Another delay, but this time its not my fault! The site was down. However, next week i have every intention of posting another chapter to try to get back on track. Maxximus is finally taking classes! As promised many moons ago, I will try to delve and expand magical lore where possible. We're all at Hogwarts now.
Happy reading!
Chapter 10 - Charms and Potions
Maxximus left the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, his thoughts consumed with how he would manage his studies without knowing how to read English. The Praetor's warning about Professor Quirrell also echoed in his mind. The Praetor seemed genuinely worried about Quirrell, yet the professor had been nothing but helpful so far. Just like the professor said 'constant vigilance is your best defense', after all, he did not quite know the Praetor either. Nonetheless, Maxximus was determined to succeed, but the weight of this challenge loomed large in his mind. Reading and writing seem to be pivotal to learning here, for now he would have to make do without somehow. His mother's last instructions echoed in his mind 'Remember to learn. Remember to do what is right, not what is easy. Remember who you are.' He could do that; he would learn whichever way he could and he would make his mom proud.
As he walked through the bustling corridor, he spotted Hermione, the girl with the bushy hair, heading in the same direction. Taking a deep breath, he followed her, hoping he was on the right track. He soon found himself at the door of the Charms classroom. Hermione glanced at him as he entered, and he decided to take a seat next to her.
"Hello, Hermione," he said with a small smile. "I'm glad we share this class. I feel a bit lost in this huge school."
Hermione looked up, her eyes wide with a mix of wonder and curiosity. "Hello, Maxximus. It's amazing here, isn't it? I still can't believe we're really at Hogwarts."
Maxximus nodded, relieved to see she was just as fascinated by the school as he was. "Yeah, it's incredible. There's so much to learn."
The Charms classroom was filled with students chatting animatedly as they took their seats. Maxximus noticed the small, energetic professor standing on a stack of books behind his desk, preparing for the lesson.
"Welcome, welcome, everyone!" Professor Flitwick's voice was high-pitched and cheerful. "Today, we will go over what we will be learning this year in Charms."
The students eagerly took out their wands and notebooks, ready to jot down notes. Maxximus, remembering his struggle with reading, felt a pang of anxiety. He glanced at Hermione, who had already opened her textbook and was looking expectantly at the professor.
"We have an exciting year ahead of us," Professor Flitwick began. "Charms is one of the most important subjects you will study at Hogwarts. This year, we will be covering a variety of basic but essential spells. Let's start by going over the syllabus."
Professor Flitwick waved his wand, and a piece of parchment with the syllabus appeared on the board. He began to read through it, explaining each spell they would learn in turn.
"We will start with the Levitation Charm, Wingardium Leviosa, which will be the first spell you all will practice. Following that, we will learn the Wand-Lighting Charm, Lumos, and its counterpart, the Wand-Extinguishing Charm, Nox. We will also cover the Fire-Making Spell, Incendio, and the Softening Charm, Spongify. Additionally, we will study the Unlocking Charm, Alohomora, and its countercharm, the Locking Spell, Colloportus. We will practice the Mending Charm, Reparo, and the Box Blasting Charm, Cistem Aperio."
Maxximus listened intently, trying to commit everything to memory. He knew he would have to rely on his auditory memory, just like in the village.
"We will also have some fun by making a pineapple dance across a desk with the Dancing Charm. And finally, we will learn the Knockback Jinx, Flipendo, and the Ice Jinx, Frigidus Cubiculum."
Professor Flitwick beamed at the class. "By the end of this year, you will have a solid foundation in Charms that you can build upon in your future studies. I encourage you all to practice diligently and ask questions whenever you are unsure of something."
Maxximus felt a mix of excitement and apprehension. The spells sounded fascinating, but he knew he would need help with the reading and writing aspects of the class. He turned to Hermione, who was scribbling notes furiously.
"Wow, there's so much to learn," Maxximus said, trying to keep his tone light. "I hope I can keep up."
Hermione looked up from her notes, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Don't worry, Maxximus. If you ever need help, just ask. Maybe we can study together sometime." She smiled warmly, though Maxximus sensed a hint of uncertainty in her offer.
Professor Flitwick checked his watch and then clapped his hands. "It seems we have a bit more time than I anticipated, so let's begin with our first spell today! We will start with the Levitation Charm, Wingardium Leviosa. This is a very useful spell, and I'm sure you will all get the hang of it quickly."
