Chapter Twenty-Seven
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters nor the scenery, which you could recognise; the only thing I take credit for is the plot.
Pairings: Severus/Marvolo.
Warnings: Dark Harry, Dumbledore, Hermione, and Weasley bashing (excluding Bill, Charlie, Fred, and George).
Word Count: 5,427
Date Written: 17/09/2021
Aldwyn startles out of his musings when the door to the Transfiguration classroom swings open and McGonagall stands staring over her glasses at them all, seemingly sizing them all up before she steps to the side to allow them entrance. He follows his friends to the back of the classroom, taking a seat this time by Blaise while Draco slips onto the desk with Theo, Gregory, and Vincent sitting behind them. Aldwyn miles a little at the arrangement, feeling as if he is a celebrity surrounded by bodyguards, which he supposes they are in a roundabout way. Or they will be once he decides to indite them into his own little faction.
Pulling out his Transfiguration textbook, parchment and quill Aldwyn sits with his hands in his lap waiting patiently for Professor McGonagall to begin the lesson. She stands in front of her desk, still staring around the room as the Slytherin follow Aldwyn's example while the Gryffindors instantly slump in their seat, heads resting on their hands as they stare blankly at the walls.
"Welcome to Second-Year Transfiguration. This year we will continue to study the intricate studies of spelling inanimate objects into something else. You will be working individually throughout this year and I expect each of you to try your best during my lessons, any slacking off and you will be punished." Professor McGonagall glares down at her own house much to the amusement of Aldwyn and his friends, though the others don't seem to be paying much attention to their professor's warning.
"Mister Finnegan. If I were to ask you to light me a fire using muggle means which spell could assist you in this?"
"Ummm, I don't know Professor." The Irish boy jumps out of his stupor, staring at his Head of House for a moment before shaking his head in a negative. Blaise sniggers.
"Can anyone help Mister Finnigan?"
Aldwyn and his housemates all slowly raise their hands having been tutored by their parents and spending some of their free time ensuring that they had revised and memorised most of the work they had covered the previous school year. It wouldn't have done them much good to turn up to Second Year having forgotten all of the basics, especially when some of the First-Year courses covered the theory behind spell work they were going to be practising this year. Granger gasps, holding her breath as she waves her hand frantically in the air, silently begging the Professor to call on her.
"Yes, Miss Granger."
"You could use the Flintifors spell, Professor. It turns any target object into a matchbox."
"Correct, Miss Granger."
"Professor?" Aldwyn calls quietly, raising his hand once more into the air to garner her attention. He smiles a little when Professor McGonagall nods her head for him to continue. Maybe she really had decided to head his Papa's advice about her behaviour.
"Wouldn't the witch or wizard performing the Flintifors spell need to be highly advanced in order to transfigure the target object into a matchbox filled with matches? And they would need to be familiar with the mechanics of how a matchbox works in the first place, wouldn't they?"
Professor McGonagall, as well as many of his classmates, turn to look at him, the Gryffindor's snickering behind their hands at his questions while his friends merely nod along in agreement. If they had been asked to use the matchbox last year to start an actual fire, none of them would have been able to do it. They didn't even know how to do it now.
"What makes you think that Mister Prince-Slytherin?"
"Well, Professor, from what I could gather from reading the First-Year textbook one must visualise exactly what the object they are wishing to transform into what they wish it to become. Even if the Flintifors spell has been designed to transfigure something into a matchbox specifically, the castor will still need to visualise what they want the matchbox to look like. I know that the rough segment on the side of the box is used to light the matches, so I would know to ensure that this is included in my visualisation. However, a pureblood or a half-blood who hasn't been raised by a muggle parent will have no idea."
"Ah, yes I see where you are coming from, Mister Prince Slytherin. You are, of course partially correct. However, because this spell is specifically designed to transfigure objects into a matchbox, the finished project will include the basic features of a matchbox."
"Oh, I see but Professor if this is true for the Flintifors spell then shouldn't this be true to when we turn a match into a needle. There is a specific spell for this and yet if one does not visualise the eye and the point then the finished product will not incorporate these things, despite them both being key features of a needle?"
Professor McGonagall allows a small smile to curl the corners of her lips at the child, allowing some of her distrust to melt away. How could she not when the child was naturally inquisitive and showing great interest in her subject. She hadn't had a child like this since Lily Evans, the girl had been a brilliant transfigurations student and could have easily achieved a mastery in the subject. She would have to inform Severus of his son's diligence.
