Before Char had even finished speaking, Liz let out a squeal of pure excitement.
"The young master has a job for Liz! He said he needs my help! Liz is needed!"
Char had to cut her off quickly before her excitement carried on for the better part of an hour. As Liz watched him with eager, oversized eyes, he explained what he needed.
"I want you to help me with combat practice."
The moment the words left his mouth, Liz's face filled with fear.
"Actual combat? Oh, no, I can't do that! How could Liz fight with the young master?"
But Char's expression was serious. "Liz, this is an order. A house-elf can't disobey their master, can they?"
He softened his tone slightly. "Besides, it's not a real fight. You won't hurt me. Just think of it as a game. Whoever can't react in time gets hung upside down. How about it?"
Liz nodded timidly. "Alright. Yes, Liz must obey the young master's orders."
The next moment, Char drew his wand, his expression turning grave. Having read the original stories, he knew better than to ever underestimate a house-elf.
"So, Liz," he said. "Let's begin. Use your best spells, or I'll fire you and you'll become a disgraced house-elf."
At the word "fired," Liz let out a shriek of terror.
"Fired? No, no, no! Liz can't lose her job!"
All her hesitation vanished. She snapped her fingers, and before Char could even dodge, he felt that familiar dizzying sensation. He was hanging upside down again.
Liz gasped and quickly snapped her fingers to release him. Just as she was about to burst into tears and confess her sins, Char took a deep breath, his face filled with excitement.
"Keep going, Liz! You did a great job. You're a very loyal house-elf, and this helps me a lot. Bring it on!"
Liz breathed a sigh of relief.
What followed was a relentless series of snaps from Liz's fingers. Char tried to dodge again and again, focusing on what Snape had taught him: to feel the fluctuations of magic and respond accordingly. But while Liz might not have been as powerful as Snape, her magical fluctuations were far more subtle, as if the magic was a part of her very being. Often, before Char even registered the shift in energy, he was already caught by an invisible force and hoisted into the air.
Yet, being lifted time and time again only made him more thrilled. The training was even more effective than his sessions with Snape. If he kept this up, he was sure he'd make a real breakthrough by the end of the Christmas holiday.
With intense focus, Char devoted himself to sensing the magic with every snap of Liz's fingers. He only called a halt when Liz was panting, completely exhausted.
"Take a break," he said. "We'll continue after you've rested."
Hearing this, Liz, who was nearly drained, didn't complain. Instead, she was ecstatic. House-elves were born to take pride in endless work; the busier they were, the happier they felt. Right now, Liz felt like she was about to burst with joy. Her eyes turned red again as she choked back sobs.
"Liz is so lucky to have met the young master. My young master will surely become a wizard whose name will be remembered in history. Wu-wu-wu…"
Char felt a headache coming on. House-elves were great in every way, but their tendency to get overly excited and cry was something he could never get used to.
"Never mind," he said. "Break's canceled."
Liz froze for a moment, then let out another shriek of joy.
At the same time, in the Sprout family study, Professor Sprout sat hunched over her desk, her face etched with fatigue. The tip of her quill scratched against parchment, each line of text written with painstaking effort. With her standing in the herbology community, getting published in a top journal was a simple matter. She didn't need to exhaust herself like this. But this paper was Char's stepping stone into the academic world, and she was determined to make it perfect. She was even more focused than she had been when submitting her very first paper, weighing every word, striving for perfection.
From day to night, the sound of snapping fingers echoed from the greenhouse, while the scratching of a quill filled the study. Time in the Sprout household seemed to fly by.
A week passed in the blink of an eye.
In the greenhouse, Liz was snapping her fingers in a rapid, continuous rhythm. Char moved with fluid grace, dodging one invisible magical force after another. He evaded seven consecutive snaps before a spell finally grazed him, causing him to stumble to one knee. But a moment later, he was standing firm again.
Liz stopped immediately, her voice thick with emotion. "The young master did it! Liz is so happy for you! You will definitely go down in history!"
But Char's face showed no emotion. In fact, he looked slightly dissatisfied, his brow furrowed. After a week of such high-intensity training, his combat skills had undoubtedly improved. His ability to judge magical fluctuations was far more proficient. But in his mind, it wasn't enough. Far from it.
He might have dodged seven of Liz's spells in a row, but he couldn't fool himself. This wasn't a breakthrough. He had simply become familiar with Liz's casting style and developed muscle memory. It was like cramming for an exam by doing the same practice question over and over for a week. Even the dullest student would be able to answer it fluently. But change the question, even slightly, and they would be lost.