The students murmured excitedly as Professor Flitwick waved his wand, and feathers appeared on each of their desks.
"Now, the key to this charm is the swish and flick motion," Professor Flitwick demonstrated the movement with his wand. "And the incantation is Wingardium Leviosa. Remember to pronounce it correctly: Wing-GAR-dium Levi-O-sa."
Maxximus watched intently, determined to get it right. Once given the signal to begin practicing, Maxximus gingerly brought his wand out from an inside pocket in his robes and before he could fully wrap his hand around it a Ravenclaw student sitting behind him, Anthony Goldstein, exclaimed:
"Whoa! Check the new guy's wand! That's not one of Ollivander's." This prompted a few murmurs and whispers from his peers. Maxximus really could not catch a break, all eyes were on him again. This time he would rise to the occasion. He practiced the wand movement a few times before attempting the spell. Hermione, beside him, was already trying the charm, her feather floating slightly before dropping back to the desk.
"Wingardium Leviosa," Maxximus said clearly, swishing and flicking his wand. His pronunciation was perfect, and to his astonishment, his feather immediately rose into the air, floating steadily above the desk. All the students staring at Maxximus saw their eyes widen before turning furtively back to their own feather, not wanting to be left behind.
"Excellent, Mister Sphinkus!" Professor Flitwick exclaimed, clearly impressed. "That's perfect pronunciation and wand movement on your first try! Five points to Sphinkus!"
Maxximus felt a surge of elation and excitement. He couldn't believe it—he had actually done magic! He grinned widely, his heart pounding with joy.
Hermione turned to him, her eyes wide with admiration. "That was amazing, Maxximus! You got it on your first try! I had to practice a bit last night to get it right today."
Maxximus grinned, feeling a surge of pride and excitement. Around the room, other students were having varied levels of success. Maxximus observed a thin boy with black hair and glasses trying the spell. His feather rose a few inches off the desk before falling back down. Next to him was a red-headed boy, who seemed to be having more trouble.
"Swish and flick, Ron," the black-haired boy encouraged, showing him the motion again.
"Yeah, yeah, swish and flick," the red-headed boy, Ron, grumbled, trying again with a determined look on his face.
Maxximus turned to Hermione and asked, "Are those your housemates?"
Hermione looked at him in surprise. "You don't know who Harry Potter is? He's the one with the glasses and the lightning bolt scar."
Maxximus looked back at the boy with glasses, realizing just how much he still had to learn about this new world. "Umm… Not really, Should I?"
Hermione seemed to find this information curious. "He's famous. Everyone knows about Harry. But then, you've had a different upbringing, haven't you?"
Maxximus nodded, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Yeah, I guess I have."
As the class came to an end, Professor Flitwick dismissed them with a cheerful, "Good work, everyone! Keep practicing, and we'll continue with more charms in our next lesson."
Maxximus packed up his things, feeling a mixture of relief and pride. Despite his challenges, he had managed to perform his first spell at Hogwarts. Before leaving, he quickly took out the folded-up timetable he received from Professor Quirrell and showed it to Hermione.
"Hey umm, Hermione, do you think you could help me figure out where to go next? I really can't make heads or tails of this thing."
Hermione sensitive to his unique plight, grabbed the parchment, smoothed it and placed it on the desk. She rummaged through her pockets and brought out a coloured ink set and started scribbling on his timetable.
"I don't know how you'll be able to complete homework without knowing how to write but at least now you'll be able to get to the right classes. I colour coded your time-table, red is Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall, yellow is Herbology with Professor Sprout, blue is Charms with Professor Flitwick, the class we just had, green is Potions with Professor Snape, purple is Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Quirrell, grey is History of Magic with Professor Binns, black is Astronomy with Professor Sinistra, when you see this one remember the class is always at midnight. Lastly, this one I underlined is Flying Lessons with Madam Hooch." She paused a moment, comparing with her own timetable.
"You know, we have exactly the same schedule, if you ever get lost ask one of the Gryffindor First Years where we're going. Looks like it was easier to just place you with us. We better run though Maxximus, Potions is in the dungeons, and we really must not be late."
Maxximus, extremely grateful, nods and follows Hermione towards his last class of his first day.
