The Charms classroom sat on the seventh floor of the castle. Its windows faced east, and when the morning light slanted in, you could see dust motes drifting lazily through the air.
Regulus sat in the second row of the Slytherin section. To his right was Cuthbert Avery. One seat to his left sat Alex Rosier.
Alex was nervously flipping through Standard Book of Spells, Grade One, murmuring the pronunciation of the Levitation Charm under his breath.
"Relax, Rosier," Avery said with a sideways glance, his tone edged with mockery. "Professor Flitwick isn't going to eat you."
"I just… want to make sure I say it right," Alex muttered.
The classroom door creaked softly as it opened. Professor Filius Flitwick all but floated inside. He was so small that he had to stand atop a stack of thick books to see over the lectern.
But once he settled there and those bright eyes swept across the room, the chatter died instantly.
"Good morning, children!" Flitwick's voice was high but clear. "Today, we'll be learning one of the most fundamental spells in magic, the Levitation Charm. It looks simple, but it carries the essence of spellcasting itself!"
He flicked his wand, and a white feather drifted out of a box on the lectern, hovering in the middle of the classroom.
"Now, repeat after me," Flitwick said, raising his wand. "Win-gar-dium Levi-o-sa!
"Three things to remember. A smooth, arcing wrist motion, stretch the 'gar,' and on the final 'sa,' release your breath gently."
A feather lay on every desk. Uneven chanting filled the room.
Regulus lifted his wand slightly. "Wingardium Leviosa."
His voice was steady. His motion precise.
The feather rose slowly, steady as if suspended by an invisible thread. It hovered in front of him without the slightest tremor.
"Perfect! Five points to Slytherin!" Professor Flitwick nearly hopped off his stack of books as he hurried over, craning his head to study the feather.
"Look at that stability! Not a hint of wobble. Mr. Black, have you practiced this before?"
The same question Professor McGonagall had asked.
"I just listened carefully to your explanation, Professor," Regulus said modestly.
"Excellent! Simply excellent!" Flitwick exclaimed, his small hands fluttering.
"Mr. Black, perhaps you'd be willing to demonstrate for the class?"
"Of course." Regulus inclined his head. He let the feather drift down, then cast the spell again. "Wingardium Leviosa."
Under dozens of watchful eyes, the feather floated up once more, stopping at exactly the same height.
"Observe the movement," Flitwick called out. "Pronunciation matters, but so does the wand motion. Remember, an arc!"
Regulus guided the feather back onto the desk, then looked up. "Professor, may I ask a question?"
"Ask away, my boy. Ask!"
"I was wondering," Regulus said, "when the Levitation Charm acts on an object, does it strip away its weight, or does magic form an invisible support for it?
"If it's the former, does the object's mass still exist? If it's the latter, is the magical support evenly distributed, or focused on a specific point?"
The room went utterly quiet. Heads turned toward him.
Most of them were only thinking about getting the feather off the desk. None had considered what was happening beneath the spell.
Regulus's question felt like it was peeling back the charm's surface.
Professor Flitwick adjusted his round spectacles, admiration flickering in his eyes. "What a marvelous question! Very few first-years think about magic at this level."
He gave a light wave of his wand. Another feather lifted from the lectern, hovered briefly, then descended.
"The answer is that it's a bit of both, but the core lies in the balance between magic and mass.
"The Levitation Charm doesn't truly remove weight. Mass is intrinsic to an object, just as the soul cannot exist without the body. Magic cannot erase it."
His wand tip pointed to the floating feather. A faint silver glow formed around it.
"What we do is act upon the object with magic. A wizard's magic repels gravity while evenly enveloping the object, like clothing it in a light cloak woven of magic.
"The support is distributed throughout. Only then can the object hover steadily, without tilting or spinning."
Regulus nodded slightly, then pressed on. "And if the object's mass changes?
"For example, if a drop of water lands on a floating feather, does the magic adjust on its own, or does the caster need to re-guide it?"
"An excellent extension!" Flitwick said, his voice rising with excitement. "Magic is linked to the caster. When an object's mass changes, the magic senses it immediately and adjusts.
"But that requires the caster to maintain focus. The connection can't be broken."
He looked at Regulus, smiling warmly. "If concentration falters, the magic disperses. The object will either fall, or drift as the added weight pulls it off balance.
"The fact that you thought of this tells me you're not just casting spells. You're thinking. And that's the key to becoming a great wizard."
"Thank you, Professor," Regulus said sincerely. "I learned a lot."
Flitwick beamed up at him. "Keep thinking like that. Another five points to Slytherin!"
Low, excited chatter rippled through the Slytherin benches. Ravenclaws kept glancing their way as well.
Regulus knew Flitwick's explanation reflected the wizarding world's traditional understanding. To him, it felt more like the interaction between magical and gravitational fields.
Just not something he could put into words.
Flitwick moved on to check other students' progress. The room filled again with overlapping chants of "Wingardium Leviosa," feathers jerking upward, drifting crookedly, or refusing to budge at all.
Alex Rosier had already tried seven times.
His feather either trembled in place or shot up into the ceiling before fluttering back down.
On the last attempt, it even let out a thin wisp of smoke.
"Stop for a moment," Regulus said.
Alex jumped. "W-what's wrong?"
Regulus stepped beside him. "Professor Flitwick said to draw an arc. You're pumping your arm up and down. Watch."
He rolled his wrist, the wand tracing a smooth curve. "Magic should be calm. You look like you're hammering metal."
Alex's face flushed. "I-I was afraid I wasn't using enough force."
"The Levitation Charm doesn't need force," Regulus said, lowering his hand. "It needs precision. Try again. Smooth, continuous motion. Don't break it."
He adjusted Alex's posture again and again. Alex wasn't stupid. Just nervous.
Maybe that was what it felt like to be a gentle pure-blood branch dropped into the heart of a true pure-blood nest.
Regulus considered it quietly. He needed people like that.
Alex took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a few seconds.
"Win-gar-dium Levi-o-sa."
This time, his wrist traced a passable arc. The feather wobbled, lifted two inches off the desk, hovered for three seconds, then fell.
"I did it!" Alex's eyes lit up.
"Not bad," Regulus said with a nod. "But there's still resistance. You weren't decisive enough. Keep practicing."
Alex nodded hard, gratitude written all over his face.
Maybe Black wasn't that scary after all.
Regulus returned to his seat. Avery leaned over and whispered, "You're far too patient with him."
Regulus glanced at him. "Avery, do you know why on the Black family tapestry, next to the names that were burned away, there are often a few obscure ones left behind?"
Avery frowned. "…Because they're from branch families? Not important enough?"
"Because when the main line made foolish choices, it was the branches that preserved the bloodline," Regulus said evenly.
His gaze drifted across the room, as if selecting idiots at random. "And you can't guarantee the main line won't produce fools."
A few pure-bloods nearby snickered. The half-bloods and Muggle-borns looked over, puzzled by the laughter.
Avery fell silent.
"And besides," Regulus went on, his voice low but carrying just far enough, "thirty years from now, when we look back on Hogwarts, we won't only remember who made a feather fly the highest, or who flew the steadiest.
"We'll remember who sat beside us in class, who copied homework with us, who talked about dreams after lights-out."
The words drifted to Professor Flitwick as he passed.
The small professor paused. He looked up at Regulus, something flickering in his eyes. His mouth opened, as if to say something, then he simply tapped the lectern lightly with his wand.
"Best to write your own homework, Mr. Black."
The classroom erupted in laughter.