Professor Flitwick, with his wealth of teaching experience, knew perfectly well that first-year students had limited patience. After covering Charms theory for a while, he shifted to the part everyone was truly excited for—learning actual magic. The first spell the new students would study was the Lumos Charm.
The Lumos Charm, invented in the eighteenth century, was one of the simplest and most practical spells in the wizarding world.
"Now, repeat after me—Lumos," Professor Flitwick said in the gentle, sing-song tone of someone teaching small children to read.
"Lumos," the class echoed.
"Good! Raise your wand, give it a small flick, and clearly pronounce the incantation: Lumos." He demonstrated, his tiny voice filled with enthusiasm. "Remember—wand movement and precise pronunciation are crucial."
"Go on, try it yourselves!"
Instantly, the room filled with excited incantations. Albert pretended to practice along, though he had mastered the spell long ago. It would be far too awkward to stand there doing nothing while everyone else was trying.
"Look everyone! Mr. Anderson has succeeded!" Professor Flitwick announced delightedly. "Excellent work—five points to Gryffindor!"
Dozens of eyes swiveled toward Albert. Being abruptly thrust into the center of attention made him stiffen, and he quickly shot a reproachful look at Lee Jordan, who was enthusiastically patting his shoulder as if he'd won a prize.
Several other students managed to light their wands soon after, though most could only maintain the glow for a few seconds before it sputtered out.
Lee, Fred, and George were still struggling by the end of class. Diggory's wand did shine briefly—but dimmed almost immediately.
There was, of course, the inevitable mishap: a Hufflepuff boy swung his wand far too vigorously, producing a burst of flame that set the robe of the student in front of him alight. Professor Flitwick quickly doused the fire, then punished the offender with lines:
I am a wizard, not a baboon waving a stick.
Sanna—who had chatted with Albert that morning—was faring no better. Her wand produced only fits of black, choking smoke until Flitwick wafted it out with a sweep of his own wand.
"I'll never get it," she groaned in despair.
"Don't worry," Professor Flitwick reassured the panicked students. "You have plenty of time to master this charm. Calm your mind and concentrate."
Before the bell rang, he assigned homework.
"Practice Lumos. Next lesson we'll continue, and also learn its counter-charm."
Albert mentally ticked his homework off as already completed.
When class ended, he deliberately lingered at the back of the departing students—he intended to ask Professor Flitwick something.
Something important.
Something about conjuring an umbrella from a wand.
"Mr. Anderson," Flitwick greeted him kindly, "your Duplication Charm earlier was quite impressive. You have a remarkable talent for Charms."
"Thank you, Professor," Albert said with a smile. "I actually wanted to ask about another spell."
"Oh? What spell is that?"
"…How can I conjure an umbrella from my wand?"
Flitwick blinked in confusion. "An umbrella? Whatever for?"
"Ahem. It's been raining nonstop these past two days, so I thought—if I could conjure an umbrella, I wouldn't have to worry about getting drenched."
The professor chuckled. Some students pursued magic for glory. Some pursued it for knowledge. But some—like Mr. Anderson—pursued it for sheer convenience.
"Mr. Anderson, are you familiar with Talismanic Incantations?" he asked.
Albert recited from memory, "A charm that imbues an object or creature with specific properties." Which meant… conjuring an umbrella wasn't Charms at all?
Flitwick nodded. "What you're describing is actually a branch of Transfiguration known as the Summoning Charm."
"Summoning Charm?" Albert blinked. He only knew Accio.
To demonstrate, Flitwick lifted his wand and conjured a flower out of seemingly thin air.
"This is Summoning Charm. Nothing appears from nowhere—magic cannot create matter. I simply summoned the flower from elsewhere." He offered it to Albert. "Much like the Scouring Charm removes dirt—it doesn't destroy it, merely relocates it."
"I think I understand," Albert said thoughtfully.
"Good. Summoning Charm is O.W.L.-level magic. Its counterpart is the Disappearing Charm, which is a bit simpler. If you're interested in Transfiguration theory, Professor McGonagall will be delighted to guide you."
He paused, then added warmly, "And of course, if you have any questions about Charms, my door is always open."
He pointed at the three boys waiting impatiently by the door. "Now go on, you'll be late for your next class."
"Professor, just one more question."
Flitwick folded his hands patiently.
"Is it possible to store light from the Lumos Charm? I mean… keep a light source without actively casting magic each time?"
Flitwick raised his brows in surprise. "A fascinating question. Theoretically, yes—but it's very advanced magic, involving several fields. I'm curious—what sparked this idea?"
"In the Muggle world, there's something called a flashlight," Albert explained. "It works similarly to Lumos—you can turn it on and off whenever you want."
As he spoke, a new mission silently appeared on his panel:
Inventor of the Magic Lamp
You've stumbled upon the edge of a certain domain. Why not pursue it?
Research and create a magic lamp.
Reward: 3000 XP, +1 Lumos Rank, +1 Disappearing Charm Rank, Title: Inventor of the Magic Lamp.
The moment Albert stepped out of the classroom, George pounced.
"What were you asking Flitwick about?"
"About conjuring umbrellas from wands, of course."
"And?" Fred asked, grinning.
"He said it's O.W.L.-level Transfiguration." Albert sighed dramatically. Maybe he should look for a chance to study Summoning Charm early.
"So you won't be conjuring umbrellas anytime soon," Fred snickered.
The four of them headed down toward the second floor for History of Magic, chattering as they went.