Chapter 67: 5th September 1991, Thursday: Part 1

The next day, George woke up with another bang to the head. He opened his eyes and saw a copy of 'Fantastic beasts and where to find them' laying on his quilt. Knowing exactly how this book ended up on his bed, George looked over to the dormitories door and saw Theodore shivering whilst hiding around the corner. As soon as their eyes connected, Theodore ran away just like he did yesterday. George turned to his alarm clock and saw that the time was currently five minutes past eight.

The alarm had indeed activated a few minutes ago and yet he'd remained asleep. Great, now George had confirmation that the alarm clock wasn't doing its one and only job. He'd set it to activate ten minutes ago so Theodore didn't need to pelt him with any more random objects. Whatever magic shock that thing emitted, it clearly wasn't powerful enough to wake him up. Was there even any point in adding the clock to the to-do list? It was getting so long that even George's photographic memory was struggling to keep track of it all.

As was customary, George pulled out his mirror and looked at his reflection to find that his eyes had remained blue. This had been merely a precaution since his medication lasted three days, and his eyes should turn red on the weekend. With how his body had been playing up, George wouldn't have been surprised if his patron's prescription started to lose its effectiveness. With a bit of luck, his veiny hard-boiled sweets would remain one of the few constants in his life. God knows he didn't need any more complications with his body to deal with.

After checking the bloodshot veins under his eyelids, George put the mirror away and picked up Theodore's book as he climbed out of his bed. He performed his normal stretches and produce the corresponding cracking sounds. It might have just been his sensitive hearing, but he could swear the bone cracking was getting louder. George then tossed the book onto Theodore's bed and walked into the dorm's bathroom. He was feeling particularly groggy today and was in desperate need of an ice-cold bath. The entirety of last night was spent in the Library sieving through over five hundred books relating to advanced potions. Goerge had accidentally fallen asleep whilst reading and had been woken up by the librarian.

Unlike the last Library visit, George's time hadn't been completely wasted. He managed to find two books referencing some potion master's experiences in creating the Calming Draught. The good news ended there as the book's contents were almost as vague as the advanced potion book. The written techniques varied in ways he couldn't fully comprehend until he started attempting to brew the potion himself. Unfortunately, George found the second book late in the evening and he had fallen asleep halfway into reading it. Provided he kept the bath time brief, he should have enough time to return to the Library to finish that book before he had to attend his first Charms class.

After a hasty snatch and grab from the Great Hall, George was sitting in the Library at a large empty table with an old dusty book open in front of him. He was occasionally gulping from the jug of orange juice in his right hand whilst turning the pages and soaking up all of the book's content. After finding the book from last night and skimming through the pages, George realised his recollection of what he'd already read had been severely affected by exhaustion and he inevitably needed to read the book from the start. The concepts were far beyond his understanding, the intricate detail required him to dedicate several minutes after every paragraph just to comprehend what he was reading.

From what George could surmise, the average pioneering wizard wasn't an author. Therefore, they lacked the skills needed to express their ideas in a way that others could comprehend. Take this book for example, the long-dead author made the process of describing how to brew a potion sound like describing colours to a blind person. Apparently, emotions and feelings play a large part in the measurements of the ingredients. George couldn't get his head around that logic, how was he meant to work with that jibberish? It was fair to say that these books were as clear as mud and he felt he had made little progress in improving his odds of producing the potion.

Regardless of how poorly these books may be written, incomprehensible information was better than none at all. Perhaps once he started to brew the potion, everything he had read would begin to make sense. George closed the large book after finishing it, sending dust flying into the air. Then he returned it to the shelf behind him and left the potion section of the Library. George would be quite content never reading a single book about potions ever again, but he knew his wish was unrealistic. As long as he didn't want to ask someone for help, he would have to resort to finding it out on his own. Oh the joys of being a lone spy behind enemy lines.

George checked his watch and realised that the time was currently two minutes before his Charms class started. A feeling of dread came over him as he realised it would take a minimum of five minutes for him to arrive at the lesson, it was physically impossible for him not to be late. This blasted Library had screwed him over yet again, attempting to comprehend the book had distorted his perception of time. If no time to lose, George darted out of the practically empty Library and began to head up the moving staircases to reach the third floor.

Even with his recently improved speed and a complete disregard for his safety navigating up the moving staircase, George couldn't make up the time. He was cursing himself for making such a simple mistake, Flitwick was one of the teachers he didn't want to disappoint. He was going to have to make up for his poor punctuality by impressing Flitwick somehow, maybe a little showing off might be in order. George managed to make it outside of the classroom door in only four minutes of leaping up the moving staircase and sprinting down corridors, a whole minute less than his predicted time but still not enough. He didn't hesitate to push open the door and walk into the room. Hopefully, his truancy may be overlooked since he was only late by two minutes.

