The evening found Anduin meticulously preparing. He wasn't merely getting dressed; he was shifting his psychological state from that of a standard Hogwarts student to a dedicated researcher.
He spent a quiet half-hour in the common room, not reading, but performing mental exercises—the same 'time delay' focus drills he'd described to Flitwick—to ensure his magical core was fully primed.
This was an audition, a display of commitment, and he treated it with the gravity of a military operation. Tonight, he was venturing into the academic elite.
He made his way up to the eighth floor of the main tower, a less-trafficked corridor known for housing dusty administrative offices and ancient faculty quarters.
His destination was a specific segment of the wall near the supposed location of Rowena Ravenclaw's office: a vast, elaborate tapestry depicting a medieval knight in gleaming silver armour, standing guard at a misty stone archway.
"Password," the figure in the mural requested, its voice surprisingly resonant, seeming to echo from the fabric of the stone itself. The knight's painted eyes followed Anduin with unnerving accuracy.
"Unicorn," Anduin read the command aloud, having memorized the precise detail from Flitwick's exclusive invitation card.
"As you wish, seeker of the impossible," the knight in the mural confirmed. With a soft grinding sound of moving stone that belied its painted nature, the knight stepped aside, revealing a discreet, unassuming oak door that swung silently inward.
The room within was immediately and strikingly Ravenclaw. It was furnished like a high-end seminar space, but its academic gravity was profound. The walls were not bare stone; they were lined with towering, dark wood bookshelves that housed a bewildering array of antique and obscure texts, making the space feel more like a private, forbidden library than a classroom.
About a dozen plush velvet desks and high-backed chairs were arranged in a semi-circle, all upholstered in deep royal blue and trimmed with bronze piping. The thick, luxurious blue carpet and heavy, sound-dampening curtains completed the intellectual, insulated atmosphere.
A scattering of upper-year students were already inside, chatting amongst themselves in low, professional voices. They held heavy notebooks and looked prepared for a long night of serious, complex work.
"Anduin? What in the name of Merlin are you doing here?"
The voice was cool, precise, and carried the effortless authority of someone accustomed to being obeyed. It was Vanessa Greengrass, a formidable Fifth-Year witch and the current Prefect of Slytherin.
Vanessa had been invited to the club in her Third Year, an unprecedented honour at the time, and she still held a proprietary pride over the group. She quickly approached Anduin, her emerald eyes narrowed in professional confusion.
"This is Professor Flitwick's Advanced Theoretical Charms Seminar, Anduin. It is absolutely not a place one can simply wander into, and certainly not a place for a First Year," she cautioned, keeping her voice low but firm. She genuinely believed he was lost or had followed someone in.
"I suggest you leave immediately, quietly, before the Professor arrives. Anger him by disrupting the preparation, and you'll spend the rest of term cleaning potion flasks, no matter how well you did on the Wingardium Leviosa test."
Anduin paused, meeting her gaze with an easy, unperturbed smile. He knew he had to handle the situation with perfect composure, leveraging the Professor's invitation as his shield.
"President Greengrass, I appreciate the warning, but you've quite misunderstood the situation," Anduin responded smoothly, using her official Prefect title to show respect while maintaining his equal footing. He smoothly pulled the heavy, embossed parchment invitation from his inner robe pocket, giving it a subtle, unmistakable flourish before tucking it away.
"Professor Flitwick extended a specific invitation for me to join the club this evening, based on a discussion regarding my existing skill set."
Vanessa's expression shifted instantly from professional warning to profound academic shock. She knew the exclusive nature of the club. To be admitted in her third year had been a career highlight; to admit a literal beginner who had only been in the castle for seventy-two hours was utterly unheard of.
She took a step closer, lowering her voice further. "Look, Anduin, if the Professor is bringing you in as an observer, that's one thing. But you need to understand the rhythm here. This is not simply a class where you listen to lectures. This is a research group. You have to complete complex, non-standard assignments given by the Professor, sometimes requiring independent fieldwork, participate in advanced academic discussions, and often directly assist the Professor with his personal, ongoing research work. Can you honestly commit to that kind of sustained effort while juggling your first-year mandatory coursework?" She was subtly testing him, trying to gauge if he was a genuine prodigy or just a brief novelty.
"Don't concern yourself, Senior Greengrass," Anduin interrupted her softly, his voice conveying total self-assurance. "The Professor provided a full, candid explanation of the club's operational rhythm and academic demands. My acceptance was based on a mutual understanding of the expectations. I assure you, I am here to contribute, not to distract."
Anduin knew that the 'Magic Club' was far more than a study group; it was, as he understood from Flitwick's detailed explanation, essentially a three-tiered system of Charms scholarship:
The Standard Curriculum: What ordinary students learned in class.
The Advanced Track: For those who scored Exceeds Expectations (E) or Outstanding (O) in their Fifth-Year examinations, granting them access to Professor Flitwick's challenging N.E.W.T.-level courses—the core of academic mastery.
The Charms Research Circle (The Club): This was the pinnacle. Only those whose academic courage, dedication, and unconventional talent were profoundly appreciated by the Professor were invited.
Here, they studied and researched content entirely outside the standard examination syllabus, pushing the known boundaries of Charms. The relationship was indeed akin to graduate students and their mentor.
