"The wand chooses the wizard - not an entirely accurate statement. It would be more accurate to say that the magic chooses the wizard."

Agnes glanced again to the clock hanging above the blackboard. There was at least fifteen minutes or so left of class. Agnes looked back to the students before her. Surprisingly, they were all intrigued by the topic of today's lecture.

"Magic chooses us by finding, and then selecting, the wand that allows the clearest communication for that individual witch or wizard. This is determined by a number of traits including personality, the arrangement of stars on the night of the wizards birth, and other bigoted ideas such as various arithmetic ratios that make up one's body. I would go on, but this is not Arithmancy. All in all, when choosing our wands, it is one of the most magically complex occurrences that we will probably ever experience in our lives.

"The movements of one's wand; the pronunciation of the spell; clearly picturing the nature of the spell in one's mind; one's emotions; and the confidence in casting is said to determine how well one communicates their intentions to magic. At least that is what we are taught in Charms. A rather false claim, I must say. Unless we use these principles while learning an entirely new spell."

Agnes paused to allow those who were writing notes to catch up. She scanned over the students. Most of the Ravenclaws were sending her questioning looks. This was Magical Theory. Not their oh-so-beloved Charms class. Agnes shook her head at just the thought. Most of those "charms" that they were learning were nothing more than incorrectly classified hexes or curses. She would have to make a note to go over the correct classification of spells very soon. And she would make sure that she went over the proper classification with every class - even the third years.

"The pronunciation of spells that Flitwick and the other professors are teaching you are nothing more than guidelines. The implication that the pronunciation of the spell is so very important is bogus. There are different variations of different spells with different variations of pronunciation. While some work better than others, it is not proven whether or not these pronunciations are what Magical Theory experts would call a spell's true name. The only real case where pronunciation is of the utmost importance is when we are trying to perform Transfiguration. One wrong move, or one wrong flick, can cause a mouse to be turned into a mutant rather than the preferred tea cup. I'm sure most of you have seen this with Professor McGonagall's exercises."

A wave of chuckles momentarily swept through the class.

"Through various languages, we are slowly working our way towards finding the True Name for magic. This theory, so far, states that Latin is the closest that we have come to the True Language of magic. Whatever the case may be, magic all comes down to how we communicate with it. However, I am afraid that the remainder of this discussion will have to wait for another day."

The class all looked to the clock hanging above the blackboard. It was time for the class to end and for them to enjoy having the rest of the afternoon class free. Those who were writing notes picked up the pace in their scrawling.

"Keep in mind that I will be moving at a faster pace next week to help you prepare for those midterms the other professors keep piping on about!"

Agnes had earned herself a few groans from the students who were still in earshot. The room was quickly emptying. Looking back at the clock herself, Agnes saw that she would easily have enough daylight left after grading the stack of papers on her desk. She had been itching to go to the Black Lake for a while, now. Agnes had found that she enjoyed spending time here and there with Hagrid. Hagrid was one of those people who don't judge you. He was nice to you as long as you were nice to him. Agnes liked that about Hagrid. First thing was first, though. The papers needed to be graded before she could start enjoying any free time.

Somehow, Agnes had managed to finish grading the huge stack of papers by 5:30 that afternoon. She had plenty of daylight left, as she had predicted, and an hour or so before it was time for dinner in the Great Hall. With a simple spell, the stacks of parchment organized themselves by class and by year. Agnes was hurriedly on her way out the door. Well, she was. Before an obstacle had gotten in her way. She had bumped into what felt to be a person. A taller person. Already knowing who it would be, Agnes hesitantly looked up to face Professor Severus Snape. "How may I help you today, Professor Snape?"

"You are needed at the bottom of the stairs in the main entry way. Flitwick asked me to fetch you. I suggest that you hurry." With nothing more to say, Severus turned on his heel and went on his way down the corridor.

That was rather odd…

Seeing as she was headed in that direction, anyway, Agnes didn't delay in going where she was told. She was greeted by an angry Professor Flitwick with an older, rather twiggy looking, Ravenclaw boy by his side.

"How dare you? Is all of this true, Blackwood?" Flitwick stood before Agnes with an accusing finger pointed at her. While seeing Flitwick wagging his finger at her wasn't exactly what Agnes would call intimidating, it was, however, puzzling.

Agnes could only blink in her obvious bout of confusion. "That would depend on what it is that we are talking about."

"It is about what you had said in class earlier, Professor Blackwood," the Ravenclaw boy said. "You had told us, and I quote, 'the pronunciation of spells are nothing more than guidelines.' Do you remember saying that, Professor?"

Agnes sighed and rolled her eyes. She crossed her arms over her chest as she shifted her weight onto the heel of one foot. "Why of course I remember saying those words. Because they are true."

"No! No they are not, Professor Blackwood! The wand movement and pronunciation of spells is very critical in assuring that the spell is executed correctly!"

"As says your textbooks, Professor Flitwick - not Magical Theory."

"Wand movements and pronunciation -"

"Are completely unnecessary." Agnes interrupted. "As I have told my students; pronunciation is nothing more than a guideline. We, as witches and wizards, have not yet found the correct True Language of Magic. What we have found are fragments of words and spells that can't even compare to all that magic is."

