Quirks in Wizarding World

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- Hogwarts Castle -

- September 2, 1991-

Arthav woke early, the faint glow of dawn filtering through his window. The castle was quiet, save for the occasional hoot of an owl outside. He sat up, stretched, and got ready for the day. His uniform was neatly folded on the chair beside his desk, and his wand rested exactly where he had left it the night before. After a quick wash, he dressed, straightened his tie, and made his way down the spiral staircase to the common room.

A few other first-years were already there, looking just as eager for the day ahead. Padma Patil, Terry Boot, and Anthony Goldstein greeted him as he joined them by the entrance.

"Ready for the first day?" Terry asked, adjusting his robes.

"As ready as I can be," Arthav replied, suppressing a yawn.

The four of them made their way through the castle, descending the marble staircase toward the Great Hall. The scent of fresh bread and roasted sausages filled the air as they entered. The enchanted ceiling mirrored the early morning sky—soft hues of pink and orange stretching across the vast chamber.

Taking their seats at the Ravenclaw table, they helped themselves to breakfast. Arthav poured himself some pumpkin juice while Padma grabbed a plate of toast.

"First class is Charms," Anthony reminded them, checking his schedule. "With the Slytherins. That should be… interesting."

Padma made a face. "I just hope they don't start anything on the first day."

Arthav remained quiet, though he had similar thoughts. He wasn't worried about them—just aware of how predictable their disdain could be.

Once breakfast was done, the four gathered their bags and joined the line of students heading toward the Charms classroom on the third floor. The corridors were alive with chatter as students navigated their way to lessons. Soon, they reached the classroom, where Professor Flitwick was waiting, perched atop a stack of books on his desk.

"Ah, welcome, welcome!" he greeted as the students filed in. "Take your seats, quickly now!"

Arthav and his friends took spots near the front. The Slytherins settled in at the opposite end of the room, already whispering among themselves.

Flitwick clapped his hands. "Today, we begin with one of the most fundamental spells—a simple Levitation Charm. Now, remember, precise wand movements and clear enunciation are key. Watch carefully."

With a flick of his tiny wand, the feather in front of him lifted gracefully into the air.

"Now, your turn! Swish and flick, and don't forget to say, 'Wingardium Leviosa!'"

The classroom filled with the sound of students practicing, their voices ranging from confident to uncertain. Some feathers wobbled, some barely moved, and others shot up wildly before dropping back down.

Arthav focused on his own. With a smooth movement and a steady voice, he cast the spell. The feather lifted instantly, floating in perfect control. Flitwick turned, his eyes lighting up.

"Well done, Mr. Nair! Excellent form!"

The Slytherins scowled. A few muttered under their breaths, unimpressed or annoyed. Padma grinned at Arthav. "That was brilliant!"

Arthav nodded, lowering his wand. He had already completed three years' worth of the Hogwarts syllabus in advance, so this was effortless. If he wanted to make a strong impression on the professors, he needed to do more.

He took a breath and concentrated. The feather rose again—but this time, without a single movement of his wand.

Gasps echoed through the room.

Flitwick's mouth fell open for a moment before he clapped excitedly. "Extraordinary! Wandless magic at this level, at your age—remarkable! Five points to Ravenclaw!"

The Ravenclaws beamed, while the Slytherins looked even less pleased. One of them, a blond boy, scoffed. "He probably just got lucky."

"Jealous already, Malfoy?" Terry muttered under his breath.

Padma, Anthony, and Terry were quick to surround Arthav once class ended. "You have to teach us that!" Padma insisted. "Wandless magic? That's incredible."

Arthav chuckled. "It's mostly about control. I can show you, but it takes practice."

As they left the classroom, Flitwick gave him an approving nod. "Keep up the excellent work, Mr. Nair. I expect great things from you."

Arthav nodded back, feeling a quiet satisfaction settle within him. The day had only just begun, but already, he had made an impression.