Seeing the unshakeable calm in his eyes, Vanessa finally conceded the point. She simply motioned to an empty chair near the front. "Very well. Take a seat then. Just... try to keep up." She returned to her own desk, still glancing at him with a mixture of suspicion and fascination.
Professor Flitwick bustled into the room moments later. His eyes immediately darted to Anduin, and his already cheerful face broke into a broad, genuine smile.
"Anduin! My dear boy, I am absolutely delighted to see your timely arrival," he chirped, his voice echoing slightly in the quiet room. "Our conversation the other day—it truly was a monumental inspiration for me. It has completely reframed my approach to teaching control."
The other students—comprised of Third through Sixth Years—were now openly staring at Anduin. The Professor rarely greeted anyone with such warmth, let alone a first-year child. Their collective attention, a mixture of senior skepticism and grudging curiosity, settled heavily on the Slytherin boy.
Anduin, unfazed, stood up fully. He knew a display was expected, if only to justify his presence. "Hello, Professor. The honour is entirely mine. Your teachings have not only answered my existing questions but have brilliantly illuminated the path forward for my independent study."
Flitwick beamed, giving a satisfied nod before stepping up to his custom-made, slightly elevated chair at the front dais. He looked around the room with a professional flourish.
"It looks as though everyone is precisely on time. Now, let us commence our first meeting of the Charms Research Circle for the new school year."
"First and foremost, let us welcome our newest contributors, whose potential I find to be truly exciting." He clapped his tiny hands together.
"First, we welcome Sherry Lunst, a bright Fourth-Year student from Hufflepuff. Sherry has shown an excellent conceptual grasp of elemental Charms theory!" Sherry, a stout girl with nervous energy, stood up, gave a quick, stiff nod to the assembly, and received a round of encouraging applause.
"Next, we welcome Quirinus Quillo, a Fifth-Year Ravenclaw. Mr. Quillo possesses a fascinating, if sometimes overly cautious, grasp of counter-curses and defensive structures."
Quirinus Quillo, visibly shaking, awkwardly rose, rubbing his hands together with palpable anxiety. He managed a shaky salute to the surrounding students, who applauded with slightly less enthusiasm, sensing his palpable nervousness.
"And finally, it is with particular pride that I introduce Anduin Wilson, a First-Year student from the noble House of Slytherin!"
A ripple of sheer, unadulterated surprise swept through the older students. A First-Year? He had only been enrolled for mere days! Whispers immediately broke out: Is he a distant relative? Has the Professor lost his mind? Is this some sort of experimental study?
For a moment, the seniors were so stunned they forgot to applaud, their expressions fixed on the young boy with undisguised disbelief.
Professor Flitwick, sensing the tension, was the first to clap, his applause sharp and insistent. This broke the silence, and everyone else quickly followed, their applause polite but their eyes still fixed on Anduin, who simply stood, composed, and gave a measured nod to the room.
After the introductions, Professor Flitwick wasted no time. He cleared his throat and his voice became entirely academic, cutting through the remaining chatter.
"Today is the inaugural session of the school year. I trust our returning members are already prepared, and I hope the new young wizards will settle quickly into the rigorous pace of our research. I shall now announce the seven high-level Research Mandates for this academic year."
The professor raised his wand and tapped it sharply against the air above a large, blank slate of black slate fixed to the wall. The following titles instantly glowed into existence in crisp, shimmering silver script:
The Kinematics of Silence: In-depth research into the foundational techniques and physiological methods required to quickly transition from vocalized spellcasting to non-verbal (silent) magic. A direct nod to Anduin's expertise.
The Architecture of Incantation: Analysis of how wandless spellcasting was originally achieved in the pre-wand era, focusing on the mental and magical pathways required to fully bypass the instrument's stabilizing properties.
Advanced Thermal Charms & Energy Transfer: The development and research of highly efficient, micro-scale temperature control spells for use in both practical applications (e.g., preservation) and potential combat scenarios (e.g., sudden thermal shock).
Acoustic Charms and Sonic-Based Magic: Development ideas, theoretical frameworks, and practical application aspects of spells that utilize or manipulate sound wave-based magic—including sonic shields and directional sonic attacks.
Comparative Spell Formation: The systematic interpretation of the genesis and function of spells and talismans from ancient Runic Scripts and an evolutionary study of Charms across various magical cultures and countries.
The Perfect Extension Spell Project (Continuing Mandate): Continuation of the multi-year research into identifying optimal high-quality materials and conducting extreme data experiments necessary to safely contain and carry the Perpetual Extension Charm (Homenum Revelio was the prior focus). The existing top-tier material is Fairy Ulim Steel, with thirty-seven other high-quality alternatives requiring testing.
Magical Sensory Amplification: Techniques for accurately measuring and systematically increasing magical sensitivity, with a specific focus on isolating the neural-magical nexus and quantifying the control improvements associated with deep meditative or focusing practices. Another direct echo of the conversation with Anduin.
Anduin stared at the list. It was a syllabus of power, a curriculum of boundary-pushing research. These weren't mere homework assignments; they were invitations to reshape the field of Charms.
The first two topics, directly related to his own unique path, and the seventh, a challenge to quantify his own ability, felt like bespoke invitations, tailored to his needs. He knew, instinctively, that the true purpose of the Charms Research Circle was not merely to study magic—it was to create it.