At Professor Sprout's strong recommendation, Owen took breakfast not in Flitwick's office, but in the Great Hall.
There, before all the professors, he skimmed along the floor for a moment, then explained honestly both the technique and his reasons for developing it.
The professors' expressions grew peculiar.
Raw magical output, using reactive force to lift oneself...
In the wizarding world, this would be considered pure foolishness. No wizard had ever complained of having too much magic.
But in Owen's case, it suddenly made sense, for they could all see that his magic was growing daily. If this continued, their greatest fear was not his power, but what might happen during a second outburst.
Should he explode, Hogwarts might be levelled.
Consuming magic deliberately to keep some kind of balance: this was surely unlike anything the world had ever seen.
"What have you all been teaching this child!"
McGonagall suddenly exploded, startling everyone. She reached out and pulled Owen into her arms. "He is still a child!"
Professor Sprout tilted her head. "I was only teaching him to handle various herbs."
Snape replied calmly. "He is learning ingredient preparation from me."
Only Flitwick rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. "I am teaching him wandless casting."
Silence fell over the Hall. Even the wind seemed to stop.
Even Dumbledore, who had been sitting with his eyes closed and a faint smile on his face, opened them wide. He could not believe what he had heard.
Owen was rather embarrassed, for he had not yet fully mastered wandless casting. Thus far, he could only perform two spells with it.
It was like a pre-school child being taught arithmetic and only getting as far as addition and subtraction, nowhere near multiplication and division. He had not announced this because... he was embarrassed.
Like a poor student ashamed to tell his parents how he was getting on.
"Lumos."
Under the professors' strange gazes, Owen turned his wrist, and a football-sized sphere of light appeared above his fingertip. But he was not finished. He pushed his hand upward. "Wingardium Leviosa."
The light rose, then flew and spun through the air at his will, brightening the Hall, which had been dim from the overcast sky outside.
A Light Charm and a Levitation Charm. But what shocked the professors was not the wandless casting itself, but his using the Levitation Charm to control the Light Charm. This was no longer simple wandless casting, but multiple casting.
After her surprise faded, McGonagall turned to Flitwick with a severe expression. How could he have taught such a dangerous technique to a wandless child?
But Flitwick was overjoyed. The boy's genius exceeded his wildest imaginings.
Because of this demonstration, Owen was forced to adjust his timetable once more. From that day, he had one more place to be.
His ground-skimming flight finally came into its own. His morning run shifted from five o'clock to four. Beyond eating, sleeping, studying, and reading, Owen's feet never touched the ground. High-speed low-altitude flight saved considerable time.
This intensive routine continued until term began. When the students returned, Owen's days suddenly eased, for he now attended classes with the first-years.
Because of his age, Owen was not a normal student. He had no wand, and had not been Sorted. The older students found him odd, but to the first-years he was a novelty, for they discovered Owen knew the castle well, though no one could work out which House he belonged to.
Owen did not participate in the Sorting Ceremony. Though he wore robes, they differed from the four House styles. His black robes were embroidered with golden runes, a gift from McGonagall, who had taken him to Diagon Alley before term.
The meticulous McGonagall had not wanted the boy to feel too different, but she did not realise this only made him more conspicuous.
Fortunately, Owen cared nothing for this. The more he learnt of magic, the more he realised how little he knew and how much remained to study.
Deaf to the outside world, he read only magical texts.
But trouble has a way of finding those who aren't looking for it. The Slytherin students had a particular arrogance about them, as most came from pure-blood families.
At first, they did not know Owen, assuming he might be some professor's relative. But when they heard he came from a Muggle family, a Mudblood, the way they looked at him changed.
But Owen never interacted with them, always seeming to have something to be getting on with. This led some to speculate he was not a student at all, but a worker like the house-elves, for a few had seen Owen helping the squib caretaker, Argus Filch, with cleaning.
On the same level as house-elves...
When this notion spread through Slytherin House, more and more young snakes found Owen increasingly irritating. Particularly the first-years, who felt that sharing classes with him was beneath them.
It is remarkable how focused people become when they set their minds to causing trouble.
They spent a week without discovering where Owen lived, but they mapped his schedule. It happened by chance: a first-year, having eaten something that disagreed with him, got up to use the lavatory and spotted Owen on his morning run.
And so it came out that Owen was up at four, running laps of the castle.
Four in the morning...
This alone nearly made half the Slytherins abandon their plan. Was he mad? Running in the dead of night?
But a few among them were made of sterner stuff. One actually got up at four and secretly followed Owen for a full circuit. What he found left his legs unsteady.
For Owen's running time had grown shorter, but he had not adjusted his schedule. He simply used half the time for running, and half for boxing.
He finished his run by four-thirty, then made his way to the forest edge, picked out a thick tree, and practised boxing.
//===================//