The Forbidden Four: Year One

Chapter Twelve - To See The Dead

Chapter Twelve - To See The Dead

     Harry had a love-hate relationship with charms.

Sometimes he loved it; there were many times where he had been taught things that were simple and small, yet very useful. But the other times, when he hated it, was when he was being bested at it by someone else. Harry was a competitive person by nature, something he got from both his mother and father, though he wouldn't say he was as extreme as James.

     "Now don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his desk and almost knocking the humongous pile of books clean off, squeaked out as he made a swishing motion with his chestnut wand.

Harry copied him, staring intensely at his feather and trying to will it into the air, but it barely even twitched. His attempts were useless, and he gave Castor -- who was sitting on the other side of the room with a bored look on his face and his head propped up on his cheek as he lazily levitated the feather -- the side eye.

     "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too -- never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest." Harry and Seamus -- his partner -- swished and flicked almost violently, and yet the feather still ceased to move. Harry, begining to feel the strings of frustration attaching to him, looked over at Seamus who just shrugged and then rebelliously poked his feather, hard. The fluff went up in flames, and Harry quickly took a hat sitting next to them and slammed it over the fire, looking up with a soft, embarrassed blush on his cheeks when he saw Professor Flitwick watching them in alarm.

Ron, at the table next to them, waved his long arms like the blades of a fan, and shouted "Wingardium Leviosa!" In command.

     Hermione looked less than pleased to be his partner.

She rolled up her sleeves and scoffed, "you're saying it wrong," she snapped. "It's Wing- gar -dium Levi- o -sa, make the 'gar' sound nice and long."

     "You do it then," he sniffed with a glare, "if you're do clever."

In spite, she rolled her eyes so hard that Harry thought they might roll right out of her head. Then she picked her wand up, gave it a swish and flick and said strongly, "Wingardium Leviosa!" The feather rose about four feet of the ground, and Professor Flitwick let out a loud "well done, Miss Granger!" as Ron sulked.

     It was safe to say that the Red-head was in a very bad mood by the end of class.

"It's no wonder no one can stand her," Ron had said to Harry as they walked out of class. "She's a nightmare!"

     Someone knocked into Harry's shoulder harshly, and he looked up, watching Hermione's retreating figure practically run away from them. "I think she heard you," Harry said. "So?" Ron looked uncomfortable, "she must've noticed she's got no friends."

Ron and Harry turned around when they heard someone say "move it," only to see Castor glaring right at them, his eyes venomous. Harry glared right back, while Ron took a moment before slowly moving out of the way.

     Castor walked away from them as the day turned to night, but instead of heading for the Great Hall, he headed to the Forbidden Forest.

~~~

Castor navigated his way through the thick trees and misty atmosphere, mud squelched under his boots and the wind blew cold and hard onto him. He had his wand out, muttering "lumos" under his breath. It took him a while to learn the spell, seeing as they were supposed to learn it in their third year, but he was determined to learn quickly, and the spells taught in first year were so utterly boring.