"That is because the spell to turn a match into a needle isn't specifically designed for this purpose. The spell is one that has many uses and can turn a great many things into most other objects. You will learn more about this particular spell as you progress through the years."
"Okay, thank you, Professor. I will look forward to learning more." Aldwyn allows his tension, which had been building since entering the classroom, to melt away at the lack of venom or disdain in the Professor's voice as she answers his questions. Turning back to his textbook, Aldwyn shoots a quick smirk to Blaise and Draco, who smiles in return.
"5 points to Slytherin for your well thought out questions, Mister Prince-Slytherin, I am glad that you have taken it upon yourself to catch up on the work you have missed. Alright, now I set you all some summer homework to research the Reparifarge incantation and write a short one-foot essay on its uses and such."
Multiple groans echo around the room as students reluctantly reach into their bags for the homework they most likely rushed to complete at the last minute. Aldwyn withholds a snigger when McGonagall raises her eyebrow at the completed essay, he lays on the table in front of himself. Clearly, she hadn't expected him to have done it.
"Who can tell me what this spell does? Mister Goyle?"
"A reversal spell for transfiguration spells."
"Correct, Mister Goyle. Can anyone expand on this? Yes, Mister Nott?"
"Raparifarge is, as Gregory stated, a spell which is used to undo any transfiguration spell. It can be used on Incomplete or partial transfigurations or complete ones. However, it may not always work with the partial transfigurations."
"Excellent. 5 points to Slytherin. Who would like to attempt to demonstrate this spell? Yes, Miss Patil."
The girl, an inch or so shorter than Aldwyn stands from her seat, tucking her hair behind her ear as she walks up to the teacher's desk where McGonagall places a grey, furry cauldron with a tail. A sight that causes more than a few students to snicker. She takes a deep breath, draws her wand, waving it in a wide semi-circle.
"Reparifarge!"
The cauldron spins around once as soon as the white beam of light hits it, reverting back into a slightly overweight cat who meows pitifully at having been left for so long as a partially inanimate object.
"Well done, Miss Patil. 5 points to Gryffindor. Now, I would like for all of you to attempt this spell on your own Cauldrons. Remembers the wand movements, swing your wand arm from right to left in a smooth arch and visualise the object turning back."
Once again Aldwyn raises his hand, waiting patiently for McGonagall to finish her explanation and call on him before asking his question.
"Professor McGonagall, I believe this coincides with my previous questions but if one were to come across something which they know to be transfigured, however, they do not know what it has been transfigured from; how are they supposed to use Reparifarge to turn it back if you have to visualise what it once was?"
"Ah, Mister Prince-Slytherin, as I said earlier, this is a further brand of Transfiguration which you will learn as your Magical Core grows. I will be going into further detail about the Reparifarge in a few years."
"Okay, thank you, Professor."
The classroom falls almost silent as the students take out their wands, McGonagall distributes the cauldrons in front of each student before gesturing for them all to begin. It was here, at this point where Aldwyn noticed the disparities be those born and raised in wizarding households and those who were raised by non-magical and muggle households. He, along with all of his friends and housemates (as well as one or two of the Gryffindor students) were much more comfortable with holding their wands, were much more at ease trying out new spells. They took to learning magic at a quicker rate compared to those born in muggle families, and even those who have one magical and one muggle/muggle-born parent.
Although he hadn't been bought up in a completely magical household before he arrived at Hogwarts, he had been able to spend his entire summer holiday practicing his First-year spells and even some magic from the upcoming curriculums. As had Draco, Blaise, and most likely any other student who lived in a magical home. His father had explained it to him before because he was living in such close proximity to adults who could perform magic, the Ministry would turn a blind eye when his trace went off because he had proper instruction. He had fully qualified wizards in close proximity to teach him, whereas Muggle-born children and those who lived with at least one muggle parent didn't have as much support and training which would assist in the growth of their magical core and control.
Aldwyn twirls his wand around his fingers, leaning his head on his hand as he loses himself deep in thought, absently turning his cauldron back into a small fluffy cat., he doesn't notice the wide-eyed expression his Professor is shooting him as he performs the spell non-verbally. Maybe he could speak to his Father and Papa about the Primary school they had been talking about setting up? He knows that they wanted to include Muggle-born children. He also was told by his Father that when a child is born and begins to manifest a magical core and when they start to perform acts of accidental magic their names are automatically added to a child registry in the Ministry of Magic.
