Disclaimer: Anything recognizable from the published Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling, just like it did in the last three chapters.
Hannah Korvil, Jaci Grassik, and mages in general belong to Quilynn. If you enjoy this, you will probably like her Hannah's Hufflepuff Concerto as well.
The Ravenclaw students, along with Tom Prewett and Michael Foster, are mine, though if Rowling wishes to use them she is more than welcome to.
"Alright," Stebbens broke the silence that had followed Flitwick's exit. "Let's all take a moment to calm down, pray, or whatever." She paused a few seconds, then continued, "Now back to work."
Subdued, everyone set to making the feathers float. Richard got his almost immediately, made sure Lochrin and Bradley had it worked out, and then went to check on the Hufflepuffs. He was just approaching Eleanor Branstone when the girl Flitwick had sent ahead returned.
"Glad to see we aren't letting Hannah's faint worry us," she said coldly.
"People faint. It happens," said one of the Hufflepuff boys - Cauldwell, perhaps? - calmly enough. "She'll be fine."
"I'm sure Madame Pomfrey can handle it," added Sophia. "At any rate, this is what Professor Flitwick told us to do, so we're working on it."
"If nothing else," Richard added under his breath, "keeping occupied keeps people from worrying." Eleanor heard him, and shot a look somewhere between understanding and annoyance.
Meanwhile, the girl - Miss Grassik, Professor Flitwick had called her - stalked back to her desk. "Wingardium Leviosa!" she snapped, giving a very quick swish-and-flick. The feather immediately leapt into the air - not a sustained hover, but a jump two feet up. Unfortunately, it also burst into flame.
Richard, only one desk back with Eleanor, cast a quick charm to put it out. "Careful," he warned Grassik. "Strong emotion or thoughts can affect your magic, even if the words and gesture are right. Take a moment to calm down and try it again."
She gave him a considerably less than calm look, and when she tried again (with a new feather) she seemed not so much calm as tightly controlled. Richard had the distinct feeling that she was not from a Hufflepuff background. More likely Slytherin, Durmstang, or a slightly dysfunctional muggle family.
By the time Flitwick got back, the entire class could at least get the feather off the desk, though they varied widely in how much control they had over it. Apparently content with that, he let them go early with instructions to practice the spell and write a brief essay on what problems they had with it and how they dealt with them.
The Hufflepuffs still seemed subdued at dinner, but the Ravenclaws mainly dropped the problem; injuries at Hogwarts were common enough, if usually with more direct and obvious causes, and Madame Pomfrey had little trouble sorting them out. Richard, personally, was just plain curious. He'd never heard of anything like that happening before, but then he'd never heard of a mage at Hogwarts either. He resolved to find everything he could on the subject.
"Anyone have any clue why that would have happened? With Korvil, that is," he added, realizing he had no idea what his year-mates had been discussing and it was all to obvious why Grassik's feather had burnt up.
"If the wand isn't well-matched to the wizard, anything can happen," opined Stebbens. "I had a cousin whose spells all came out thirty seconds late because he was using a hand-me-down."
"I've heard you can overload yourself trying to handle too much magic at once," added Bradley. "Maybe since she's a mage she can hardly hold wizard magic at all."
"Or she could've just passed out," pointed out Lochrin, rolling his eyes. "Dehydration, exhaustion, health problems. It happens all the time, you know."
"Less common in wizards," Stebbens explained, "though now that I think of it I have no idea if that's also true for mages."
"What the heck are mages, anyway?" Lochrin asked. "It just means a magic-user, doesn't it? Same thing as wizard, I'd think."
The purebloods paused, reminding themselves that a few months ago Lochrin had known nothing about magic that didn't come out of ridiculous works of fiction. "It's a different kind of magic," Richard explained after a moment. "They don't use wands or incantations, just direct mental power. They have their own school, which a Korvil is headmaster of - I'm not sure how he's related to Hannah. There are a couple different types; the most famous and dangerous are mind mages - they can poke around inside your brain, even make you think or feel things."
"Their magic doesn't interfere with muggle stuff the same way ours does," added Stebbens. "Mages have electricity in their houses, which wizards can't unless we use almost no magic at home."
"Why would we want it?" asked Bradley.
"You'd be surprised," answered Stebbens. "Muggles manage some amazing things without magic. You'd think we could at least borrow the printing press and typewriters." She glanced around, seeing that most of her year-mates had no idea what she meant, and waved the subject away. "Never mind. But you guys really need to get out more."
"You have no idea," Lochrin told her. "I was telling Finn about playing synth, and not only had he not heard of either synthesizers or electric keyboards, he didn't even know what electricity was." Stebbens bit her lip, trying not to laugh; Richard exchanged a glance with Bradley, confirming that he, too, had no idea what a synthesizer was.
"Wait," Stebbens said, "you play synth? How well?"
"I got into Ravenclaw, didn't I?" answered Lochrin with smirk.
"Come on, then," Stebbens said, dragging him off. Richard was highly confused, and suspected he was not alone. But Ravenclaws had more pride than Slytherins (and better reasons), so no one admitted it as they changed the subject.