"In your lecture today, I believe that Rork told me you were discussing communication with magic. Without proper pronunciation, there exists no proper communication."

Agnes sighed again. "If this were true, Professor Flitwick - if it all were really that important - there wouldn't be wizards and witches whom are capable of wordless magic. Would there, now, Professor Flitwick?" Agnes placed her hands upon her hips and bend down to Flitwick's level.

The tiny professor was infuriated by this point. His body had begun to slightly shake from pent up anger. His face had begun to turn a bright crimson. Completely overcome by emotion, Professor Flitwick pulled out his wand and pointed it at Agnes. Agnes's wand was in-hand within the blink of an eye. "Going to Charm me, now, Professor?"

"Don't you tempt me, Blackwood!"

"Oh, but I'd love to know what you'd do to me!" An animalistic smirk spread across Agnes's lips. "Of course, you know, charms that are used in battle, or used to inflict some embarrassing demise upon one's victim, are not charms at all. They are indeed hexes. Or curses." Her smile broadened as her eyes widened in anticipation. The movements of Agnes's lips emphasized every syllable that she spoke. "Did you know that, Professor?"

Flitwick arched an eyebrow at Agnes's sudden change in behavior. This was not a normal sight that Flitwick was used to seeing. His wand-wielding hand lowered as Agnes's intimidating figure steadily crept toward him. She stood behind him now. Her chin was on his shoulder. Her lips were inches away from his ear. Flitwick could feel the breath from each and every word that she spoke. "Just like how many curses are improperly named. Take for example the Imperi-"

"Stop this at once!" A voice boomed into the entryway. The large cathedral-like ceilings only echoed the command. Agnes jumped away from Flitwick as Dumbledore came into the light. "What is the meaning of this?"

Flitwick stood dumbfounded. He was unable to properly form a sentence. Dumbledore glanced in Agnes's direction. Agnes only shrugged as she lifted her hands up in feigned confusion. The Ravenclaw student stepped forward. Though he was not quite sure what he had just witnessed himself, he knew that Flitwick was in no condition to intelligently speak. "You see Headmaster, Professor Blackwood had said to us in our lecture today that all that Professor Flitwick was teaching us was bigoted, wrong, and unnecessary."

Dumbledore didn't say a word. He only looked in Agnes's direction.

"Ah, but you did not tell the Headmaster all of what I had said. You merely gave him a part of a whole." Agnes crossed her arms in annoyance. "What exactly did I say Professor Flitwick was wrong about, Rork?"

Dumbledore looked back to the Ravenclaw student. Shifting his weight on the heels of his feet in discomfort, Rork answered, "Professor Blackwood had said that wand movements and spell pronunciation were … unnecessary."

"Yes. That is, indeed, what I said."

Dumbledore nodded. Agnes knew that Dumbledore himself was capable of performing wordless magic. She did not need to explain anything more to him on the matter."

"Professor Flitwick," Dumbledore said. "Why don't we all agree to disagree? It isn't wise for us to start quarrels within the staff."

Coming out of shellshock, Flitwick weakly nodded. "Y-Yes, Headmaster."

"Let us all continue about our business, then, and not worry on the matter."

"Y-Yes, Headmaster…" Flitwick nodded again. Without another word Flitwick turned and walked to wherever else it was that he had to be. Flitwick stole a glance at Agnes before completely leaving the entryway. His eyes read of confusion and fear. However, Flitwick remained silent as he continued he leave.

Dumbledore and Agnes both watched as Flitwick left. The Ravenclaw boy was soon to follow. The two were left alone at the bottom of the stairs. They both said nothing. Agnes had no doubt that Dumbledore had known what was about to happen and saved her from needing to explain any unpleasantries in the near future. She was grateful for that.

"Well," Agnes said. "Now that that is settled, Headmaster, I shall continue on my way to the Black Lake. I was hoping that I could perhaps have a chat with Hagrid."

"Ah, yes, of course," Dumbledore nodded. Agnes could tell that he knew having some time to herself was wise. "I hope to see you at supper, Professor Blackwood." Dumbledore bowed as he spoke his words.

Agnes gave Dumbledore a hollow smile and a nod. She then left the castle for the Black Lake.

She really needed to sit by the bank and have some time to think. She needed to re-evaluate the decision that she had made at the beginning of this Hogwarts school year. What could have happened if Dumbledore hadn't had shown up when he did?

Author's Note:

Hello.

It's been roughly a month since I have posted anything. I apologize for that. My attention has been on other matters. Like finding the most comfortable position whenever baby Atticus kicks. Or making sure that I am well enough rested to continue to go to work (even though I hate it with a passion).

I am sad to say that I don't know when the next time that I update will be for the baby shower is two weeks away. I will most likely be spending the majority of my free time planning that.

All in all, everything is great my way.

I would like to thank each and every one of you who vote and comment on this story. I am really grateful that I still have people are are hanging around for the updates that I posted. It's good to know that this story isn't abandoned and that there are people who enjoy what I am writing.

Thank you to all of you! :)

~ DJ-Kyoto