"I've heard of you!"
Professor Flitwick stood atop a stack of books behind his desk, peering curiously at the boy before him. Despite being one of the shortest professors at Hogwarts, his presence was never diminished. With keen eyes and an ever-curious mind, he was known for spotting talent where others overlooked it.
He gave Cedric a warm smile.
He is quite a handsome young man, Flitwick thought to himself.
Professor McGonagall had spoken highly of the boy's impressive talent for Transfiguration, and Professor Sprout had practically glowed while detailing his deep knowledge of medicinal herbs. But Flitwick, as the Charms Master of Hogwarts, was most interested in one thing:
How skilled are you with spellwork, Cedric Diggory?
Of course, both Snape and McGonagall had already noted Cedric's talent in Charms—but they weren't about to steal the spotlight from the Charms professor himself. Professors were territorial creatures, after all, each proud of their own domain.
"I've heard you're quite an exceptional young wizard," Flitwick began, leaning forward slightly. "Tell me, have you practiced any charms or spells ahead of time?"
Before Cedric could respond, a voice from the back of the classroom rang out.
"Professor! He's already mastered loads of spells!"
It was a Slytherin—eager, uninvited, and very loud.
A collective groan rippled through the Hufflepuffs. There it was again. Why did the Slytherins keep acting like Cedric was theirs?
"Oh?" Flitwick's eyes twinkled. "Well then! Let's see what you've got. For every spell you perform correctly, I'll award Hufflepuff one point!"
Cedric blinked in surprise.
"Really? That sounds… amazing!" he said, hardly able to contain his excitement.
He stepped forward, pulled out his wand with a practiced ease, and began to demonstrate the spells he had mastered—dozens of them, cast with precision and flair.
"Incendio!" A flick of flame burst to life before vanishing into smoke.
"Alohomora!" Click! The lock on Flitwick's drawer opened.
"Colloportus!" Snap! It sealed itself shut again.
"Scourgify! A neat cleaning charm—well-used, clearly."
"Lumos! and Nox!" The tip of his wand flared with light and faded.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" A feather on Flitwick's desk floated gently into the air, the pronunciation crisp and perfect.
Flitwick clapped his tiny hands together with glee. "Marvelous! Very tidy movements. Your endings are particularly graceful!"
But Cedric wasn't finished.
Without pause, he continued with an advanced series of spells: Flipendo, Sonorus, Molliare, Diffindo, Leg-Locker Curse, Aparecium, Langlock, Protego, and Finite Incantatem.
Fifteen spells in total—each cast flawlessly.
The classroom had fallen silent. A heavy kind of awe filled the air.
Most first-years were still learning to hold their wands properly. Cedric had not only read the entire first-year Charms textbook—he had practically mastered it.
And these weren't just beginner spells. Some were second-year level. Some were subtle enough that most students wouldn't attempt them until much later.
It was as if the rest of them were just lining up at the starting line—and Cedric was already halfway down the track.
Like everyone else was reading the menu… and Cedric was already wiping his mouth with a napkin.
"Incredible!" Flitwick's voice quivered with excitement. "Absolutely incredible! Fifteen points to Hufflepuff!"
He leapt down from his stack of books and scurried over to Cedric, his eyes gleaming with scholarly delight. From a distance, it looked like an excited badger examining a rare magical treasure.
To the rest of the class, Cedric's display had been dazzling—a series of bright lights and clever incantations. But to Professor Flitwick, a seasoned dueling master and expert spellcaster, it was something far more profound.
He had seen deeper.
Every spell Cedric cast had been clean, confident, and smooth. There were no wasted movements, no stuttering syllables, no flickers of unstable magic. The flow of power was precise and powerful.
Cedric had it all—power, control, clarity, efficiency, and accuracy.
Most young wizards might have two or three of those qualities if they were lucky.
Cedric had all five.
There was no doubt in Flitwick's mind: this boy had the perfect profile for a duelist. Like a raw gemstone waiting to be shaped and polished, Cedric shone with untapped potential.
Flitwick beamed.
"My boy," he said, gripping Cedric's arm with both hands, "have you ever considered competitive dueling?"
He asked cautiously—almost nervously.
After all, Hufflepuff students were not known for chasing glory. He half-feared Cedric might say, "Actually, I prefer Herbology and quiet walks."
But once again, Cedric didn't get a chance to answer.
A voice from the Slytherin side cut in with confidence:
"Of course he does! Cedric has a heart like a true Slytherin—always striving to win!"
Flitwick blinked in surprise.
What is going on with the Slytherins?
They weren't exactly known for cheering on Hufflepuff students. If anything, they were infamous for rivalry and subtle sabotage. But now… they sounded like fans. Enthusiastic ones.
The world had turned upside down.
"Are… are the Slytherins supporting a Hufflepuff?" Flitwick asked no one in particular, looking genuinely puzzled. "What's next? Gryffindors baking cookies for Ravenclaws?"
"Just ignore them, Professor," Cedric said with a chuckle, trying to redirect the conversation. "They've been… unusually enthusiastic today."
Flitwick chuckled too, shaking his head.
"Well, never mind. What matters is this—would you like to be part of the Hogwarts Dueling Club?"
Cedric's eyes lit up. "Yes, Professor! I'd love to learn more about dueling."
"Excellent! I can already tell you'll be an asset," Flitwick said, practically bouncing on his toes.
---
[System Notification: You have moved Professor Flitwick.]
[Reward: +1 Talent Point | Professor Flitwick's Template Card acquired.]
---
Cedric felt a surge of joy.
Another professor moved. Another card unlocked.
He didn't even need to check to know—Flitwick, master of precision and spellwork, was sure to offer incredible insight.
And Cedric had another reason to be excited.
Now that he'd gained Flitwick's trust and admiration, he could ask about something far more personal… something he hadn't dared bring up before.
After class, Cedric approached Flitwick's office. It was a cozy, scroll-filled chamber brimming with tiny enchanted objects. A miniature orchestra of quills floated through the air, writing symphonies in ink.
"Professor," Cedric said quietly, "may I ask you something unusual?"
"Of course, my boy," Flitwick said, looking up from a stack of parchment.
"It's about Squibs."
Flitwick's expression shifted—sharpened.
"I was wondering," Cedric continued, "if there might be a way to help them. If there's anything in charms or spellcasting that can… unlock something in them."
Flitwick was silent for a moment.
Then he smiled.
"Well," he said, eyes twinkl
ing again, "as a matter of fact—I do know a thing or two."
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