That was precisely his intent.

He wasn't showing off just for the sake of it. No, he actually wanted access to the Forbidden Library. Dumbledore would not take kindly to anyone attempting to access it without permission. The headmaster, who had seen the rise of Voldemort and had once fought Grindelwald—a man he had a deep connection with—was not the kind to grant special privileges lightly, especially not to an ordinary student. Harry had the weight of a prophecy behind him, a preordained fate that made exceptions possible. Arthav had no such thing. His way forward had to be carved through sheer excellence.

The Forbidden Library held the kind of knowledge that could change his understanding of magic entirely. While the standard library had its fair share of advanced texts, the real treasures lay behind the restrictions. Countless tomes on ancient magics—things forgotten or deemed too dangerous—rested on those forbidden shelves. He had no intention of delving into dark magic. It was powerful, yes, but not the kind of power he sought. Dark magic came with a cost—one that required sacrificing one's soul and body. He wasn't interested in corruption. Ancient magic, on the other hand, was different. Older than the classifications of light and dark, untouched by the moral debates of modern wizardry.

If he wanted to reach that knowledge, he had to earn the trust of the professors, especially Dumbledore. That meant proving he was not only extraordinarily talented but also firmly on the side of good. Let them be impressed. Let them see him as a prodigy worth investing in. The attention didn't bother him—he would have drawn it anyway. Between his magical abilities and his mutation, it was inevitable. Better to control the narrative from the start.

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At some point, as the class continued, Professor Flitwick, still beaming from Arthav's display, clapped his hands together. "Excellent, Mr. Nair! You have a natural gift for Charms. Since you seem to have mastered the Levitation Charm already, would you mind helping your classmates refine their technique?"

Arthav nodded. "Of course, Professor."

Flitwick turned to the rest of the class. "Now, remember, swish and flick! And pronounce it clearly—Wingardium Leviosa!"

Moving around the room, Arthav started with the Ravenclaws, giving small pointers to Padma, Terry, and Anthony. They listened attentively, eager to improve. Padma, after a few more tries, finally got her feather to hover steadily. She grinned at him. "That actually helped. You make it look easy."

Anthony and Terry managed to get theirs floating as well, though wobbly at first. Terry gave an exaggerated sigh of relief. "Maybe I won't completely embarrass myself in this class."

Arthav chuckled, then made his way toward the Slytherins. Not that he expected a warm welcome, but Flitwick had asked him to help everyone.

Draco Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, barely looked up as he approached. His feather lay still on the desk, untouched. "What do you want?" Malfoy sneered.

"Professor asked me to help," Arthav replied evenly.

Malfoy scoffed. "I don't need help, especially not from some show-off."

Arthav held back a sigh. "Suit yourself."

He moved on to another group of Slytherins, only to be met with similar reactions. Some ignored him outright, others gave dismissive remarks, acting as if accepting his help would somehow tarnish their superiority. A few of them weren't even managing to lift the feather, but they still refused to acknowledge him.

Out of Flitwick's sight, Malfoy smirked. "Let's get one thing straight, Nair. You might think you're special, but you'll never be above us."

Crabbe and Goyle gave gruff chuckles, but Arthav wasn't fazed. He met Malfoy's gaze, his expression unreadable. "We'll see."

With that, he turned away, returning to the Ravenclaws, who actually wanted to learn. It was clear he wouldn't win any favor with the Slytherins, but that didn't matter. His goal wasn't their approval—it was to stand out where it truly mattered.

At the front of the classroom, Flitwick clapped again. "Well done, everyone! A strong start to the year. Keep practicing, and soon you'll be able to levitate more than just feathers!"

As the students packed up, Padma nudged Arthav. "Slytherins gave you trouble, didn't they?"

"Nothing unexpected," he said with a small shrug.

Terry smirked. "They're just bitter. Let them sulk."

Arthav nodded. He wasn't worried about their opinions.

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