After entering the classroom, George was greeted by two rows of students as well as a small teacher staring back at him. As usual, he appeared to have become the centre of attention. He felt he had gained a bad habit of getting the attention of everyone no matter which room he entered, it was like a curse that he would never be allowed to blend in. The room was like any other from Hogwarts, with high ceilings, a big window, and victorian style architecture. There were four rows of desks for the sixty students currently attending, two rows on either side of the room. There were currently Slytherin and Hufflepuff attending this class, Slytherin was on the left and Hufflepuff was on the right.

The eyes of the students only lingered on George temporarily but there was a clear difference between the reaction from Slytherin and the Gryffindor students. It was no secret why the Slytherin students were looking at him with disgust, George being late was no doubt destroying the elite house's good name. At the end of the room was a large stack of various-sized books towering seven feet high, they were consequently obscuring a portion of the large window at the back of the room. Just in front of this mountain of books was a small desk. It could hardly be seen because another pile of old books surrounded it which obscured the desk from view.

From atop this pile of books stood the shortest teacher at Hogwarts, the half-goblin Flitwick. He was an odd-looking man that appeared to be middle-aged, he looked like a goblin without long fingers and pointy teeth. He had dark brown hair with a centre parting, he also wore golden glasses and had a large brown moustache. He wore a neat three-piece suit with a large gown over the top that came down to his feet similar to the student's robes, and he was currently holding a short wand in his right hand. The half-goblin's disposition was fortunately still cheerful even after a late student halted his class.

Flitwick looked at George, "ahh, one more. You've arrived at the perfect time. I was just asking if anyone could tell the rest of the class the definition of a charm and how it differs from other fields of magic.

But since you have just presented yourself, I see no reason not to ask you Mr…"

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George politely bowed towards Flitwick whilst answering, "George sir, George Linwood."

Flitwick gave George a big smile, "of course, Mr Linwood. How could I have forgotten, you're the boy who had a stro… str…striking resemblance with one of my former students. Could you kindly inform the class of what a charm is?

There's no need to be nervous, there's no such thing as wrong answers.''

Flitwick seemed to stutter in the middle of his speech, he must have realised it may not be appropriate to talk about students' personal matters in the middle of a lesson. Unfortunately for both the goblin and George, most of the students heard Flitwick slip up and gave George another curious look. He was probably going to get most of the Hufflepuff house now asking questions about him as well as Slytherin. His infamy was unrelenting in its never-ending growth. George wasn't particularly keen on answering the question since this would give him more unnecessary attention. On the other hand, it would also provide a perfect opportunity for him to gain some much-needed brownie points with Flitwick.

Flitwick was an extremely intelligent man and was well deserving of the posting as head of Ravenclaw. Just as McGonagall was an expert in transfiguration, Flitwick equalled her in his field of charms. Not only that, but he was also an exceptional wizard in combat with an outstanding history of winning many duelling competitions. George valued this teacher just as much as he did McGonagall and had the same intentions of receiving private tutelage if he could get on good terms. Flitwick valued the pursuit of knowledge above all else and George was willing to indulge him to win his favour. When it came to his behaviour in class, he was willing to act like Hermione and sound like a know-it-all.

George spoke clearly and fluently in front of the class, "Charms are a type of magic that add certain properties to an object or an individual. It is differentiated from other fields of magic such as transfiguration as charm spells will only add or change properties of an object rather than alter the object itself. For example…"

George pulled out his wand with his right hand and held his left hand beside the wand's tip with his index finger pointing towards the ceiling.

Then he pointed his wand at the tip of his finger and said, "Incendio!"

A small flame the size of a pear appeared from nothing and hovered on top of George's index finger as if it was the wick of a candle. He didn't feel like overexerting himself simply because it wasn't necessary, Flitwick wasn't going to get the same flashy treatment as McGonagall. There was the sound of oohing and ahhing amongst the students as they appreciated George's 'simple' conjuring spell. The only one that deviated from the rest of the room was Theodore. That boy was still acting odd as he went out of his way to avoid George's line of sight from the moment he had first entered the room.

George didn't allow himself to get distracted as he continued his demonstration. He made sure everyone could clearly see the flame before performing the next part of the presentation.

He pointed his wand at the flame, "Colovario!"

The flame flickered as it changed colour from vibrant orange to a rich green which was in keeping with the Slytherin colours. George might as well do a little pandering to his fellow housemates to remove some of their prejudice.

He continued to explain, "the flame was created via magic, it is therefore considered a Transfiguration spell. However, changing the colour of the flame would be considered a Charm spell. Since the flame has remained green after the spell was cast, it can be considered bewitched. This applies to any item that has been altered by a long-lasting Charm spell, one of the more obvious examples would be flying brooms.

Does that answer your question Professor Flitwick or do you need me to elaborate further?"

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