38
Chapter 38: Learn, Understand, and Control
Ever since Wade overheard the conversation between Quirrell and the spectral form of Voldemort, he avoided secluded corners. On class-free days, he spent most of his time in the Ravenclaw common room. Fortunately, Michael's interest in Quidditch waned after Ravenclaw lost to Hufflepuff, and two students were injured, which dampened his enthusiasm for the sport.
During Defense Against the Dark Arts classes, Wade observed Quirrell closely. When facing students, Professor Quirrell remained timid and somewhat pitiful. When a mischievous student queried about his fall during the Quidditch match, he awkwardly stammered, "I... I didn't notice... it seemed... someone pushed me—"
The students wore expressions of disbelief—who would dare play a prank on a professor? They attributed Quirrell's stumble to over-excitement, though none voiced this suspicion.
No one questioned Wade. He was regarded as a model student—respectful to professors, diligent in studies, and trouble-free, epitomizing Ravenclaw values.
After class, Padma swiftly packed her bag and approached eagerly. "Heading to the Ravenclaw common room to study?"
Quirrell's teaching wasn't stellar, but his homework assignments were as challenging as Snape's. Even Ravenclaw students found writing extensive essays a headache.
After spending time studying in the Ravenclaw common room, Padma seemed to have cracked the code for writing essays, even enjoying the process. Completing assignments swiftly boosted her self-esteem, contrasting with classmates who grumbled about the workload, struggling with each sentence.
Wade noticed her conversing with others in the common room several times—
"How much of your essay is left?"
"Huh? You still have that much to write? I finished mine in just forty minutes yesterday. It was quite straightforward. Didn't you pay attention during the lecture?"
After a few incidents, classmates avoided her, leaving Padma to stick with her sister. However, judging by Parvati's expression, she endured Padma's boasting to glean ideas for her own work.
Wade considered advising her to tone down her self-importance, but Michael, glancing at Padma with a smile from the far end of the table, remarked, "Isn't she adorable like this? Her face screams 'Aren't I amazing?' and 'Come, praise me!'"
He chuckled involuntarily, "Silly and smart—like a child."
...Alright.
Wade swallowed his comment.
Perhaps he was too mature or too practical to appreciate this girl's playful charm.
Padma eagerly anticipated heading to the Ravenclaw common room, with Michael winking at Wade behind her back.
Wade glanced over, then turned back. "You two go ahead. I have some questions for Professor Flitwick."
Michael beamed and gave a thumbs-up, signaling his gratitude, and even gestured twice more to emphasize it.
Padma looked disappointed. "Fine..."
The two departed together, leaving Wade to gather his belongings and ascend to the seventh floor.
He wasn't deliberately creating chances for Michael; he genuinely needed to consult Professor Flitwick.
Professor Flitwick's office lay on the seventh floor, a rarely traversed area, quiet except for murmurs from portraits along the corridor.
Speaking of active portraits, Wade had never encountered one as lively as Griffiths. Most portraits in the castle merely stretched or turned their heads, with some never leaving their frames.
For instance, Miss Claudia.
Approaching an oak door with an eagle carving, it flapped its wings upon seeing Wade. "Wade Gray to visit," it announced to itself, then after a moment, "Permission to enter."
The oak door slid open, allowing Wade to step inside.
Professor Flitwick's office mirrored Ravenclaw Tower's style—an arched room with thirteen windows offering views of Ravenclaw Tower and the Owlery. Colored sunlight filtered through stained glass, casting vibrant patterns on the floor.
Most furniture catered to Professor Flitwick's stature, except for the grand bookshelf. It held hundreds of volumes, from floor to ceiling, alongside stacks of parchment—Professor Flitwick's meticulous notes, occasionally lent out to students. Wade presently had two books in his bag detailing favored students' achievements.
"Ah, Wade."
Professor Flitwick's voice issued from above. Wade looked up to see the professor perched on a tall, retractable ladder. Step by step, it shrank until becoming a small stool, from which Professor Flitwick jumped gracefully.
"I'm delighted with your 'Softening Charm' essay," he exclaimed. "Any new queries today?"
"Yes." Wade produced borrowed notes. "I've completed 'Standard Spells: Level 3' and seek assessment."
"Of course! Um... begin with the Cheering Charm," Professor Flitwick instructed.
In the ensuing session, Wade flawlessly demonstrated over a dozen third-year spells. Professor Flitwick was nearly beside himself with joy!
"Oh, Wade! Marvelous! You're a prodigy!" he exclaimed repeatedly. "In just three months—from novice to this level! Your progress is astounding! At this rate, you'll ace your O.W.L.s in less than a year! You're destined for greatness!"
Wade smiled. "Professor, may I continue borrowing fourth-year texts and notes?"
"Absolutely prepared! I anticipated this!" Professor Flitwick waved his wand, summoning books from the table. They included 'Standard Spells: Fourth Year,' teaching materials, lesson plans, and exceptional essays by former students.
Teaching for decades, Professor Flitwick needed only his wand in class, preserving early writings meticulously. Wade's enhanced vision facilitated rapid spell acquisition, though the application varied—a fire spell could light a cigarette for some, ignite a bonfire for others, or devastate a city.
The disparity lay in power and comprehension.
Some lost control, their fire spells backfiring. Others manipulated flames—bending, burning, or extinguishing at will.
Such control stemmed from not just magical power, but understanding the spell's essence.
Wade's vision enabled "learning," library books facilitated "understanding," and Professor Flitwick's materials inched him toward "control."
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