Chapter 12: Scourgify

“You asked Professor Sprout?” Michael said, surprised. “After taking Professor Snape’s class, you still dare to ask a professor for permission?”

Theo chuckled. “Professor Sprout’s different. She’s especially kind. And honestly, I think it’s better to ask first rather than sneak around. Practicing spells isn’t a bad thing, after all.”

“Then what happened?” Wade asked. “Did she give us a place?”

“Exactly,” Theo nodded. “An abandoned classroom. Professor Sprout said it would definitely meet our needs.”

“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go! Let’s check it out!” Michael said cheerfully—he’d had enough of the suffocating silence in the library.

Wade was about to step forward when he paused, glancing back.

In the vast library, Hermione sat alone, head bent over a book, looking oddly isolated.

Wade remembered—this time of day, she usually had no one by her side.

“Wait a moment,” he said to the others. “I’m going to bring someone else.”

He tapped the table twice gently. Hermione looked up, and saw Wade smiling at her.

“Hermione,” he said, “we’re heading out to practice spells. Want to join us?”

…

“Hogwarts was the first magic school established,” Theo panted as they climbed the stairs. “A long time ago, nearly all underage witches and wizards across Europe studied here. But later, other magical schools were founded, and many witches and wizards moved to America—where their children now attend Ilvermorny.”

“So Hogwarts used to accommodate a thousand or more students and over a hundred professors,” Liam added. “Now there are only about two or three hundred students. Most classrooms are empty. For safety, the school has hidden most of the unused ones.”

“Professor Sprout told us about one unused Charms classroom,” he continued. “It should be spacious. On the third floor, behind the portrait of Miss Claudia, the woman with the umbrella.”

After a few minutes of searching down the corridor, they finally found the portrait—on the side near the West Tower.

—In a sun-dappled meadow filled with wildflowers, a golden-haired girl stood beneath a white umbrella adorned with pink blossoms. She gazed wistfully into the distance, her profile turned slightly away from them.

Liam tapped the portrait three times on the left with his wand and spoke the password:

“Sunlight, Black-Eyed Susan.”

The girl lifted her dress and stepped aside. The portrait swung open, and they filed inside one by one. As it closed behind them, the girl turned and resumed her position, the umbrella now facing forward. Rain began to fall softly within the portrait’s frame.

The classroom had clearly been unused for years. A thick layer of dust covered the floor. Tables and chairs were scattered haphazardly, and old books and discarded parchments lay scattered across the ground. Along the wall stood a row of wooden shelves—empty, and some even broken. In one corner stood broken practice dummies used for spellwork, most of them in poor shape.

“Well,” Hermione said, rolling up her sleeves, “we’ll need to clean this place before we start practicing.”

“Who’s going to fetch some water?” she asked.

“I will!” Theo raised his hand immediately. “I’ll go find some cleaning supplies first.”

“Why don’t we just ask the house-elves to clean it for us?” Michael drawled lazily. “You know, Hogwarts has a whole house-elf staff, right?”

Liam was already crouched, lifting a toppled chair.

“Hold on, everyone,” Wade said, stopping Theo from leaving. He turned to the others. “We came here to practice magic. Why not start by cleaning this room?”

“What? No way!” Michael stared at him in disbelief.

“Scourgify,” Wade said, looking at Liam. “And Reparo. Start with those two spells. Moving furniture? Only Wingardium Leviosa will do.”

“Fine,” Theo grinned. “It’s going to be a big job—but sounds fun!”

Liam paused, then deliberately knocked the chair he’d just fixed back down. He raised his wand.

“Scourgify!”

The table cleaned up slightly—but grime still clung stubbornly in the cracks.

Wade blinked.

“Liam, try that again,” he said.

Liam repeated the spell. The effect was barely noticeable.

This time, Wade saw it clearly—the faint outline of another arc, overlapping the first. Similar, yet different. It was like a second, invisible path woven into the spell’s execution. That was why the spell wasn’t working properly.

It was as if, in a game, a cheat code had calculated the perfect trajectory and attack angle for him—only he could see it.

“Liam,” Wade said, demonstrating, “raise your wand just a bit higher. And finish the motion more decisively. Also, the ‘gi’ in Scourgify should be lighter, almost whispered. Try again.”

Liam paused—perhaps because Hufflepuffs naturally trusted Ravenclaw minds, he didn’t question it. He simply followed Wade’s adjustments and cast the spell once more:

“Scourgify!”

The table instantly sparkled, so clean it looked like no insect could land on it. Even the floor beneath it seemed freshly scrubbed.

Liam stared, wide-eyed, at his wand, then at Wade. “How… how did you do that?”

The others reacted the same way, crowding around the table. Theo even bent down to touch it with his fingers, marveling.

“Liam! I had no idea—you’re a spell genius!”

“No—no, it’s not because of me—” Liam stammered, confused. He tried again, but his excitement threw off his focus. The result was worse than before.

Wade said nothing. He cast the spell himself—yet he saw no extra arc. Just like how his eyes could see the names above others’ heads, but never his own.

But the experience of guiding Liam made it clear to him what a correct spell looked like. His own casting was flawless, and the cleaning effect spread farther than Liam’s.

Wade thought for a moment, then had everyone else try the cleaning spell. Sure enough, he saw the fine golden arcs—each one slightly different, each one revealing flaws in their technique. Even Hermione’s spell wasn’t perfect—though it was closer to the standard than the others’.

He corrected them one by one, guiding each to refine their casting. In doing so, his own understanding deepened. Soon, he could cast Scourgify with a mere flick of his wand—no incantation needed.

If his Unique Ability had a name, Wade would call it something like The Good Teacher System—a silent observer that could instantly identify who was paying attention, who was faking it, and how to adjust each student’s technique for maximum efficiency.

It could even analyze multiple spellcasters at once, pinpointing the exact moment someone faltered.

But his Unique Ability remained silent. He didn’t know what other powers it might hold—only that he’d need time to uncover them.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end