Maxximus entered the Potions classroom with the other Gryffindors, his mind still abuzz with the excitement of his first successful spell. As he took his seat in the dungeon-like classroom, he glanced around at his new classmates. The atmosphere here was much different than the bright and airy Charms class. Dark, shadowy corners and rows of pickled creatures in glass jars lined the walls, adding to the intimidating ambiance.
Suddenly, the door swung open, and Professor Snape glided into the room, his black robes billowing behind him. The room fell silent as he moved to the front, his cold eyes surveying the students with a look of disdain.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began in a soft, dangerous voice. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death—if you aren't as big a bunch of insufferable children as I usually have to teach."
Maxximus watched as Snape's gaze lingered on Harry Potter. Harry, who was furiously taking notes, seemed oblivious to the intense scrutiny until Snape spoke again.
"Mr. Potter," Snape drawled, causing Harry to look up abruptly. "Our new—celebrity. Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Harry blinked, clearly caught off guard. "I don't know, sir," he admitted.
Snape's lip curled into a sneer. "Fame clearly isn't everything."
Snape's eyes then shifted, landing directly on Maxximus. "And you," he snapped, "why have you not taken out your book?"
Maxximus felt his heart pound. He did not want to explain how it wouldn't do him any good. His cheeks reddened, contrasting severely with his eyes. He was stuck, unsure of how to respond to Snape's cold, piercing gaze.
"I... can't... access it right now," Maxximus stammered, trying to keep his voice steady.
Snape's eyes narrowed. "Detention, Mr. Sphinkus. And ten points from… Sphinkus… for your lack of preparation. Inadequacy will not be tolerated."
Snape turned to the blackboard and began to write out the instructions for their first potion, a simple Boil-Cure Potion. "Follow these instructions precisely," he ordered, "failure to do so will result in… unpleasant consequences."
Maxximus stared at the board, his heart sinking further. The unfamiliar words swam before his eyes, incomprehensible. He felt a gentle nudge from Hermione, who was his Potions partner for this class.
"Psst, Maxximus," Hermione whispered, leaning closer so that Snape wouldn't hear. "I'll read the instructions to you. Just follow along."
Maxximus nodded gratefully, trying to keep his anxiety in check as Hermione began to quietly dictate the steps.
"First, crush the snake fangs until they become a fine powder," she whispered. Maxximus quickly got to work, his hands moving with confidence and precision. His years of preparing ingredients in his village made this part easy.
"Good, now add four measures of the crushed fangs to your cauldron," Hermione continued, watching him closely to ensure he did it right.
Maxximus followed her instructions exactly, feeling a bit of his confidence return. He might not be able to read, but he could certainly handle the ingredients. As they progressed, Hermione read each step, and Maxximus executed them with skill. He noticed Snape prowling the room, stopping occasionally to commend a Slytherin or berate a Gryffindor.
"Pathetic, Longbottom," Snape sneered at Neville, who was struggling with his potion. "And you, Potter, did you even read the instructions?"
Maxximus glanced over to see Harry looking frustrated and red-faced. He felt a pang of empathy for his classmates but focused on his own potion. With Hermione's guidance, he managed to keep up.
"Finally, let it simmer for seven minutes," Hermione whispered, and Maxximus carefully adjusted the heat under his cauldron.
As the class continued, Maxximus found himself falling into a rhythm. Hermione's whispered instructions and his own proficiency with the ingredients carried him through. By the end of the lesson, his potion was a perfect shade of turquoise, just as it was supposed to be.
Snape walked around inspecting the potions. When he reached Maxximus and Hermione's cauldron, he gave a curt nod. "Adequate," he said, his tone begrudgingly neutral.
Maxximus felt a rush of relief and gratitude towards Hermione. As the class ended and they began to pack up, he turned to her with a small smile. "Thank you, Hermione. I couldn't have done it without you."
Hermione smiled back, though there was a hint of uncertainty in her eyes. "Don't mention it, Maxximus. If you need help, just ask."
As the students filed out of the Potions classroom, Maxximus walked alongside Hermione, his mind still reeling from the day's events. They headed towards the Great Hall for dinner, the corridors bustling with students. Maxximus seized the moment to ask Hermione a few questions that had been bothering him.
"Hermione," he began hesitantly, "I don't understand why I got punished. We didn't even use the book at all. And what exactly is detention?"