A sharp jab to his side breaks Aldwyn out of his thoughts. Startling, Aldwyn glances to his side, eyebrow raising at Blaise when the boy places a hand over his wand arm halting his movements.
"Would you stop with the wordless magic, Aldwyn? I think you broke Professor McGonagall."
Glancing down at the intricately designed cauldron sitting where the kitten had been sat just moments before, Aldwyn feels a flush coating his cheeks. He hadn't actually realised he had been doing magic at all let alone non-verbal. Casting a quick glance up at his Professor, Aldwyn feels his flush deepening at the gobsmacked expression on her face. No doubt his Papa and his Father were going to be hearing about this by the end of the day. He tenses when Professor McGonagall breaks herself out of her stupor and begins to make her way over to his desk only relaxing when the bell sounds to show the end of the lesson. Professor McGonagall's expression sours for a moment, eyebrows furrowing as her shoulders slump, a sigh escapes her lips before she turns to face the class.
"Before you all pack your belongings away, I would like for you to make a note of your homework due next lesson. I would like for you all to write a 2-foot essay on how to prevent a poor transfiguration job and how you can rectify your mistakes if one should occur. Aldwyn, please stay behind for a moment."
"I'll be okay, go have a short break and I will meet you in the common room or outside the classroom for our next lesson," Aldwyn assures his friends when he catches their suspicious expressions. Honestly, he was a little nervous himself but was trying to put on a brave front. Maybe Professor McGonagall was merely going to offer him a quick apology for last night and let him leave.
"Are you sure, Aldwyn? We can wait outside the classroom for you?"
"No, I should be okay. Nothing is going to happen to me in here. I mean it would be a whole different story if this were Dumbledore, but I will meet up with you guys in a bit, okay?"
The pair nod, cracking small smiles at Aldwyn's whispered jab against the Headmaster but they have to agree with him, Professor McGonagall wasn't going to do anything to hurt or upset Aldwyn, not when all of his friends knew exactly where he is and no doubt, after how she treated him, Aldwyn wouldn't hesitate to report her to his Papa. Waving his friends away, Aldwyn watches as they finally leave the classroom. Turning his attention to his Professor, Aldwyn allows a small smile to tug at the corners of his mouth, attempting to look calm and nonchalant about being asked to stay behind by McGonagall.
"Mister Prince-Slytherin?"
"Yes, Professor?"
Professor McGonagall, sighs. Pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose she walks towards her desk and takes a seat, gesturing for Aldwyn to do the same. Walking closer to his Professor, Aldwyn declines the offered seat, he didn't want to be here any longer than he needed to be, and seating himself would invite a longer, more personal conversations, something he is hoping to avoid at all costs.
"Mister Prince-Slytherin, I would like to apologise for my unprofessional and frankly misguided actions towards you during the sorting at the beginning of term. It never occurred to me that neither of your Fathers would take the traditions here at Hogwarts so seriously. Nor was I aware that your cousin, Mister Malfoy had neglected to tell you as well."
"It is alright, Professor. I know you weren't deliberately trying to make me feel like I wasn't wanted at Hogwarts, nor were you trying to embarrass me in front of the entire school, you merely weren't aware of the fact that I was ill-informed. I apologise for the inconvenience my not-knowing caused you." Alwyn tries desperately to hide his growing smirk at the crippling regret spreading across his professor's face, elation fills his chest.
"You have no reason to apologise, Mister Prince-Slytherin. I am the one at fault and I truly apologise if I made you feel unwanted, humiliated, or bullied on your first night here at Hogwarts, that was never truly my intention. I only hope that you can forgive me."
"Of course, Professor."
The pair stands in silence after Aldwyn's acceptance, awkwardly staring at each other waiting for someone to break the silence. Shifting his bag higher on his shoulder, Aldwyn allows a lopsided smile to tug at the corner of his lips, fingers gripping the strap of his bag.
"Well, Professor. If there is nothing else…"
"Ah, no. I apologise for keeping you, Aldwyn. I will let you get back to your friends and enjoy the rest of your break. If there is anything you do not understand with the homework or any future lessons, then feel free to come to find me in my office."
"Thank you, Professor. I will keep that in mind." Aldwyn smiles, bowing his head to his Transfigurations Professor, he spins on his heels leaving the classroom before she has the chance to think of anything else to speak with him about.