A true student, however, understands the core principles. No matter how the question changes, they can still solve it. The two might look similar when facing familiar problems, but in a real test, the difference is night and day.
Char was facing a similar dilemma. He could dodge Liz's magic because he knew it. But against a strange wizard, his performance would be only marginally better than his first real combat experience. There would be no fundamental change.
He frowned, stopping his practice with Liz. Instead, he began to replay Snape's words in his mind.
"Too slow. You are far too slow. Your response to magic must become instinct."
But Char still hadn't grasped it. He felt like there was a barrier, a layer he couldn't break through to achieve the speed and sharpness Snape spoke of. After a long time spent thinking, he still couldn't figure out the problem.
He shook his head, deciding to stop dwelling on it for now. He turned his gaze to Liz. In his past life, he had learned that while some problems had to be solved alone, asking for help was not a sign of weakness. A problem that seemed insurmountable to him might become clear with another's guidance.
House-elves' perception of magic was far superior to that of wizards. They didn't need wands or incantations; a simple snap of their fingers was enough. Perhaps Liz could tell him what he was doing wrong.
So, he asked her. "Why am I always half a beat behind in my perception of magic? I concentrate, I calculate, but I can never predict the direction and position of your magic the moment you cast it. But when I cast a spell at you, you react effortlessly. Liz, how do you do it? Is there some trick to it?"
Liz looked at him, confused. "Huh? Liz doesn't know. Does it require any skill? Liz just feels it, like breathing or a heartbeat." She still seemed puzzled. "Why does the young master have to think about such a simple thing? If you think, won't you be slow?"
Char frowned. "Not think? Then how do I know what kind of magic you're using? Where it's coming from, how fast it is?"
Liz was even more confused. "Does one need to think about that? Isn't that what magic is supposed to do on its own?"
Her words struck Char like a bolt of lightning, illuminating the fog that had clouded his mind for so long.
"Magic should do its own thing…"
"Yes," he breathed. "I forgot. Magic is an inseparable part of a wizard. It's in our blood. It's a part of us, like a hand or a foot, like a heartbeat, like breathing. Why do I need to deliberately control it? It's like a boxer in a match. Does he consciously think about how to move his legs, how to throw his punches, how to control his heartbeat? In that split second, how could he? Of course not! He lets his body react instinctively! And what have I been doing all week? Using my rational mind to try and control my body's instincts and the spontaneous reactions of my own magic."
"Stupid, absolutely stupid!"
A burning intensity filled his eyes. "All I have to do is embrace the magic. Let it do its job."
The next moment, Char's mind went blank. He let his magic flow freely, unrestrained, through his veins.
"Liz," he said. "Come on."
Liz snapped her fingers immediately. This time, Char didn't try to sense the direction of her spell. He gave himself over to the magic within him, thinking of it as his heartbeat, his breath.
Thump. Thump.
A strange feeling washed over him. His magical perception and strength hadn't changed, but his magic felt… alive.
In the next second, he instinctively sensed an invisible force coming toward his abdomen. He turned lightly, effortlessly avoiding it.
His eyes lit up with a brilliant fire. He understood!
An unprecedented joy filled him, like a baby who had just learned to walk. He looked at Liz and laughed. "Hurry, Liz! Don't hold back! Faster, faster!"
Liz sensed his joy and began to dance, snapping her fingers one after another. Threads of magic flew toward him, faster and faster.
At the same time, Professor Sprout, looking tired but thrilled, hurried toward the greenhouse, eager to share some good news. As she opened the door, she froze, stunned by the scene before her.
Invisible magical forces rained down on Char like a storm, and he was dancing in the middle of it, completely immersed in his own joy. He seemed to be dancing alone in the "rain."
It was only when he noticed her that he became distracted. A wave of magic grazed him, creating an upward force. But he simply did a backflip and landed safely on his feet.
Professor Sprout watched, her eyes wide with amazement. She had experienced war; she was no mere scholar confined to a greenhouse. In her eyes, Char had already grasped the art of wizarding combat. A first-year genius! This only strengthened her resolve. She had to find the ingredients for the talent-enhancing potion. Once his lack of talent was remedied, Char would surely become a legend.
At that moment, Char looked at her, his face beaming with joy. "Aunt! You've been locked in the study for days. Any results?"
Professor Sprout finally snapped out of her daze. She smiled and nodded. "The papers on Piranha Algae and the Lighting Spell were submitted this morning. With my connections, they'll have a dedicated review channel, even during the holidays. If I'm right, the reply should be on its way."
As soon as the words left her mouth, the sound of dense, flapping wings whistled over the Sprout family home.