Magic Nodes

"Did one of the Rosiers say something to you?" Lyria imagined. "I knew she was up to no good! Don't you—"

"No. I haven't seen her since I got to school. I just guessed."

Yulian cut her off. "Whether you believe me or not, Lyria, promise me you'll stay away from Professor Quirrell. Don't go looking for him alone, and don't tell him anything about your family, your bloodline, or the Northlands."

Lyria looked at Yulian's serious expression and fell silent for a while. She could tell his concern was genuine.

"All right," she finally conceded. "I'll be careful. But I still think that even if Professor Quirrell is a little strange, he can't be...he can't be a bad person, can he? Otherwise, why would Dumbledore make him a professor?"

Dumbledore? Hmph, that old geezer was as sly as they came.

Knowing he couldn't convince her completely in one go, Yulian could only sigh. "In any case, better safe than sorry."

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

The Ravenclaw first-years were taking Charms with the Slytherin first-years, unlike in the original story. Their teacher was Ravenclaw's Head of House, Professor Flitwick.

Professor Flitwick was a short, elderly wizard with a shock of untidy white hair. He had to stand on a pile of thick books so all the students could see him.

He began the lesson in a cheerful, enthusiastic voice. "Good morning, children! Today, we'll be learning a very basic, but extremely important spell—the Levitation Charm!"

"Remember," Professor Flitwick emphasized, "keep your wrist flexible, like this—swish and flick! The pronunciation is crucial, too. The stress goes on the 'o' in 'Leviosa,' not the 'sa'!"

"Like this." He waved his wand and murmured, "Wingardium Leviosa!" A white feather on the lectern immediately floated into the air, gracefully turning in a circle.

"All right, your turn."

The classroom was immediately filled with a jumble of "Wing-ardium Levio-sa" and "Wingardium Le-vi-o-sa."

When Yulian had first walked into the classroom, he'd spotted Elizabeth Rosier sitting in the front row. Today she wore a dark blue robe that made her skin look even fairer, and the serpent brooch on her chest gleamed. She'd been looking down at Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1, reading intently as if nothing around her had anything to do with her.

Now, in the row behind Rosier, on the Slytherin side, Malfoy was loudly reciting the spell in an arrogant tone. His feather gave a faint twitch, then fell back onto the desk. He glanced toward the Ravenclaws, a disdainful smile tugging at his lips.

Yulian ignored him. He closed his eyes and recalled the key points from Why Feathers Always Want to Hit Your Face? in the Magic Resonance Library.

He steadied his breathing, felt the magic flowing through him, then gave his wrist a graceful swish and flick and clearly said, "Wingardium Leviosa!"

His feather rose smoothly into the air and hovered there, perfectly steady. It even moved slowly in response to his thoughts.

In fact, he was deliberately holding back. Otherwise, he could have made the feather dance. The can-can, for instance. Oh, no can-can—it couldn't do the splits.

"Excellent work, Mr. Black!" Professor Flitwick exclaimed in surprise. He jumped down from his pile of books and hurried over to Yulian's desk.

That was probably even better than the Gryffindor Hermione's. That was a Ravenclaw student for you. "Perfect pronunciation, perfect movement! Five points to Ravenclaw!" Professor Flitwick's voice rang out.

As soon as he finished speaking, a cool, precise voice rang out from the front of the classroom. "Wingardium Leviosa."

Flitwick turned to look. It was Rosier. Her feather had risen just as steadily, her movements clean and precise, without a hint of anything unnecessary.

"Wonderful, Miss Rosier!" Professor Flitwick praised her again. "Five points to Slytherin! It seems we have two exceptionally talented students today!"

All the students applauded, except Malfoy. His face was stiff. He glared discreetly at Rosier and Yulian, as if blaming them for stealing his spotlight.

The lesson continued. Most of the students were still struggling with their feathers. Some only trembled slightly, while others flew out of control straight up to the ceiling, drawing a burst of laughter.

When the bell rang, Professor Flitwick clapped his hands to quiet everyone down.

"For today's homework, write an essay about the Levitation Charm. There's no length requirement. Reviewing the spell will help us improve our use of it, so please do your best."

After a pause, Flitwick added, "Of course, you'll also need to keep practicing the Levitation Charm until you can make a feather hover steadily for at least ten seconds. Also..." He looked at Yulian and Rosier. "Mr. Black, Miss Rosier, please stay behind. I'd like to speak with you both privately."

The students filed out of the classroom. Before leaving, Malfoy shot Yulian a vicious glare. Yulian thought his cousin wasn't quite right in the head and decided it was best to keep his distance.

Soon, only Yulian, Rosier, and Professor Flitwick remained in the classroom.

"You two did exceptionally well," Professor Flitwick said with a beaming smile. "Far better than most students your age. I'm curious—had you been exposed to magic before coming to school?"

"Not much, Professor." Yulian and Rosier gave almost identical answers at nearly the same time.

Professor Flitwick nodded, a look of understanding flashing in his eyes. "Pure talent, then. How enviable. Still, talent needs proper guidance. I noticed that both of you had very precise control over your magic when casting. That's rare. Especially you, Mr. Black—your control seems...as though it's been honed through thousands of repetitions."

Yulian's heart tightened, but he showed nothing on his face.

"Very well." Professor Flitwick took two thin booklets from his pocket. "These are some notes I put together when I was young, about fine control of magic. They may be of some help to you. Take them. I hope you'll put them to good use."

The two of them took the notes and thanked him.

When they left the classroom, the corridor was nearly empty. They skimmed through the professor's notes and eventually decided that each would copy one booklet first, then exchange them.

As they were about to part ways, Yulian hesitated, then asked, "Rosier, about your family and Lyria's tribe...could you tell me a little?"

Rosier stopped in her tracks. She was silent for a while before answering in a low voice. "I don't know much myself. All I know is that many years ago, Grindelwald commissioned my family to search all over Europe for several ancient stone tablets. They were said to contain powerful nature magic. I don't know what they were for, though. People of my grandmother's generation...did do some shameful things over them."

She lifted her head and met Yulian's eyes, her gaze sincere. "But I can promise you that I had nothing to do with those things. I hate that part of our history. That's why I left my family and came to Hogwarts. I don't want to become like them."

Then Rosier thought for a moment and added, "But it's been many years. Ever since Grindelwald's defeat, I haven't heard of my family searching for those tablets again. This time, my family only wanted to take me to Durmstrang. After Headmaster Dumbledore negotiated with them, they agreed to let me stay."

Yulian looked at her and nodded. "Of course I believe you. It's just that the tablets may not be as simple as you think. We can talk about it another time. For now, studying is the most important thing, isn't it?"

They exchanged smiles, and it seemed as though the distance between them had vanished in that moment.

"By the way," Rosier suddenly remembered, "I once saw an old book in a secondhand bookshop in Diagon Alley. It mentioned the 'Eternal Night Forest,' 'Earth Vein Energy,' and something called a 'Guardian Stone Tablet.' If you're interested, it might be helpful. I think it was called Magic Nodes."

"All right, thank you, Miss Rosier."

"Just call me Eliza." She turned and headed toward the Slytherin dungeon.

Suddenly, she rose slightly onto her toes and took a small, light, springy hop forward, then another. The hem of her robe swayed cheerfully with each step.