Shortly after getting back to the common room, Richard decided that the syn-whatever Lochrin played must be a muggle version of piano; this seemed the only logical reason for Lochrin and Stebbens to appeared with Professor Flitwick, shrinking a baby grand so that it fit through door and then expanding it back (come to think of it, where had the piano come from? Surely they hadn't just transfigured a desk; well, with McGonagall and Flitwick working together one couldn't be sure). Stebbens ran into the her room, and returned momentarily with a violin; seeing the two of them, a handful of older students quickly returned to their own rooms. Within minutes, the duo had been joined by another violin, a trio of third years with hand drums, a fourth year with a trumpet, and a second year with a lute. Richard joined the others gathering around to hear.
Of course, being Ravenclaw, a good number of them were doing homework as they listened, at least until the lutist brought out a Weird Sisters songbook; at that point, nearly everyone gave up on getting anything done in favor of singing along.
Richard did, however, make sure to check through Forty Basic Defensive Charms before the night was over; he had potions with Slytherins the next day.
As it happened, the potions class wasn't where he needed the spells. Either because Snape was still intimidating to the first year Slytherins, because this year's Slytherins weren't as bad as their elders, or because Ravenclaw seemed less objectionable than the alternatives, the class went by with barely a hitch. The problem came afterwards, at the top of the stairs leading out of the dungeons.
He was just reaching the hall when his shoelaces caught, sending him face down on the floor. As the other students in the hallway laughed, he glanced down to see his shoelaces hadn't caught - between one step and the other they'd tied themselves together. "That was mature," he muttered, undoing the hex with a flick of his wand.
Glancing around, he immediately spotted a slightly older Gryffindor casting the same spell at one of the Slytherins coming up the stairs. Running briefly through the spells he'd read the night before, Richard drew his wand and pointed it at the bully.
"Expelliarmus!" The older student beat him to it. "You should be more careful, boy," he sneered, twirling Richard's wand in his fingers. "Ought to know better-"
"Accio Wand!" Richard shouted, his other wand (courtesy of Roderick's) hidden in the left sleeve of his robe. "Expelliarmus!" The first spell yanked his Ollivander's wand back to him, but the second, though cast with the better wand, only made the other boy's wand twitch in his hand.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" the Gryffindor shouted, sending the helmet from a nearby suit of armor flying at Richard.
"Expulio!" Richard answered; the banishing charm didn't so much deflect the helmet as slow it down enough that it hit the floor halfway to him.
"Locomotor Mortis!"
"Protego!"
The other boy's hex hit Richard's shield, broke through it, and locked his legs together, sending him sprawling; hastily, he cast a "Finite Incantatem" to free himself. Before he could think of what to cast next, a familiar redhead was stepping between him and the bully.
"What're you doing, Foster?" Tom demanded, sounding less hostile than he should have if this was Michael Foster's brother.
"Just goofing around, and the kid didn't take it well," answered the other boy - Foster - with a smirk. "I was just about to finish it up."
"Finish what up?" demanded a prim and beautifully familiar voice.
"Oh, hi Professor," said Tom cheerfully as the crowd of students parted to let McGonagall through. The deputy headmistress simply glanced around, seeing the circle that had formed and the three students inside it. "Mr. Prewett, Mr. Foster, and Mr. Davitt, come with me. Everyone else, get on with your day."
Silent but fuming, she led them to her office and flooed Professor Flitwick, who immediately stepped in.
"Now, would you like to tell me what precisely was going on?" she demanded.
"Davitt is an old friend of mine," Tom explained. "I'd mentioned him to Foster, said how he knows more than most third years. Foster said he wanted to see it, but I didn't think he'd be dumb enough to do it in the hall."
"You do not know Mr. Foster as well as I do, then," McGonagall said, sparing the boy a glare. "And you, Davitt, what were you thinking?"
"I. . . wasn't, professor. I was just mad that he had hexed my shoelaces together, and then I was just reacting as it went."
"'Not thinking' is a very poor showing for a Ravenclaw," said Flitwick. "Regardless of what some others may do." He cast a glance that seemed to include both Foster and Tom, and perhaps their house as a whole. "Were you hurt?"
"By him?" Richard asked in disgust. "I got knocked down, but that was all. If Tom hadn't stepped in when he did, Foster would've needed the Hospital Wing more than I did." The older boy's jaw dropped, but Tom caught his shoulder before he could be dumb enough to say anything.
Flitwick, on the other hand, seemed to be restraining a smile behind his glare. "Let me see your wand." Richard handed it over, and his head of house cast a "priori incantatem;" shadows of the spells he'd cast came out in reverse order. "Tell me, Mr. Prewett, how is it that on your second day of classes you already know these spells?"
"I have potions with Slytherin and Flying with Gryffindor. It seemed wise to be prepared." Even McGonagall's lips twitched at that.
"What do you think, Filius? Five points from each house?"
"Fair enough. I hope t his shall not become an issue again." Flitwick gave Richard a very direct look.
"Indeed," McGonagall agreed, glancing significantly at her own students. "Especially as this brings Gryffindor down to zero. Next time I would have no choice but to issue detention."