Hermione looked at him sympathetically. "Snape is... well, he's known for being unfair, especially to Gryffindors. And detention is a punishment where you must stay after school and do extra work or chores. It's not pleasant, but you'll get through it."
Maxximus frowned, the concept of punishment outside of class seeming strange and harsh to him. Before he could respond, a red-haired boy with a friendly, freckled face joined them. Maxximus recognized him from the Defense Against the Dark Arts class earlier.
"Detention on your first day, that's rough, mate," the boy said sympathetically. "Even my brothers couldn't pull that off. I'm Ron, by the way, Ron Weasley."
Maxximus managed a small smile at Ron's attempt to lighten the mood. "Nice to meet you, Ron. I'm Maxximus. And yeah, it's been...a strange day."
Ron nodded, giving Maxximus a reassuring pat on the back. "Don't worry, Snape's just a git. Everyone knows it. You'll get through it. And hey, if you need help with anything, just ask. Us Gryffindors have to stick together."
Hermione gave Ron a slightly disapproving look. "Maxximus isn't a Gryffindor, Ron. He's from the new Sphinkus House."
"Oh right, forgot about that, right scene that was," Ron said, looking slightly embarrassed. "Well, same goes for you, Maxximus. If you need help, just let us know."
At that moment, Harry, who had been walking quietly beside them, spoke up. "I'm Harry. It's good to meet you, Maxximus. Speaking of your House. What's it like?"
Maxximus felt a warm sense of belonging despite the earlier embarrassment. "Nice to meet you, Harry. Sphinkus House is...well, it's new to me too. I'm the only one in it right now, so I guess it's a bit lonely. But I've got a mini oasis in my common room, that's pretty sweet, can't deny that."
Harry gave him an understanding look. "That must be tough. It's hard not fitting in. I know what that's like." Harry paused a moment, registering what Maxximus just said. "Wait a minute! Did you just say there's an oasis in your common room?"
"Wicked, you'll have to sneak us in one day!" Ron interjected.
Maxximus laughed at the irony of the situation. "I'd love to! But I'm kinda locked out at the moment."
An ever-curious Hermione asks, "How do you mean locked out? Did you not receive a password?"
On the way to dinner, Maxximus recounted this morning's adventures earning fascinated looks when he got to his time at Ollivander's. An equally curious set of glances were then sent the way of the briefcase he was carrying around. Lastly, the group laughed at Maxximus' rendition of Side-Along Apparition. He really did not find that pleasant at all but enjoyed the humour his story provided.
As they entered the Great Hall, the smell of dinner wafted towards them, and Maxximus felt his stomach growl. The hall was filled with students chatting and laughing, the long tables laden with a feast. Maxximus followed Hermione, Ron, and Harry towards the Gryffindor table but then veered off to sit at the Sphinkus table, noticing how the other students seemed to accept his presence among them.
He found a seat at the Sphinkus table, and Maxximus marveled at the variety of food before him. As he filled his plate, he listened to the conversations around him, feeling a bit more at ease. Despite the challenges of the day, he was beginning to see that he wasn't alone. With new friends like Hermione, Ron, and Harry, he felt a renewed determination to face whatever came next.
He caught sight of Harry and Ron at the Gryffindor table, both glancing his way and giving him encouraging nods. Maxximus smiled, feeling a sense of camaraderie even from a distance. As he dug into his meal, he noticed the turbaned professor at the head table, and he couldn't help but think about the Praetor's warning about Professor Quirrell. So far, Quirrell had been nothing but helpful, and Maxximus couldn't reconcile the warning with his experience. He decided to keep an eye out and remain cautious, but for now, he was content to enjoy his supper and the company of his new friends.
The feast was as grand as ever, with platters of roasted meats, bowls of steaming vegetables, and an array of desserts that made Maxximus's mouth water. He was just about to reach for a treacle tart when a familiar figure approached.
Professor Quirrell, his turban slightly askew, stood before Maxximus, looking even more nervous than usual. He clutched a small, ornate box in his trembling hands.
"Ah, M-M-Mr. Sphinkus," Quirrell stammered, glancing around as if expecting someone to leap out at him. "A w-word, if you p-please."
Maxximus nodded, curiosity piqued, and stood up to follow the professor to a quieter corner of the hall. Quirrell handed him the box, his hands shaking.
"I... I have s-something for you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "It will help with your predicament."
