After Potions class, next up was Charms with Professor Flitwick.
Lucas and Hermione split up and he arrived at the classroom, a bunch of students were already seated.
They were wearing robes and ties with the blue Ravenclaw eagle emblem on them.
Lucas picked a random spot and sat down.
Not long after, Professor Flitwick walked in, hugging a stack of books. He was really short, had white hair, and was the Head of Ravenclaw House. He also had a bit of goblin blood in him.
But despite his size, this little professor had won several dueling championships back in his school days. That alone made him a legit expert in Charms.
The Ravenclaws clearly had a lot of respect for him. Out of all the professors, Flitwick was probably the kindest. Even Lucas had heard the Eagle House kids talk about him all the time.
"All right, everyone, let's settle down."
Flitwick climbed up onto a stack of books just to be tall enough to see over the desks.
Then he started explaining the course material in his usual cheerful voice.
"Hover Charm, Fire-Making Spell, Softening Charm, Severing Charm, Unlocking Charm, Locking Charm, and Mending Charm. These are the spells we'll be learning in first year," he said.
"At the end of the term, I'll be testing you, so listen up."
Then Flitwick raised his wand and aimed at a book on the desk beside him.
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
Right after that, the thick book lifted into the air like it weighed nothing, earning wide-eyed stares from the young witches and wizards.
"That's the spell we'll be learning in the next class. For now, open your Standard Book of Spells by Miranda Goshawk."
While everyone started flipping open their books, Lucas, sitting quietly in the corner, had already closed his Sharingan. He'd watched every detail of the spell—how the magic flowed, how the wand moved—and memorized it all.
"Let's give it a shot," he whispered to himself.
He pulled out his wand from under his sleeve and pointed it at a small bronze badge on his desk.
No incantation. Just a smooth flick of the wand, exactly matching Flitwick's motion and flow.
Under his focused gaze, the badge floated into the air—slowly and steadily.
What he didn't know was that Professor Flitwick had seen it.
The professor's eyes widened in surprise. Lucas hadn't said a word, yet the badge floated perfectly.
A silent spell.
That was high-level magic—way beyond anything taught in first year.
Silent casting was tricky. Without the incantation to guide the magic, it was easy to lose control and mess up the spell—or worse, hurt yourself.
But Lucas had done it so smoothly it was like he'd been casting silently for years.
"Merlin's beard…" Flitwick muttered under his breath.
Then he frowned slightly.
Why is he in Slytherin?
Seeing the green-trimmed robes made the professor sigh. What a waste of talent.
If he had this kid in Ravenclaw, he could definitely train him up to become the next Dueling Champion. Maybe he should have a word with Snape...
Even Flitwick was surprised to have that thought.
But Lucas's level of spell control, especially at his age, showed clear intelligence and skill. Making something levitate with a regular charm was good. Doing it silently? That took brains.
You had to understand the magic, break down the wand motion, manage the flow of power—it was all careful calculation and control.
Flitwick himself had taken years to learn that.
Meanwhile, Lucas had no clue he'd just caught the attention of the Ravenclaw head.
He was already thinking about what other spells he could "borrow" next.
The problem? No one in their right mind was going to perform dangerous spells in front of a bunch of first-years.
"Should I try learning from Senior Tom?" he mumbled to himself.
Sure, Voldemort's name was cursed, but Tom Riddle wasn't. And if he remembered right, Professor Quirrell was carrying a piece of that senior around with him...
Before he could think more about it, class ended.
Lucas was just about to pack up and head back when Malfoy suddenly stepped in front of him—flanked by his usual two goons.
"Something you need, my guy?" Lucas asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Lucas, do you know anything about Quidditch?"
Malfoy wasn't here to pick a fight—not this time. He had two open spots on the Slytherin Quidditch team and was here to offer one.
Ever since Harry had joined Gryffindor's team, Malfoy had begged his school governor father to pull some strings and get him on Slytherin's.
Turned out, one of the team's players was just about to drop out for certification or something. That left an opening, and naturally, Malfoy thought of his "bro."
Given how strong Lucas was, Malfoy figured they'd steamroll the Gryffindor team.
And since he'd seen Lucas's skills firsthand, he knew the guy wasn't someone you wanted on the opposing side. So he pulled every string he could to make it happen.
"You want me on the team?" Lucas asked, a little surprised.
"Yeah! I mean—come on, with you and me together, those little lions are toast!" Malfoy said with full confidence.
"What position's open? Seeker?" Lucas asked, thinking it over.
He didn't mind the idea. Sounded like a fun way to kill time. But honestly, the only position that made sense to him was Seeker. Every other role could get completely overshadowed if the Seeker caught the Snitch.
"Nope! I'm the Seeker!" Malfoy blurted quickly.
As soon as he saw Lucas about to turn and leave, he panicked.
"Wait, wait—c'mon, let's at least play one match together, yeah?"
Lucas stared at him for a second, then nodded.
"Alright. You got yourself a deal."