Learn, Understand, Master

Ever since accidentally overhearing Quirrell's conversation with pendant-version Voldemort, Wade had stopped poking around deserted, out-of-the-way corners. Whenever he had no classes, he spent most of his time in the Umbrella Room. Fortunately, Michael's enthusiasm for Quidditch had finally cooled—probably because Ravenclaw had lost to Hufflepuff, and two students had been injured, making Quidditch seem less fun to him.

During Defense Against the Dark Arts, Wade paid special attention to Quirrell. In front of the students, Professor Quirrell was still the same timid, pitiful Quirrell. When a mischievous student asked about his fall from the stands, he merely said awkwardly and stammeringly, "I—I didn't notice—I think—I think—someone pushed me—"

The students all looked skeptical—what student would dare play a prank on a professor? They all thought Quirrell had simply gotten too excited and lost his footing, but had been too embarrassed to admit it.

Naturally, no one suspected Wade. In everyone's eyes, he had always been the model student—respectful toward professors, diligent in his studies, never causing trouble, a typical Ravenclaw.

After class, Padma quickly packed her schoolbag and ran over eagerly to ask, "Going to the Umbrella Room to do homework?"

Quirrell was not much of a teacher, but his ability to assign homework was nearly on par with Professor Snape's. Every time, they had to write essays over a foot long. Even Ravenclaw students found it a headache.

But after studying in the Umbrella Room for a while, Padma seemed to have cracked the code to essay writing and had even begun to enjoy it. Perhaps after quickly finishing her homework, seeing her classmates wail about how much work they had, how hard it was, and scratch their heads in despair brought her immense joy through a swelling sense of superiority.

More than once, Wade had seen her chatting with people in the Great Hall—

"How much homework do you have left?"

"Hm? You still have that much unfinished? I only took forty minutes to finish my essay yesterday. It felt pretty easy? How come you haven't even written the beginning? Were you not paying attention in class?"

After a few times, no one wanted to talk to her anymore, so Padma was always with her sister. But judging from Parvati's expression, the reason she tolerated Padma's bragging was so she could borrow her homework for "reference."

Wade had wanted to advise her not to show off so much, but Michael stared fixedly at Padma's smiling face at the other end of the long table and said, "Don't you think she's adorable like that? Like her whole face says, 'Aren't I amazing?' and 'Come praise me'—"

He smiled without realizing it. "Both silly and smart—just like a little kid."

...All right, then.

Wade swallowed the words he had been about to say.

He wondered whether he was too old at heart, too practical in the way he thought about things, which was why he could not appreciate this sort of silly charm in a young girl.

Padma was eagerly looking forward to going to the Umbrella Room, but behind her, Michael was waggling his eyebrows at Wade in silent suggestion.

Wade glanced over there, then turned his gaze back and said, "You two go on ahead. I have something to ask Professor Flitwick."

Michael was overjoyed. He gave him a thumbs-up, then bent it twice in thanks.

Padma was a little disappointed. "—All right."

The two left together, while Wade packed his things and headed up to the seventh floor.

He was not deliberately creating an opportunity for Michael. He truly had something to ask Professor Flitwick.

Professor Flitwick's office was on the seventh floor. Students generally did not climb up this high, so it was very quiet. In the long corridor, only the portraits occasionally muttered in their sleep.

Come to think of it, Wade had never seen another portrait as lively as Griffiths. Most portraits in the castle merely stretched now and then or turned their heads. Some had never been seen leaving their own frames.

Like Miss Claudia.

Wade arrived before an oak door carved with an eagle. When it saw Wade, it flapped its wings and said as though talking to itself, "Wade Grey has come to visit."

A moment later, it said again, "Entry permitted."

The oak door slid open, and Wade walked inside.

Professor Flitwick's office had much the same style as Ravenclaw Tower—the room had an arched structure, with thirteen windows around it, from which Ravenclaw Tower and the Owl Tower could be seen. Sunlight passed through stained glass, casting brilliant patches of color across the floor.

Most of the furniture in the room was miniature, perfectly suited to Professor Flitwick's height. Only the bookshelves were exceptionally grand, with hundreds upon hundreds of books piled from floor to ceiling. Several thick stacks of parchment also lay on the ground. Most of them were notes Professor Flitwick had organized himself, which he sometimes lent to students he liked. Wade currently had two such volumes in his schoolbag.

"Oh, Wade."

Professor Flitwick's voice came from above. Wade looked up to see the professor standing on a tall, self-moving ladder. Section by section, the ladder contracted until it became a low step, and Professor Flitwick jumped straight down.

He said happily, "I am very pleased with your essay on the 'Softening Charm.' My child, do you have a new question today?"

"Yes." Wade took out the notes he had borrowed earlier and said, "I've finished learning all of Standard Book of Spells, Grade 3, and I would like you to test my proficiency."

"No problem. Hmm... let's start with a Cheering Charm!" Professor Flitwick said.

Over the next while, Wade demonstrated more than a dozen spells that third-years would learn, all successfully on the first try. Professor Flitwick was so excited he nearly fainted!

"Oh, Wade! Oh, Wade! You are absolutely a genius!" he said again and again. "Only three months! I watched you go from knowing nothing to reaching this level today! Your progress is far too fast! At this rate, you'll reach O.W.L. level in less than a year! You will surely become someone extraordinary in the future!"

Wade smiled and said, "Professor, I'd like to continue borrowing the Grade 4 textbook and notes."

"Of course you can. I had them prepared long ago! I knew you would finish before the Christmas holiday." Professor Flitwick waved his Wand, and several books flew over from the table. They included the copy of Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4 that Professor Flitwick himself had once used, as well as materials he had consulted for teaching, lesson plans he had prepared, and excellent essays left behind by previous students.

Professor Flitwick had taught at Hogwarts for decades and had long reached the point where he only needed to bring a Wand to class. Yet he had never thrown away these things he had written in his early years. Instead, he carefully organized and preserved them, continuing to repair them bit by bit even now.

Wade's eyes allowed him to quickly learn a spell. But with the same Fire Charm, one person could only use it to light a cigarette, another could light a bonfire, while someone else could use it to burn down a city.

That was a difference in power.

And in terms of control, one person's Fire Charm might inexplicably blow up in their face and leave them Charred Black, while another could bring even the ignited flames under control, making them change shape, burn, or go out at will.

What caused this difference was not merely a gap in Magic Power, but a wizard's understanding of a spell's essence.

Wade's eyes allowed him to "learn." Textbooks and books in the library allowed him to "understand." But the materials here in Professor Flitwick's office had allowed him to touch the line of "mastery."