Maxximus accepted the box, feeling its weight. It was intricately decorated with ancient runes and symbols.
Quirrell leaned in closer, his voice even lower, "Also, a-after discussing with the deputy headmistress, we s-suggest that you work with Miss Granger. She has been informed and will help you l-learn how to read. This arrangement will grant her extra credit in her classes."
Before Maxximus could ask any questions, Quirrell turned and hurried away, his robes flapping behind him. Maxximus stared after him for a moment before returning to his seat, the box now resting on the table before him.
After the feast, Maxximus made his way back to his dormitory. His shrunken trunk and package from the professor in tow. The corridors of Hogwarts were quieter now, the flickering torches casting long shadows on the stone walls. He reached the familiar thick wooden door of his dorm, which was solid and imposing. At its center was the small rectangular alcove covered by a glass pane.
Inside the alcove, Maxximus could see the four phials of varying shapes, each filled with different amounts of colored fluid, red, blue, yellow and green. Exactly how he remembered it from earlier today. The puzzle had not changed, he needed to mix the liquids together until they all produced the same colour.
Maxximus frowned, his mind racing as he considered his options. How was he supposed to access the flasks? He could clearly see them, but the glass pane prevented him from reaching in. He stood there for several minutes, contemplating the problem from different angles. He traced the edges of the glass with his finger, looking for any hidden latch or seam, but found none.
Frustration began to mount. He paced back and forth in front of the door, muttering to himself. "There's got to be a way... How do they expect us to solve this if we can't even touch the flasks?"
Desperation made him consider breaking the glass. He raised his fist, ready to smash through the pane, but paused just in time. He felt foolish at the thought. "Breaking it would be too easy," he murmured. "There must be another way."
Feeling defeated, Maxximus slumped down on the floor, leaning against the door. "What happens if I can't get in?" he wondered aloud, the thought of spending the night in the corridor making him anxious.
He pulled out his wand, feeling the smooth, slightly spiralled ebony wood in his hands. Without much thought, he began to use the Wingardium Leviosa spell on random objects around him. First the package from Quirrell, then his cloak that he had thrown onto the ground in frustration. As he watched them hover, he felt a strange mix of resignation and comfort. This was the first piece of magic he's ever really learned.
As the objects floated, Maxximus's mind began to wander. He remembered Defense Against the Dark Arts, where he had been gently teased for forgetting to use magic in front of everyone. His thoughts shifted to Charms class with Professor Flitwick. He remembered the elation he felt when he finally got the Wingardium Leviosa spell right. The feather had floated gracefully, and Flitwick had praised his effort.
Suddenly, it all clicked. He almost laughed at himself for not thinking of it sooner. He jumped to his feet, his earlier frustration giving way to renewed determination.
Maxximus pointed his wand at the flasks inside the alcove. "Wingardium Leviosa," he said clearly, focusing his intent.
The fluids began to levitate, shimmering in the torchlight as they moved gracefully through the air. Maxximus carefully directed them, dividing the contents among the flasks with precision. He watched as the colors swirled and mixed, gradually changing until each flask held an equal amount of bright white liquid.
With a satisfied nod, Maxximus completed the puzzle. The alcove clicked open, and the wooden door swung inward, granting him access to his dormitory. He stepped inside, feeling a sense of accomplishment and relief.
Just as he was about to close the door, a sudden chill filled the room. Maxximus turned around to see the ghostly figure of Praetor Virinius Sphinkus materializing before him, through the wall of the dormitory. His eyes glowed with a spectral light, fixed intently on Maxximus.
"Praetor?" Maxximus whispered, feeling both awe and fear.
The ghost nodded, his expression stern and slightly frustrated. "Maxximus, too long did you tarry on a puzzle so simple," he began, his voice echoing with authority. "A Sphinkus must act with swiftness and decisiveness. Each victory summons forth new trials. Ever vigilant must you be."
Before Maxximus could respond, the Praetor's stern expression wavered, and his eyes twinkled mischievously, an unnatural grin on his face. "Or perchance," he said, his voice suddenly higher and more playful, "fortune's favor did you stumble upon? Wingardium Leviosa, a spell for children!" The ghost's tone was now teasing and mocking, much like Peeves the Poltergeist.
Maxximus blinked in surprise. "P-Praetor?"