Aldwyn sighs, shaking his head as he leans against the wall outside their new Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. This was the lesson he was least looking forward to. He had hoped, when he had picked up his books with his Father and Papa, that this Lockhart person, despite being an attention-seeking grimp, would at least know what he is talking about. He had been highly disappointed. Upon reaching the Manor, Aldwyn had instantly secreted himself away in the family library to study his textbooks for the upcoming academic year. His excitement quickly dashed when he opens Gilderoy Lockhart's books.
According to the pompous wizard, he had managed to beat a Vampire so hard that he could only eat salad for the rest of his days. The scoff that escaped his throat had been harsh. The only Vampires he knew of, and he had questioned his Father extensively, that could stand to eat anything of substance; that was anything relatively human and non-raw, were Ancients. Ancient Vampires were those who had aged well over 500 years and could stand to eat human foods, be out in the sunlight without spontaneously combusting (though it did make them slightly lethargic). It was laughably stupid.
It only got worse from there. The books themselves were ridiculously written and inconsistent. One minute he would be talking about his spectacular defeat of the Yeti, a Muggle creature of legend (though a rare and thought to be an extinct creature in the wizarding world; to talk about his ideal gift or even his favourite color. It was clear to Aldwyn, and he was only twelve years old, that this man was a complete and utter fraud. That he had, no doubt, stollen the stories from well-meaning adventuring wizards and passed them off as his own. He just hadn't been entirely sure why none of the original hero's had spoken up about such behaviour before.
"This lesson is going to suck." Draco's voice pulls him out of his memories. Glancing across at his Godbrother, Aldwyn nods his head in agreement.
"I can agree with you on that, Draco. Have you read his books?"
"Yes, they are complete and utter nonsense. I can't believe Dumbledore would even consider hiring him to teach."
"I can. That man is barmy. I think he is a few ingredients short of a potion if you get what I mean." Blaise puts in, smirking at the offended expressions stretching across some of the Gryffindor students' faces at his remark.
"That goes without saying, Blaise. My Father suspects him to be hiding something more sinister; I mean stories of the supposed 'safest place in England' reached us. A troll roaming around the castle? A possessed Professor who made multiple attempts on a students' life thought out the year? One of the most sought after, rare magical artifacts in the wizarding world hidden within a school full of impressionable children? Just what is the headmaster thinking?"
"We know, Aldwyn. It is ridiculous. Did you know that when Quirrell, the possessed professor, came running into the Great Hall shouting about there being a Troll in the Dungeons, Professor Dumbledore ordered all houses to make their way to the common rooms?"
"But the Slytherin Common Room is in the Dungeons… Not to mention that the Hufflepuffs would have to walk that way to get to their own Dorms as well. Clearly, he doesn't care much for his students. My Father did warn me about him."
"Exactly, that is why our Prefects escorted us to the Library instead. There was no way we were going to travel through the Dungeons to meet a fully grown mountain troll."
Aldwyn shakes his head, "I have to wonder what is wrong with this country. How is Dumbledore still Headmaster after all that?"
"He stopped the word from getting out. No one outside the faculty and those students involved knows the whole truth. I only know because Uncle Sev told my Father during the summer. I think Uncle Severus would make a good Headmaster when the old man is sacked." Draco muses, drawing a chuckle from Blaise and Aldwyn.
"That he would, but do you think he would accept the position? Papa isn't the fondest of children after all."
"I am sure your Fathers would be able to talk him into it. Once they get McGonagall out of the way of course. She would be the natural second choice."
"That is a good point, Blaise."
Their conversation is cut short when a shrill voice echoes through the corridor, startling Aldwyn.
"You can't say that about Professor Dumbledore, he is the greatest wizard in England."
"Oh? How so?"
"He is the most powerful. He defeated the Dark Lord Grindelwald."
"He also was the reason behind the disappearance of your Saviour and supposed best friend. Was it not the almighty 'Light Lord Dumbledore' who left a baby, the baby who had just defeated the Dark Lord with Muggles? Was it not those muggles who abused, neglected, and starved the young Saviour? Is that how the wizarding world thanks the child who put a stop to the War?"
"You don't know anything about it. Dumbledore put Harry with his family, they would keep him safe and away from all the wizarding world who would try to manipulate him."
"Oh, really? That didn't work out in his favour though, did it? Those muggles, his family are the reason why no one can find him and why he is assumed dead. Did you not read the Article, Granger? I thought you were supposed to be smart."
