really comforting… or kind of sad."
"Both," he said softly, smiling.
The night continued with quiet observations and whispered thoughts. By the end of the class, many students were yawning and nodding off beside their telescopes.
Professor Sinistra clapped her hands gently. "All right, my stargazers. Off you go. And please remember—twenty inches of parchment on tonight's lesson, including your charted constellations and Jupiter's moons. Due next session."
Groans echoed again, but sleep won out over complaint. One by one, the students gathered their things and descended the tower steps, their footsteps echoing softly against the stone.
Cael lingered just a moment longer, eyes still drawn to the sky.
There was something about the stars that felt like a promise.
System " Ok Don't act like some philosophical Main Character and go to sleep "
Cael just rolled his eyes and walked towards his Dormitory.