Quirks in Wizarding World

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- Hogwarts Castle -

- September 3, 1991 -

The rest of the day passed in a steady rhythm. Arthav moved through his schedule with quiet efficiency, balancing classes, study sessions, and moments of camaraderie with his friends. By the time night fell, he found himself on the astronomy tower, observing the sky with quiet fascination as Professor Sinistra lectured about celestial movements. There was something grounding about looking at the vast cosmos, even as he remained focused on the unfolding events within Hogwarts.

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- September 4, 1991 -

The next day brought one of the more anticipated subjects—Defense Against the Dark Arts. Despite the excitement in the air, Arthav kept his expectations low. He knew what to expect from Professor Quirrell.

The classroom was dimly lit, the faint scent of garlic lingering unpleasantly. Quirrell stood at the front, wringing his hands as he looked at the assembled students. His eyes darted around nervously, and his mouth opened and closed before he finally spoke.

"W-w-welcome to D-Defense Against the D-dark Arts," he stuttered, his voice barely carrying over the room. "T-today, we w-will… discuss the b-b-basics of counterspells."

A few students exchanged glances. It was immediately clear that this class would not be the engaging, hands-on learning experience many had hoped for. The lecture was painfully slow, punctuated by long pauses as Quirrell stumbled through his words. Even the simplest concepts were dragged out, making it difficult for anyone to stay focused.

Arthav, however, was more observant than most. He could see the act for what it was. The nervousness, the incompetence—it was a carefully crafted façade. He knew exactly who had told Quirrell to behave this way. More than that, he could sense it. Dark magic clung to him, a shadowy presence lingering just beneath the surface. Arthav made sure not to stare too long, unwilling to draw any unwanted attention. The time to confront Voldemort would come, but not yet.

Frustrated murmurs grew among the students as Quirrell failed to explain the practical applications of spellwork. Deciding to take matters into his own hands, Arthav leaned toward his friends.

"We're not going to learn much if we wait for him to teach us," he whispered. "Let's go through the basics ourselves."

Padma, Terry, and Anthony nodded in agreement. They had already noticed Arthav's natural grasp of magic, and if anyone could guide them, it was him. At first, they kept their voices low, but soon, their quiet discussion gained the attention of others.

Parvati Patil, who was sitting with the Gryffindors, turned toward them. "Padma, you weren't kidding," she said with a grin. "You've been talking about him so much I had to see for myself."

Padma rolled her eyes but smiled. "If I'm going to talk about someone, it's going to be someone worth talking about."

Parvati, ever the social butterfly, quickly joined in, along with a few curious Gryffindors who wanted a better understanding of the spells. Despite the lack of proper instruction, the group worked together, experimenting with counterspells and refining their technique under Arthav's guidance. What started as a frustrating class turned into a productive session, filled with whispered explanations and quiet triumphs.

By the time the lesson ended, Quirrell seemed oblivious to the fact that his students had taught themselves more than he had. He dismissed them with a nervous nod, his hands still twitching slightly as he gathered his things. Arthav, watching him carefully, remained silent. There was no need to rush into anything.

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That night, the second Astronomy lesson brought a welcome change of pace. The open sky stretched endlessly above them as Professor Sinistra guided them through their charts. Arthav found solace in the quiet hum of the night, the constellations above reminding him how vast and mysterious the universe truly was.

As he sketched notes on planetary alignments, Parvati nudged him with a playful grin. "You really are full of surprises, aren't you?"

Arthav smirked slightly. "I try."

Padma, sitting beside them, shook her head with amusement. "Don't let it go to your head."

The banter between the group continued, and by the time the lesson ended, Parvati had firmly cemented herself as a new friend. Her cheerful nature added a lightness to their discussions, balancing out Padma's measured intellect and Terry's endless curiosity.

As they descended from the tower, Arthav glanced back at the night sky one last time. There was something comforting about it. No matter how much the world shifted and secrets lurked in the shadows, the stars remained constant.

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- September 4, 1991 – Midnight -

That night, after dinner, Arthav returned to his room and waited patiently for the others to drift into sleep. The castle settled into its usual nighttime hush, the distant sounds of the lake and the occasional hoot of an owl filling the air. As the time neared midnight, he sat up in his bed, carefully reaching for his wand.

Over the past few days at Hogwarts, he had been scouring the vast collection of books in the Ravenclaw common room, searching for spells that could give him an edge. One, in particular, had caught his attention—a Disillusionment Charm. Unlike a true invisibility spell or the invisibility cloak, it bent light in such a way that anyone not looking carefully would perceive him as part of the surroundings. It was an advanced piece of magic, rarely found in the standard Hogwarts curriculum, yet he had discovered it tucked away in a forgotten corner of the Ravenclaw bookshelf.

He had practiced It multiple times, refining the delicate balance needed to maintain the illusion without disrupting his own movement. Now was the time to put it to real use. Whispering the incantation, he felt a cool sensation wash over him as the spell took effect, his form blending seamlessly into the dimly lit dormitory.

Silently, he slipped out of bed and made his way through the common room, ensuring his footsteps made no sound against the stone floor. He had spent only a few days at Hogwarts, but in that time, he had already met and bonded with many—including Harry. He knew what was coming soon, the challenges that lay ahead. Learning spells from books alone would not be enough. If he truly wanted to be prepared, he needed more than just theory; he needed practical experience, real dueling practice.

And he knew just the place for it.

The Room of Requirement.

Moving carefully through the empty corridors, Arthav kept his pace steady, glancing around every few turns to ensure no one was watching. With the castle quiet and the spell masking his presence, he made his way toward the hidden chamber, determined to sharpen his skills in secret before the true trials ahead began.

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Arthav moved swiftly through the dim corridors, careful to avoid any late-night wanderers or patrolling prefects. The disillusionment spell was strong, making him blend into the surroundings, but he still kept his movements measured. The castle was vast, but he had studied its layout enough to know exactly where he was going.

Upon reaching the seventh floor, he slowed his pace, scanning the stone walls until his gaze landed on the familiar portrait of Barnabas the Barmy. The eccentric wizard flailed about, attempting to teach trolls ballet, their massive forms stomping wildly in what barely resembled coordinated movement.

Arthav took a steady breath and began pacing back and forth in front of the empty stretch of wall. His mind focused sharply on what he needed. "A place to practice magic. A space to train in dueling. A room with everything I need to sharpen my skills."

One step. Two steps. Three.

With a quiet shift of stone and a faint hum of magic, a door materialized where there had been none before. Its ancient wood gleamed in the dim torchlight. Without hesitation, Arthav grasped the handle and stepped inside.

The sight before him was nothing short of perfect. The Room of Requirement had provided exactly what he had envisioned. The space was vast, its stone walls lined with shelves filled with tomes on advanced spellwork, dueling techniques, and magical theory. Training dummies stood at the far end, enchanted to react to spells like real opponents. Several target boards floated nearby, perfect for honing precision. Even a well-maintained dueling platform stretched across one side, complete with protective wards shimmering faintly around it.

Arthav exhaled, taking it all in. This was it. This was where he would prepare for what was to come. Hogwarts' curriculum was useful, but it wouldn't be enough—not for him, not for what lay ahead. He needed to be better, faster, stronger. He wasn't about to rely on fate alone.

Stepping forward, he reached for one of the books on the nearest shelf, his mind already calculating where to begin.

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