Before the girl could make a comeback, the door to the classroom is thrown open, the wooden door causing a resounding bang to travel through the corridors as Gilderoy Lockhart comes into view, his smile a little too wide as he shows of his obviously bleached teeth. Gesturing for the children to enter, Aldwyn is quick to find his seat, and pull all seven of Lockhart's books out of his bag. He hadn't been sure which one they would be using if any, and with his bag being charm feather-light he didn't need to worry about it being too heavy. Besides, it stopped him from sneering at the man himself.
When everyone had found a seat, Draco and Blaise taking his sides, Gilderoy Lockhart clears his throat gaining the attention of his students as silence falls. Walking around the room, eyes traveling across the young children staring at him expectantly, Lockhart picks up Longbottom's copy of his book Travels with Trolls. Holding it up to his face, he displays the image of himself on the cover winking down at his audience, a sickeningly sweet smile on his lips.
"Me," he points to the image, winking alongside it. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League and five times winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award – but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!" (Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets; pg77)
No one laughed as he expected them to, many of the Slytherin students merely sneered up at the man as the Gryffindor girls sigh dreamily, staring up at their professor. It was a sickening sight to Aldwyn and his friends.
"There must be something wrong with them." Pansy's voice whispers in the silence, drawing snickers from her housemates and nods of agreement from Daphne and Tracy.
"Ah, I see you have all gone out and bought the full collection of my books. Well done. I thought I would see what you have managed to obtain through reading them all by starting with a little quiz."
Walking up and down the aisles, Lockhart hands out the papers before returning to the front of the classroom, glancing around the room he claps his hands. "You have thirty minutes. Begin!"
Aldwyn sighs, glancing down at the question sheet in front of himself. He frowns heavily as he reads through the questions slowly. Then again.
1. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favourite colour?
2. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?
3. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?
On and on it went, each question more ridiculous than the last. Aldwyn was disgusted to note that not a single question pertained to actual Defence Against the Dark Arts, nor about protections spells, no, all of the questions were about the man.
54. When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?
Aldwyn is exceptionally pleased when Lockhart finally claps his hands, grinning down at them all as he walks around the classroom to collect the parchments up. Aldwyn raises his eyebrow.
"Why doesn't he just summon them like all the other professors? Wouldn't it be much easier?"
"Maybe he doesn't know how?" Draco snickers along with Blaise, Aldwyn's frown deepens however, maybe Draco wasn't as far from the truth as they thought. He eyes the man suspiciously as he flicks through their tests.
"Tut tut. Hardly any of you knew that my favourite colour is Lilac, I mention that in my book Year with a Yeti. Many of you, it seems, need to read Wandering with Werewolves again, I clearly state that my ideal gift would be harmony between all magical and non-magical people."
Aldwyn shivers in disgust at the man's over-exaggerated frown of disappointment as Draco, Blaise and many of the Gryffindor students snigger quietly at the Professor. How did Dumbledore think this man could teach any child in this school if they couldn't listen to him for more than five minutes without laughing at him, and not in the best way either. It was Ludicrous. Hopefully, he could ask his Papa for more help with his studies this year, the man was brilliant at the Dark Arts and Defence, though Dumbledore for some reason refuses to give his Papa the position of DADA professor. His Father would be all too happy to help as well during the school breaks.
A crow a delight brings his attention back to the Professor who is staring down at one of the tests, his eyes sparkling with delight as a creepy smile stretches across his lips.
"Ah. It seems that Miss Granger knew that my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and begin my own line of hair-care products. Actually-" He flips through her quiz parchment, smile growing with each page. "Full marks, yes. Where is Miss Granger?"
The girl raises her hand, a pale flush dusting her cheeks as she smiles shyly up at the Professor. Aldwyn grimaces, it seems that the Gryffindor know-it-all has a crush on their professor.
"How sickening," Blaise mutters, glaring over at the girl. Their friends nod in agreement.
"Take 10 points for Gryffindor, Miss Granger. A very well done indeed."
Dropping the parchments down onto his desk, Lockhart lifts a large, covered cage onto its surface; a smug grin tugging at his lips as he surveys the silent room. "Now, down to business. My job is to teach you how to defend yourselves against the foulest creatures this world has to offer. You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room-"
"Not likely. Unless he has a boggart under that cloth." Draco mutters, arms folding over his chest as he frowns at their professor. Aldwyn nods in agreement, the noise coming from the cage sounding oddly familiar to him.
"Know that no harm will befall you since I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm and still." Lockhart pauses, for dramatic effect Aldwyn assumes before he whips the sheets of displaying a cage full of small blue pixies.
