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Harry Potter: I Cast

Why do you need to cast in Latin? Why are the three unforgivable curses so unforgivable? I can cast something worse than any curse for I cast TESTICULAR TORSION!! Not enough I CAST MANUAL BREATHING! ITCHY BONES! And I don't care how big the room is I CAST FIREBALL!!! I own nothing from Harry Potter all rights go to J.K. Rowling, I only own my OCs. For 10 advanced chapters go to Patreon.com/Joanjudo Stories

Joanjudo · Book&Literature
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29 Chs

First Class

A/N: The more ps you use the more extra chapters I'll upload: Top 100: +1 bonus chapter, Top 50: +2 bonus chapters, Top 20: +3 bonus chapters, Top 10: +4 bonus chapters, Top 5: +4 bonus chapters, Top 3: +5 bonus chapters, Top 2: +6 bonus chapters, Top 1: +8 bonus chapters.

I caught up with Bell and her two Gryffindor friends, Kenneth Towler and Lucy Winterbourne, in the corridor. Kenneth was tall for our age, with sandy brown hair that kept falling into his eyes, while Lucy was shorter than Bell, with dark skin and braided hair that had red ribbons woven through it.

I wanted to ask Bell if anyone had given her trouble, but stopped myself. After what happened with Louise, I'd learned my lesson about being overprotective. Bell was a witch now, fully capable of handling herself, and I'd help if she asked - but she wasn't some damsel in distress needing constant surveillance.

After our brief chat about classes, I headed back to Ravenclaw Tower, arriving just as another student was solving the eagle knocker's riddle. Perfect timing - I really didn't fancy standing there puzzling over some stupid riddle this early in the morning. The riddle had something to do with a phoenix and rebirth, but I was too preoccupied with my own thoughts to pay much attention.

Once in my room, I changed into my proper wizard's robes, though I couldn't help but experiment a bit first. The Sorting Hat's words kept echoing in my mind.

"You truly are a Scribe."

Whatever that meant, it seemed connected to my peculiar way of doing magic. The curiosity was eating at me like a particularly persistent Niffler after something shiny.

I raised my wand, concentrating on the memory of the Louise incident - the floating debris, the hovering furniture, the suspended glass shards. The magic flooded through me, familiar, it felt nice like being under a nice stream of hot water. It felt different from when I used my wand for regular spells, more like a direct connection between my thoughts and the world around me.

"I Cast Gravity Upheaval," I declared, and immediately everything in my room began to float. My bed lifted off the floor, books drifted from their shelves, and even my trunk wobbled upward. My guitar case spun lazily in midair, and I had to suppress a laugh at how absurd it all looked.

I held my breath, carefully directing the flow of magic through my wand to maintain control. With deliberate movements, I guided everything back to its proper place, making sure my guitar landed especially gently.

"Getting better," I muttered, feeling rather pleased with myself. The residual magic still tingled in the air around me, like the aftermath of a static shock.

"Still should I show my I Cast magic in class? Meh who cares if it comes to it, I'll show it I'll just say that I can cast chantless. Of course I don't think that there is a spell that makes you have itchy bones but..."

The thought of casting it on someone made me smile for some reason, a reason I attributed to my passion for magic yep it wasn't cause I wanted to see stoic people do stupid shit definitely not.

As I made my way down from Ravenclaw Tower to the fifth floor, I spotted Drake with two other Slytherins trailing behind him like lackeys. They were the sort who probably practiced their sneers in the mirror every morning and had their house-elves iron their robes twice just to make sure they had the perfect amount of starch.

"Hey Drake!" I called out cheerfully, watching as his companions' faces twisted into nearly identical expressions of disgust. It was actually quite impressive how synchronized they were - they must have practiced that too.

Drake turned, a genuine smile breaking through his carefully maintained Slytherin composure. His companions - Dominic Travers and Marcus Flint, I recalled from the sorting - looked like they'd just swallowed something particularly unpleasant. Probably their pride, ha good one mental me.

Before Drake could respond, Dominic stepped forward, his black eyes narrowing. "Who do you think you're talking to? This is Drake Macmillan, heir to the Macmillan family."

He pronounced each word as if explaining something very simple to someone very stupid. The effect was somewhat ruined by the fact that he had his wand stuck in his sleeve at an odd angle, making him look like he was trying to scratch his elbow without anyone noticing.

