When Char stepped onto the stage, a wave of enthusiastic applause erupted from the Hufflepuff section—louder and warmer than any that had come before. The little badgers hadn't forgotten how Char's brilliant performance in the last Lumos test had helped Hufflepuff stay at the top of the House Cup for weeks. Whether they could win again or not, they wanted to show their appreciation for everything Char had done for their house.
Professor Sprout clapped just as vigorously, her eyes shining with pride and hope. The other professors watched her with puzzled expressions. They'd heard about Char's previous success, but back then, most students hadn't taken the test seriously. With hard work, maybe Char had managed to outshine them—but now, everyone was giving their best. Talent would surely decide the outcome this time, and the professors weren't optimistic about Char's magical potential.
Meanwhile, in the Slytherin section, Malfoy glared at Char with a smug, confident grin. He'd worked hard, practiced relentlessly, and even benefited from Snape's phosphorescent potion. There was no way Char, with his poor talent and recent distraction by Quidditch, could possibly surpass him. Malfoy clenched his fists, excitement and anticipation bubbling inside him. He was ready to watch Char fail, to see Slytherin overtake Hufflepuff and finally claim the lead in the House Cup. Only then would he feel truly vindicated.
He stared intently at the stage, eager to catch any sign of weakness or stumble—anything he could use to mock Char later.
But Char seemed oblivious to the many eyes fixed on him. He'd cast the Lumos charm hundreds of times a day for weeks, and by now, it was as natural as breathing. He raised his wand with calm confidence, his mind clear and focused.
"Lumos."
The incantation was simple, almost casual. The wand traced a perfect arc, and a bright, steady light burst forth, illuminating the stage and filling the room with a gentle radiance.
Something extraordinary happened. The little wizards who had been nervous, regretful, or upset about their own performances suddenly felt a wave of comfort wash over them. Tension eased, and a quiet courage grew in their hearts. The light wasn't just illumination—it was hope, reassurance, and warmth.
On the judges' table, Professor Quirrell of Defense Against the Dark Arts, who had seemed unremarkable and forgettable all year, suddenly flinched when Char's spell lit up the room. He shuddered, as if startled by something. Fortunately, everyone else was too stunned by Char's Lumos to notice. Only Dumbledore gave Quirrell a brief, thoughtful glance before turning his attention back to Char.
The judges began to murmur among themselves.
"Isn't it a shame about Char's talent? How could he have reached this level?"
"This Lumos is remarkable—rare even among adult wizards."
Their surprise was understandable. Most wizards learned the Lumos charm as their first spell and never gave it much thought after that. For most, it was just a way to light a dark room or find a lost sock. Few ever explored its deeper potential. Most students would move on to more impressive magic, and the Lumos charm would be forgotten except during exams.
That was why Char's achievement was so striking. How could a student with such limited magical talent have mastered the Lumos charm to this degree?
Curious glances turned to Professor Sprout. Some suspected she might have used a magical plant or potion to boost Char's abilities, just as Snape had done for the Slytherins.
But Professor Sprout's eyes were shining with unshed tears. She looked around at her colleagues, her voice trembling with emotion. "You think I helped Char? No, it's all his own doing. He practiced the Lumos charm thousands of times, night after night, never giving up. That's how he got here."
Her words hung in the air, and even Dumbledore looked moved. Professor Sprout would never lie about something like this. Char had done it himself—through sheer determination and hard work.
Dumbledore sighed inwardly. If only Char's talent had been a little stronger, even just average, his future would have been limitless. What a shame, he thought.
But regret quickly gave way to admiration. Dumbledore stood and began to clap.
"An almost perfect Lumos," he announced, his voice warm and proud. "Char, your Lumos charm surpasses every other student in your year—and even many older students. This is a level of mastery that few achieve, no matter how talented. I declare you the winner of this test. Hufflepuff will receive twenty-five points for the House Cup, and Professor Flitwick will create a special spell just for you. My Put-Outer is yours as well."
He paused, then added, "And I will personally award Hufflepuff an additional twenty points for your example of perseverance and dedication."
The room erupted in excited chatter. The students had been calculating how the House Cup standings would change after today's test. If Slytherin had swept the top spots, they would have taken an insurmountable lead. But now, with Char's victory and the extra points from Dumbledore, Hufflepuff would remain at the top, with a comfortable margin over Slytherin.
The Slytherins groaned in disappointment, their dreams of glory dashed in an instant. After two weeks of intense practice and the help of Snape's potion, they still hadn't been able to beat Char. It was a bitter pill to swallow.
The Hufflepuffs, on the other hand, were overjoyed. Five weeks at the top of the House Cup! If they could keep this up, they might actually win the cup for the first time in decades.
"The Daily Prophet will probably report it," one badger whispered excitedly.
"My mum will be so proud," another added. "She always said she wished she'd won the House Cup when she was at Hogwarts."
Dumbledore approached Char and handed him the gleaming silver Put-Outer. "Here, child. May it light your way forward when you are lost."
Char accepted the magical device with a grateful smile. "Thank you, Headmaster Dumbledore. I'm sure it will be a huge help to me."
Now, Professor Flitwick stepped forward, his tiny frame bouncing with excitement. "Well, Char, it's time to tell me what kind of exclusive spell you'd like. Anything you can imagine—within reason, of course!"
Char's mind raced. He'd been thinking about this for days. What would help him most in his work? What would help his plants, his friends, his house?
He took a deep breath, then smiled. "Professor Flitwick, I'd like a spell that can help magical plants grow stronger and healthier—something that can boost their vitality and help them resist disease or pests. If possible, I'd like it to be gentle, so it won't harm even the most delicate seedlings."
Flitwick's eyes sparkled. "A plant-boosting charm! What a wonderful idea. I'll get to work on it right away. It may take a few days, but I promise you'll have your spell."
Char nodded, his heart full. He'd come to Hogwarts with little talent and big dreams, and now, through hard work and the support of his friends, he'd achieved something truly special.
As he walked back to his seat, the Hufflepuffs cheered and patted him on the back.