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CHAPTER 31
In the whimsically adorned Charms classroom, Professor Flitwick, a tiny wizard perched on a stack of books, introduced the first-years to the delicate art of spell casting. Elmi, armed with his deep knowledge of magical theory, found himself in his element.
As Professor Flitwick demonstrated the Levitation Charm, Wingardium Leviosa, everyone watched it attentively. When the time came for the students to practice, Elmi effortlessly lifted his feather into the air since he had mastered the spell long ago.
The class, typically challenging for many first-years, proved to be a breeze for Elmi. His wand moved with fluid precision, and the incantations flowed effortlessly from his lips. Professor Flitwick, though initially surprised by Elmi's proficiency, couldn't help but be impressed.
"Excellent work, Mr. Fawley!" exclaimed Professor Flitwick, his tiny voice carrying across the room. "Five points to Slytherin for your outstanding charm work."
A few minutes after him, Harry and Hermione successfully cast the spell. Elmi's fellow students looked on in a mix of admiration and perhaps a tinge of envy as he continued to navigate the class with ease. His proficiency in both theory and practical application set him apart, earning him not only academic accolades but also the respect of his peers. When he turned around, he saw Hermione pouting at her desk because she got surpassed by Elmi again.
The friendly competition between Elmi and Hermione became a highlight of the day. Each lesson turned into a battleground of wits and magical prowess. Elmi, drawing from his deep understanding of magical theory, consistently outshone Hermione in practical demonstrations and theoretical discussions.
But Elmi always admired Hermione's talent; she only knew she was a witch and had access to magical books for only a few months before school started, but she was already so advanced. The two engaged in a playful rivalry, each pushing the other to excel.
...
A few days later, Elmi was running for the Transfiguration class, and he wanted to be the first person, so he came early. When he entered the classroom, there was a cat on the teacher's table. Elmi knew perfectly well who this cat was, but he wanted to mess with Professor McGonagall, so he approached the cat and petted its head.
Professor McGonagall must have been shocked by what was happening, or because she didn't want to turn human yet before all the students were here, but when Elmi wouldn't stop petting her, she hissed and swiped her paw,
"Kissshh!"
"Wow! You are one temperamental old cat; okay, ookay, I am not touching you."
It wouldn't be a lie to say the mouth of the cat dropped to the ground, and until every student came into the classroom, she was sending death stares at Elmi. When the time for class started, everyone was there, and she turned into a human; everyone gasped in awe or terror since some students were badmouthing her while waiting.
Professor McGonagall, on the other hand, was staring at Elmi with fiery eyes. Elmi said, "Sorry, Professor McGonagall, I didn't know that was you."
When the class started, Elmi found himself in awe of Professor McGonagall's transformation abilities; she was such a powerful witch, but her magical prowess was never at full display in the books and especially in the movies. Elmi believed she was so much more powerful than depicted. The stern Professor explained the intricate art of turning one object into another. When she started to ask questions, Elmi answered every question, earning nods of approval from Professor McGonagall.
Thanks to Elmi's modern-world high school and college education, he was much better than other wizards at grasping the details of Transfiguration since it depended on clearly imagining the things you wanted to transform in your head. Having a good understanding of the structure and chemical makeup of subsistence helped immensely.
...
Elmi shuffled into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. A thick book clutched tightly in his hands. The other students chatted excitedly, but Elmi's focus was on appearing unremarkable in this class. His eyes scanned the room, landing on Professor Quirrell, who was setting up for the lesson.
As the class began, Elmi deliberately fumbled with his wand, casting spells with clumsiness when it came to mock battles against the moving dummies. They had learned many defensive spells such as: Contengo, Impedimenta, Lumos and Nox.
Elmi would cast the spells perfectly when they were doing practice but look clumsy and talentless when it came to battle. When they started
dummy training, he would turn into Neville. In the eyes of Voldemort, he wanted to look like just another bookish first-year trying to navigate the magical world.
After the lesson, Quirrell approached Elmi as he was packing up his things. "Fawley, i-isn't it?" the Professor inquired, his voice stuttering slightly, a peculiar glint in his eyes.
"Yes, Professor Quirrell," Elmi replied nervously, feigning innocence.
Quirrell's gaze lingered on him, and a sly smile crossed his face. "I couldn't help but notice your talent at spellcasting. Y-you are too nervous, but there's potential there. Have you c-considered joining the D-Duelling Club? I-I-It could fix your problem."
Elmi hesitated, feigning uncertainty. "Oh, um, I don't think I'm that good, Professor. I prefer reading about magic, you know, theory and history."
Quirrell chuckled, his tone soothing. "D-don't be too hard on yourself, my b-boy. Sometimes, practical experience can teach you more than books ever could. A t-talented wizard like yourself might find unexpected strengths in the heat of a d-duel."
Elmi's heart raced, but he kept his composure. "I'm not sure, Professor. I've always been more comfortable with theory. Dueling seems a bit... risky. I don't want to be an auror; I don't think dueling would be that needed."
Quirrell's smile widened, though there was a hint of disappointment in his eyes. "Y-you know, Elmi, one can't always rely on books to get through life. Sometimes, you need to face c-challenges head-on. P-perhaps, with a bit of guidance, you c-could surprise yourself."
As the conversation continued, Elmi subtly steered away from Quirrell's attempts to delve deeper into his potential. He knew that there was more to the Professor than met the eye, and he knew the one pressing may not be Quirrell but his master.
Elmi couldn't understand why Voldi might be doing this, but he was going to keep up the facade of a bookworm until the end. Elmi's mind raced with questions, but he kept his expressions neutral. He thanked Quirrell for the advice and quickly made his exit, leaving the classroom with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity.
The most fascinating part was Elmi was able to see something was wrong with Quirrell; Elmi's eyes were able to see an ink-black fog coalescing behind Quirrell's head. It was coming and going and was only a tiny whisp of fog, but when Quirrell was close to him, Elmi could see it more clearly.