Chapter 26: Wingardium Leviosa

No matter the reason, increased time spent together inevitably shifts relationships in subtle ways. Some grow closer—like Wade and his SSC companions. Others grow more antagonistic—like Potter and Malfoy, whose constant bickering had become a staple of Hogwarts life.

Evening came, and Wade and Michael once again slipped back into the Ravenclaw Common Room just before Curfew. The moment they stepped inside, Michael was called away by two girls—tomorrow was Halloween, and the Common Room was buzzing with a small, festive gathering. Michael, one of the few first-years invited, was clearly excited.

During the Hogsmeade Weekend, older students had bought plenty of Butterbeer, Rum, and Whiskey, and now the air was thick with a pleasantly intoxicating haze. Michael tried to pull Wade into the party, but he waved him off with a quiet shake of his head.

Wade had never been fond of such gatherings. He’d once seen two students who barely knew each other passionately kiss on the sofa after drinking too much—surrounded by cheering classmates, beer flying everywhere, the whole scene dripping with reckless abandon.

Though Wade had lived in the West for eleven years, his inner thoughts remained reserved and cautious. When it came to emotions and physical contact, he was far more deliberate than most of his peers.

He climbed the Spiral Staircase to the Dormitory, where everything was as immaculate as ever. His clothes, changed the day before, had been washed, ironed, and neatly folded in the wardrobe. On his desk sat a kettle of Boiling Water, steaming faintly. He poured himself a cup—just the right temperature.

At Hogwarts’ Long Table, students usually drank only Juice, Vegetable Juice, or hot Chocolate. Most drank straight from the tap. Wade wasn’t used to that. A few weeks earlier, he’d left a note on his dirty laundry, asking if he could have hot water when he returned to the Dormitory.

The next morning, he found a steaming cup of Black Tea waiting on his desk. The house-elf, perhaps misunderstanding “hot water,” had assumed tea was what he wanted—after all, no one had ever asked for plain boiled water before.

So Wade added a second note:

Thank you for the Black Tea. But I’d prefer plain water boiled fresh—no tea leaves.

From that day on, no matter when he returned, a cup of perfectly hot water awaited him. And every morning, the same was true.

It had to be said—Hogwarts’ comfort, at least half of it, came from the house-elves.

Before bed, Wade placed three miniature Pumpkin Carriages on his table—crafted with Transfiguration. Each had a tiny lantern the size of a pea hanging from the front, glowing with a soft, emerald light.

To: Zoe, Fell, Habi

Thank you for your thoughtful service all this time. This is my Halloween gift to you.

Happy Halloween!

…

The next morning, it was Halloween. The entire castle smelled of roasting pumpkins. His desk was empty of the carriages, replaced instead by a fresh kettle of hot water, a plate of Pumpkin Cookies, a small bouquet of flowers still glistening with dew, and a pile of beautifully smooth, colorful small stones.

The heart-shaped cookies smelled heavenly. The flowers looked fresh, untouched. The pebble-sized stones gleamed like gems—each a carefully chosen token of gratitude from the elves.

Wade couldn’t help but smile.

He didn’t think their gifts were cheap. The house-elves were part of Hogwarts—beyond their tea towels, they owned nothing. Even the tea towels were Hogwarts’ property.

Halloween wasn’t a holiday, of course. The morning began with Charms class. Professor Flitwick paired students into twos to practice Wingardium Leviosa. Wade was matched with Anthony Goldstein.

“Don’t forget that subtle wrist motion we’ve been drilling!” Professor Flitwick chirped. “A flick, a shake! Remember—flick and shake! And of course, the incantation must be precise—don’t forget Barufio the Wizard, who said ‘f’ as ‘s’ and ended up flat on his back with a bull standing on his chest! Now—begin!”

Students began chanting in unison:

“Wingardium Leviosa!”

The feather in front of Wade lifted instantly—something he’d practiced countless times in the Umbrella Room, mostly to move tables and chairs. Hermione and Michael followed soon after, both succeeding. Professor Flitwick clapped excitedly. “Excellent! Two points each—well done!”

Then came something even more astonishing.

Neville’s feather trembled, wobbled, then rose—shakily—two feet above his head, swaying like a boat in rough seas.

The Gryffindors nearly fell out of their seats. Neville was notoriously clumsy in every class, and Professor Sprout was the only one who ever praised him. Wingardium Leviosa was notoriously difficult for young wizards, and most feathers still lay motionless on their desks. To see Neville succeed—even poorly—was like watching a Giant attempt ballet.

“Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant, Mr. Longbottom!” Professor Flitwick squeaked, jumping in excitement. “Gryffindor gains five points!”

“Wait—Longbottom actually did it?” Wade heard Anthony mutter, stunned. He tried again and again, but the feather didn’t budge.

Anthony was a large, strong boy. His pronunciation was fine—but the delicate, precise flick-and-shake motion was beyond him. His wand movements grew more exaggerated, more erratic.

“Wait!” Wade noticed Anthony’s wand nearly jabbing into the back of the student in front. He reached out and grabbed Anthony’s wrist. “Try this—”

He drew a sharp, sine-wave-like curve on a scrap of parchment, marked the direction with arrows, and enlarged the image so it floated before Anthony’s eyes.

“Move your wand along this line—don’t go beyond the edges.”

Anthony didn’t question it. As a Ravenclaw, he knew Wade’s magical skill was unmatched in their year.

The golden-haired boy silently practiced the motion a few times, then raised his wand.

“Wingardium Leviosa!”

The feather lifted immediately, rising higher and higher under Anthony’s control—so high it brushed the chandelier above.

Anthony stared in wonder, reluctant to lower his wand.

Terry Boot and Lavender Brown glanced at each other—then both reached out. Lavender, quicker and more agile, snatched the parchment and pulled it toward her group.

“Wingardium Leviosa!”

On the other side of the classroom, more feathers began to rise. Professor Flitwick noticed the sudden surge of success.

Just as Lisha Dupin reached for the parchment, a tiny hand shot out from below and snatched it away.

Professor Flitwick glanced at it, then smiled.

“Oh, quite clever guidance technique—”

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end