The ghost's demeanor shifted again, and he sighed, shaking his head as if to clear it. "Forgive me, Maxximus. The mischief of Peeves lingers yet within. Your presence rekindles the spirit of a general long lost."
Maxximus stared, a mixture of confusion and intrigue on his face. "What do you mean?"
The Praetor's stern expression returned. "Before you graced these halls, I was known as Peeves. Your arrival awakened my true essence, though vestiges of the trickster remain. A battle it is, waged eternally."
Maxximus nodded slowly. "Oh yeah, the weird spirit from yesterday." He hesitated a moment before showing the package to the Praetor, "Umm Praetor, I received a gift today."
"What is it, Maxximus?" the Praetor asked, his voice full of caution.
"It's a package from Professor Quirrell," Maxximus explained. "He said it would help with my predicament."
The Praetor's expression grew stern. "Quirrell? The turbaned professor? We must be cautious. I counsel we dispose of it with haste."
"But if it might help with my learning, shouldn't we at least see what it is? How about I open it from a distance with the new spell?" Maxximus pleaded, unwilling to discard the gift and equally eager to have a reason to do magic again.
"Acceptable." Said the ghost rigidly.
Maxximus nodded, drawing his wand once more and taking his place at a reasonable distance from the box. "Wingardium Leviosa."
By carefully levitating parts of the packaging, he was able to unwrap the contents. He then focused on the contents and levitating those out of the box and onto the floor of the common room.
"It's just a feather, some black fluid and some parchment" Maxximus said, puzzled.
The Praetor stepped closer, examining the items. "It is a quill, a writing instrument used in this land. The ink and parchment are for writing messages or recording information."
Maxximus looked confused. "I don't know how to write. What use is this to me?"
As he spoke, the quill suddenly cocked itself, dipping into the ink and beginning to write on the parchment. Maxximus watched in amazement as the quill moved on its own.
"Look at that," Maxximus exclaimed. "It's writing!"
The Praetor observed the quill's movements. "It transcribes your speech onto parchment. Speak to it, and it shall record your words."
Maxximus grinned. "So, it will help me write essays and notes?"
The Praetor nodded. "Indeed. But remain wary of Quirrell's intentions. Use this tool wisely and with vigilance."
Maxximus nodded, feeling a sense of relief and excitement. "I will, Praetor. Thank you."
The ghostly figure of the Praetor made is way to and then through the wall. "Goodnight, Maxximus. I shall wander the castle, ensuring all remains well. Be vigilant."
With those final words, the Praetor disappeared, leaving Maxximus alone in the quiet room. Maxximus took a deep breath and looked around, feeling a sense of accomplishment and readiness.
He carefully collected his shrunken trunk and the gift from Quirrell, then headed up to his bedroom. The room felt more like home now, especially with the day's triumphs and the promise of the quill's aid.
Once in his bedroom, Maxximus set the quill and ink on his desk, then placed his trunk on the floor. He pulled out his wand and tapped the trunk, watching as the trunk returned to its full size.
Maxximus opened the trunk and began to unpack his belongings, taking every opportunity to cast Wingardium Leviosa. He levitated his clothes into the wardrobe, books onto the shelves, and personal items onto his desk and bedside table. The room slowly transformed, from a vacant shell to a more lived in dormitory.
The only belongings he had brought from home were the Sphinkus Chronicle, currently on his end table, his shenti, and his sandals. He tucked his old clothes into a recess of his wardrobe, he likely would not be wearing those any time soon, he reflected somberly.
When he was finally done, Maxximus stood back and surveyed his room. It looked cozy and organized. He was officially settled into Hogwarts, the placement of the last item from the trunk, his scale, onto the middle shelf of his bookcase, sealed it. This was Maxximus' new home. He shut the trunk and placed it under his bed.
Coming up from the floor, he noticed something he did not unpack, sitting on his end table next to his family's book. A letter. Although he could not read it, the calligraphy was familiar. It was from Professor Snape. This must be the information pertaining to his detention, he would ask Hermione about it tomorrow morning. For now, it was time for bed.
Lying in bed, Maxximus stared at the ceiling, a mixture of excitement and apprehension swirling within him. He had made it through his first day, had cast his first spell, and had received a gift that promised to be incredibly useful. He also had new friends in Hermione, Ron, and Harry, who seemed willing to help him navigate this strange new world.