"Hmm... I guess so." Harry wasn't sure if finding Leonard to check his blood counted as something urgent, but he really didn't want to waste any time.
"Thank you, Mr. Macmillan. I'll be going now," Harry said.
"No need for formalities—just call me Ernie," Ernie replied with a friendly wave, warmly watching Harry leave.
For some reason, Harry suddenly felt a strange sense of familiarity. The way Ernie looked at him—it was oddly similar to the way he looked at Leonard.
Weird. The thought made him feel strangely uncomfortable, even a bit awkward.
Was this how Leonard felt whenever Harry looked at him like that?
...
Harry soon found the office of Professor Flitwick, the Charms professor.
He knocked politely, and within moments the door opened from the inside. The small professor looked up, surprise flashing across his face when he saw who it was. "Mr. Potter—what an unexpected visitor! Is there something you needed?"
That tone alone made Harry blush slightly.
He'd never actually gone to a professor for help before, and judging by Professor Flitwick's astonished reaction, it showed. What made it worse was that Harry wasn't here to ask a question at all—he was just looking for someone.
"Sorry, Professor," Harry said apologetically. "I came to find Leonard. His roommate said he was here to see you."
"That's right, he's here," Professor Flitwick said with a cheerful smile, not seeming the least bit bothered. "Come in—but don't disturb Leonard. He's concentrating deeply on his magic right now."
"Studying magic? Is there really anything Leonard doesn't already know?" Harry blurted out.
"That's not the right way to think, Mr. Potter," Flitwick said seriously. "No matter how clever a person is, knowledge doesn't simply walk into their head. Especially with magic—without hard work and practice, one can't hope to truly master it."
Harry blushed again. Thinking of Leonard's focused attitude in the library, then comparing it to his own habits, he couldn't help realizing how much he still lacked.
It was all Ron Weasley's fault. Sharing a dorm with him had made Harry too comfortable with Ron's easygoing version of school life. It had rubbed off on both him and Neville.
Whenever they went to the library, Ron would spot them playing wizard chess in the Gryffindor common room and tease them with knowing looks and sarcastic comments.
It had gotten to the point where they actually started dreading trips to the library—something that really shouldn't have happened.
He couldn't let someone else's laziness affect him. He had to get it together!
It was time to start taking his studies seriously. But unlike Leonard, he couldn't leave all his homework until the weekend—he didn't have that kind of efficiency or skill. He'd have to finish his work day by day instead.
Resolved, Harry followed Professor Flitwick into the office, where he saw Leonard sitting at a desk, eyes fixed intently on a teacup in front of him.
What on earth is he doing?
Harry shot the professor a questioning look, but Flitwick simply raised a finger to his lips, signaling him to stay silent.
Though full of curiosity, Harry forced himself to wait patiently, unsure of what was supposed to happen.
Time ticked by, slowly eroding his patience. He glanced between Leonard and the professor—Flitwick's expression was solemn, while Harry fidgeted restlessly.
How long was this going to take? What exactly was Leonard trying to do?
Just as he was about to whisper a question, Leonard suddenly straightened in his seat. Harry's attention snapped to him.
Leonard didn't move otherwise, but then Harry noticed something shift. The teacup on the table began to lift off the surface—slowly, steadily.
It was floating.
The teacup was floating in the air without anyone touching it!
Was this some kind of trick? The thought barely crossed Harry's mind before he dismissed it.
This was the wizarding world—real magic was everywhere. No trick could compare to this.
But what kind of spell was it? How could the cup float without a wand, without a single incantation? How was Leonard doing it?
Instinctively, Harry turned to look at Professor Flitwick, expecting he might be the one behind it. But to his surprise, the professor was holding his breath, watching Leonard intently—as though even the slightest sound might disturb him.
The teacup wobbled lightly in the air, then drifted gently back down. The moment it touched the table, Flitwick clapped his hands and cheered, "Excellent, Leonard! You did it!"
Harry had never seen the professor so excited before.
It wasn't that Professor Flitwick didn't smile—on the contrary, he was almost always cheerful. Even when things went wrong, like when Neville's wild wand swing sent him flying into a wall or when Seamus Finnigan's spell misfired, he'd take it in stride. But this was different—he was genuinely thrilled.
That only made Harry even more curious. He badly wanted to know what kind of magic could make a teacup float on its own like that.
...
"Professor Flitwick, what kind of magic was that just now?" Harry asked curiously.
Harry's voice snapped Leonard out of his excitement. He turned to look at Harry, surprised. "Harry? When did you get here?"
"For a while now. But the professor told me not to interrupt you," Harry replied, glancing at Professor Flitwick expectantly.
"Oh, Mr. Potter, that was just the most basic Levitation Charm," Professor Flitwick said, his face still glowing with excitement. "Compared to the Mending Charm you're learning now, it's nothing remarkable. The real focus isn't on the spell itself—it's on the way it was cast."
"The way it was cast?" Harry asked, curiosity piqued, turning back to Leonard.
Leonard gave Harry a brief glance. He could tell the Chosen One's curiosity was kicking in, and before Harry's endless questions could bring him trouble, he answered directly, "It's a combination of nonverbal casting and wandless magic."
"What are nonverbal casting and wandless magic?" Harry asked, a little embarrassed.
He couldn't help feeling like an ignorant fool in front of Leonard.
"Pretty much what the words mean," Leonard said simply. "It's casting magic without using a wand or speaking an incantation."
"No wand? No incantation?" Harry repeated, his voice rising in disbelief.
It went completely against everything he knew. To him, magic had always been about wands and spells—how could it work without either?