Chaos

"Now, don't forget that subtle wrist movement we've been practicing!" Professor Flitwick stood atop his usual pile of books and squeaked, "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. Pronouncing the incantation correctly is also extremely important. Never forget the wizard Baruffio, who said the f as an s and found himself lying on the floor with a buffalo standing on his chest."

This was most likely a flawed magical configuration that had, by chance, been influenced by that wizard's spiritual dimension, producing an enormously significant deviation—

Tierra judged that it was definitely not as simple as mispronouncing a single sound.

Everyone's spiritual dimension was special and unique. Therefore, even when different wizards cast the same spell with exactly the same pronunciation, vastly different results could occur.

Just like Demolition Expert Seamus Finnigan: any random spell or cauldron of potion could end up producing the effect of an Exploding Charm in his hands.

After explaining the key points, Flitwick waved his wand, signaling that the young wizards present could practice on their own.

But clearly, although Flitwick made the spell look quite easy in his demonstration, when it came time for the young wizards to perform it themselves, hardly anyone could manage it.

Naturally, Hermione was the first to succeed. She had already learned the spell on her own just a few weeks after the first flying lesson.

"Splendid, Miss Granger," Flitwick praised. "Five points to Gryffindor!"

That eased Hermione's tightly drawn expression, which had lasted all morning, a little.

Then came Tierra and Harry. Swish and flick—the feathers on their desks floated gently into the air.

But the other young wizards were not so fortunate.

Seamus Finnigan had once again, again and again, set his prop on fire.

With a puff, the feather in front of Seamus exploded into a cloud of black smoke.

His desk mate Neville reacted swiftly, slamming a thick spellbook down in front of Seamus's desk.

He was so practiced at it that it was almost heartbreaking.

At another table, Ron's luck did not seem any better.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, windmilling his long arms as he did so.

But the feather on his desk remained completely unmoved.

"You're saying it wrong," Hermione said bluntly. Having just received praise from Professor Flitwick, she seemed to be in a much better mood. "It's Win-gar-dium Levi-o-sa. You have to make the 'gar' sound long and clear."

"Mm... hmph... got it," Ron muttered softly.

By the time class was nearly over, Ron was in an utterly foul mood.

"No wonder everyone can't stand her," Tierra heard Ron say to Harry as they struggled through the crowded corridor. "Honestly, she's practically a nightmare."

Someone bumped hard into Tierra, then hurried past them.

It was Hermione. When she had passed by him just now, Tierra had noticed that she was crying.

"I think she heard what you said," Tierra said flatly.

"So what?" Ron said, though a trace of unease showed on his face. "She must have noticed already. She doesn't have a single friend. Look, even you haven't been hanging around with her lately!"

Tierra sighed softly, not knowing what he could say to express his helplessness at being dragged into a conflict between elementary school children.

Hermione did not show up for the next class, and she was nowhere to be seen for the entire afternoon.

At dinnertime, Tierra, Harry, and Ron went downstairs toward the Great Hall. On their way to the Halloween feast, they overheard Pettier telling her friend Lavender that Hermione was crying miserably in the girls' bathroom and would not let anyone comfort her.

Ron looked even more uncomfortable after hearing that. He even began considering whether he should go find Hermione and apologize.

However, moments later, when they entered the Great Hall and saw the dazzling Halloween decorations, Ron and Harry immediately forgot all about Hermione.

A thousand bats fluttered along the walls and ceiling, while another thousand swooped overhead like low black clouds, making the candle flames inside the pumpkins flicker. Delicious food suddenly appeared on golden plates, just as it had at the start-of-term feast.

After the feast began, Ron held a chicken leg in one hand and a piece of beef speared on a fork in the other.

Harry ate a piece of incredibly soft steamed potato with a spoon.

Tierra quickly finished his main course—pan-fried cod, roast lamb chops, and a little bacon.

Tierra was now spooning up the caramel fruit pudding placed before him.

But Tierra seemed somewhat restless, glancing toward the doors of the Great Hall from time to time.

"Stop looking, Tierra," Ron said through a mouthful of meat. "I'm sure Hermione will come once she cries herself hungry."

"Mm... no—well, all right, I am a little worried about Hermione," Tierra said.

Then Tierra's eyes lit up, because he saw Professor Quirrell, dressed in loose robes with a rag wrapped around his head, stumble into the hall.

"Troll!" he screamed the moment he entered the Great Hall.

"Troll! In the dungeon..." Professor Quirrell collapsed in front of Dumbledore's dais with a face full of terror and fainted.

His posture was elegant, like an actress dying onstage, and he had even deliberately made sure to land face-first.

"Ah—ah—ah—" No one knew who started screaming first, but the Great Hall instantly descended into chaos. Some young wizards threw away the food in their hands...

Yes, Ron was the one who flung away the steak and chicken leg he was holding, knocking over Tierra's caramel pudding, then began screaming along with the other young wizards.

Professor Dumbledore had to make several ear-splitting firework explosions burst from the tip of his wand before everyone quieted down.

"Prefects," Dumbledore said in a low voice, "take the students of your Houses back to their dormitories immediately! All teachers, come with me!"

Percy was naturally well practiced at this.

"Follow me! Don't get separated, first-years! As long as you follow my instructions, there's no need to fear any troll! All right, stay close behind me. Make way, first-years coming through! Excuse me! I'm a prefect! Stop pushing me!"

"How could a troll get in?" Harry turned to ask Tierra as they climbed the stairs, only to discover that Ron and the other first-year students were the only ones beside him.

"Where's Tierra?" Harry nearly cried out. He raised his head, stood on tiptoe, and looked all around.

Tierra was nowhere to be seen in the chaotic crowd.

"Where's Tierra? Did you see Tierra?" Harry suddenly grabbed Ron's arm. "Tierra is gone!"