The Slytherins gasp, staring at the little creatures in trepidation. Their parents had warned about the tricky little things. They may not have been big in size, nor have great magical strength behind them but they were tricky, pranksters and liked to cause all sorts of havoc. They were more nuisances than dangerous, but it was best to keep their guards up, especially with a man like Lockhart around. The Gryffindors namely Finnigan and Thomas snort with suppressed laughter.
"Freshly caught Cornish Pixies!"
"They're not exactly dangerous, are they Sir?" Finnigan chokes out, face reddening with laughter.
"I wouldn't be so sure! Tricky little blighters, these pixies." Lockhart waggles his finger at the Gryffindors, grin turning into a smirk when he sees the disbelieving expressions on the students' faces. Especially when all the pixies were doing was chattering amongst themselves, rattling on the bars of the cage, and pulling bizarre faces at the students closest to them, even Neville was smiling at the little creatures.
"Well then, let's see what you think of them now!" Lockhart shouts, flicking the lock of the cage up.
Pandemonium strikes. The eight-inch little critters throw the cage door open, soaring out into the classroom at rapid speed. Some shoot out of the windows blowing glass across the back two rows drawing screams from the students sitting there as small scrapes and cuts decorate their hands and faces. Two fly towards Longbottom and lift him into the air, hooking the back of his cloak onto the chandelier so he is dangling several feet above the ground. The rest fly around the room destroying anything and everything in their paths. Damaging the classroom more effectively than a herd of stampeding Unicorns. Within a few minutes, books had been shredded, parchment torn, ink bottles seized and sprayed around the classroom and many students had taken to sheltering under their desks.
"Come now, round them up. They are only pixies." Lockhart shouts, brandishing his wand as he points up into the air. "Peskipiksi Pesternomi!"
Aldwyn's eyes widen in horror, that wasn't a real spell. He watched as nothing happened but a tiny spark fizzling at the tip of Lockhart's wand. One of the Pixies dashes forward steals his wand and throws it out the shattered window. Despite the havoc going on around him, Aldwyn chuckles when their professor dives under his own desk, narrowly missing being squashed by Longbottom as he falls from the chandelier as it gives way.
The bell rings, not a moment too soon and there is a mad scurry to the door as the students attempt to escape from the pixies. Lockhart drags himself out from under his desk and, spotting Draco, Blaise, and Aldwyn making their way to the door, stops them.
"I'll just let you three get the rest of them back into their cage, shall I?"
Dashing around the stunned students, Lockhart runs up the stairs and locks himself in his office, leaving the three Slytherin Students to attempt to lock the creatures back into their cage before they make their escape into the hall. Aldwyn quickly slams the door shut, rolling his eyes at his friends the three pull their wands free of their holsters, pointing them up at the critters.
"Anyone know any good spells?"
Blaise shouts above the noise, eyeing the pixies warily, he didn't want his wand flying out any windows anytime soon.
"Immobulus!" Aldwyn incants, watching in fascination as all the pixies in the room freeze mid-movement ignoring the gobsmacked expressions on his friends' faces.
"Accio Pixies!" Directing the critters into their cage, Aldwyn quickly locks it again breathing a sigh of relief when he manages to catch them all before his spell wore off, he didn't wish to deal with irate pixies after they had been frozen.
"That was brilliant, Aldwyn. How do you know that spell?"
"Father taught me the Immobulus charm during the summer, while Bill helped me perfect the Summoning charm."
"That spell is at least fourth-year level, though." Blaise breathed, eyes filled with awe as he stares at Aldwyn, eyes flicking towards the cage of pixies.
"Bill is a very good teacher. He thought it would come in handy for me to know." Aldwyn shrugs, he hadn't asked Bill what level the spell was, it hadn't interested him much, he just knew that it would save him a lot of time and effort if he knew such a charm and so he had practiced thoroughly.
"Can you teach us?"
"Yes, of course. We can practice during our study sessions."
"Cool."
A/N
Hiya guys, I am so sorry about the delay in releasing this chapter. I was having a major case of writer's block and could only write about 200 words or so at a time, it was really getting to me. I apologise profusely!
Also, the next chapter or so will also be a little late. I have been having issues with my wrist for the past two weeks and finally managed to get into my local GP surgery, turns out I have Carpal Tunnel Syndrome in my wrist, and not only is it painful to use my wrist for ages (especially typing) I have to keep it strapped up in a metal-plated wrist support which limits my movement and I can barely use it, let alone type anything up for long periods of times without being in agony. Please bare with me!
~Jay-Jay