Charms was the only class Alexander had that morning.
Which meant—no rushing, no chaos, and unfortunately—no excuse to nap.
The classroom buzzed softly with focused energy as Professor Flitwick fluttered to the front, clearly in high spirits.
"Good morning, everyone! Today we will continue our work with charms fundamentals, particularly Lumos," he announced, rubbing his hands together. "A simple spell, yes—but simplicity is often where mastery begins!"
Groans echoed quietly.
Most students were still stuck at nothing happens or a tiny spark that fizzles out. Wands flicked. Voices whispered incantations with varying confidence.
"Lumos," Cho whispered beside Alexander.
A small, steady white light appeared at the tip of her wand.
She smiled, relieved.
Alexander barely glanced over.
His wand was already glowing—but not white.
The light shifted smoothly from pale blue to amber… then to violet… then back to white.
No green.
He remembered that rule very clearly.
Not worth terrifying another professor before lunch.
He leaned forward slightly, brow furrowed in concentration.
What if…
"Lumos," he whispered again.
The light brightened—and then dimmed—responding almost like a dial instead of a switch.
Interesting.
He pushed further.
He imagined heat.
Nothing.
He imagined cold, sharp, biting, winter air.
The spell flickered violently and went out.
Alexander frowned.
Again.
"Lumos."
Nothing happened.
Before he could try again, a familiar high-pitched voice spoke beside him.
"Mr. Chen."
Professor Flitwick hovered near his desk, peering at him with sharp, curious eyes.
"I couldn't help but notice—you're not practicing what the class is practicing."
Alexander didn't deny it. "I was trying to see how far the charm can be pushed."
Flitwick hummed thoughtfully. "Color modulation is already impressive for a first-year. But temperature manipulation?"
He shook his head, not unkindly.
"That's far beyond the scope of Lumos. You'd essentially be designing a new spell, not modifying one."
Alexander paused.
"…That sounds useful."
Flitwick smiled—but there was a warning in it.
"Useful, yes. But also time-consuming, dangerous, and something best pursued much later. For now, don't waste your energy chasing what your foundation can't yet support."
He patted Alexander lightly on the shoulder. "When the time comes, though—I'd be very interested to see what you create."
With that, Flitwick drifted away, immediately diving back into enthusiastic encouragement of a struggling Hufflepuff.
Alexander sat back in his chair.
Did he stop?
Absolutely not.
He lowered his wand beneath the desk and whispered again.
"Lumos."
A soft white glow appeared.
He narrowed his eyes, experimenting quietly—shaping brightness, refining control, testing limits without breaking them.
Around him, the class continued as normal.
Incantations. Applause. Corrections.
Alexander barely noticed.
If magic had rules, then rules could be studied.
And if spells had limits—
Then, limits were just challenges waiting to be solved.