"Yes, I know," I replied, walking past him to Drake. "So, how's the private room situation working out? Awesome having our own space, isn't it? I can't imagine sharing with two or three others. I need my alone time, especially for sleep."

Drake's smile widened slightly. "Yeah, it's one of the few calming things." His eyes darted briefly to his companions, and I could have sworn I saw a flicker of amusement there.

"Hey, you filthy half-blood-" Marcus began, but I was already drawing my wand.

"I Cast Zip It," I said, perhaps a bit too gleefully. A silver zipper materialized across his mouth, effectively ending whatever charming sentiment he'd been about to share.

Now you may be wondering why I had the balls to do this with people who belonged to the subsidiaries of the main families of the sacred twenty eight especially when I had acted so scared when I learned that Drake was a Macmillan.

Well Drake explained to me that if you weren't from the main branch of the family you were basically like muggleborns to the sacred twenty eight meaning you didn't matter to them, though that did make me wonder why they felt so high and mighty, compared to the rest of us or why they seemed to revere the main families so much, oh well different education.

Still the look of shock on his face was priceless - his eyes crossed trying to look at his own mouth. Both boys reached for their wands, but Drake quickly ordered them to stand down. They complied, though their expressions suggested they'd rather do anything but.

"Which class do you have first?" I asked Drake, ignoring the muffled sounds coming from Marcus as he struggled with his new accessory. 

"History of Magic."

"Uff," I winced sympathetically. "Heard some rough things about that teacher. Though the subject itself is super interesting - hope you manage to stay awake. See you during break? I'll bring Bell too since I have double class with Gryffindors."

Drake nodded, then glanced at Marcus, who was now red-faced from trying to force the zipper open while Dominic attempted various opening charms he'd probably learned from his family library. None of them seemed to be working, which wasn't surprising since I'd made up the spell on the spot. I had learnt in the summer as long as I could recall pain I could cast weird spells like this.

"Er, Felix? Could you fix that?"

I skipped over to Marcus, unable to resist one last jab. "Can't even work a simple zipper? You're pretty dumb aren't you?"

I'd expected anger, but the shame in his eyes was somehow more satisfying. I reached out and unzipped his mouth, leaving the zipper hanging at the corner like an odd piece of metallic jewelry.

"The zipper too?" Drake asked hopefully.

"I don't know how to do that but don't worry it will go away in a while." I said vaguely, enjoying Marcus's growing panic. His hand kept creeping up to touch the zipper as if hoping it would disappear through sheer force of will.

"A while?" Marcus demanded, his voice slightly higher than usual.

"Yes a while."

"Well how long is a while?"

"A while is a while."

"Yes but how long?"

"A while, seriously don't you understand the core concept of a while, I can't give you an exact time it is going to be a while."

Leaving them with those final words, I headed to Charms class, arriving with plenty of time to spare. Professor Flitwick was already there, practically bouncing with enthusiasm as he arranged various objects on his desk.

There were feathers, teacups, and what looked suspiciously like a rubber duck, though I couldn't imagine what spell would require that.

I chose a seat near the front, and a moment later, a girl with long, curly blonde hair similar to mine but with striking grey eyes sat beside me.

"Hello, I'm Penelope Clearwater," she said with a warm smile. "You're Felix, right?"

"Right you are," I confirmed. "Felix Serendipity, at your service." I gave a mock bow from my seated position, which earned me a small laugh.

The classroom gradually filled with my fellow Ravenclaws and the Gryffindors, their excited chatter creating a buzz of anticipation. This was it - my first proper magic lesson. I couldn't wait to see what Professor Flitwick had planned, though part of me wondered how he'd react if I started casting spells my way.

A few more people started to enter the class, and then I saw two more people sit at my left, Bell, Kenneth and Lucy. I signed, hello to her again which she quickly signed back.

Professor Flitwick began taking attendance, I found myself already plotting how to adapt whatever spell he taught us into my own unique casting style. After all, what was the point of having such interesting magic if you couldn't experiment with it? Though perhaps I should wait until after class to try anything too creative - or maybe not.

The thought made me smile. This was going to be an interesting year indeed, especially if Marcus's zipper decided to stick around for a while. A long while.