Professor Blade stood by the window as the first years filed in for their final lesson of the semester. His arms were folded, his usual worn expression softened slightly by a rare flicker of pride. He gave a small nod to acknowledge their arrival and waited until the room had quieted before stepping forward.
“Morning, first years.” His voice was steady, calm, and carried the same quiet authority it always had. “Today’s class will be simple—no new spells, no surprises. Just a chance for you to practice everything we’ve covered this semester.” He paused, letting that sink in as he paced slowly in front of the blackboard.
“I’ve seen a lot of progress in this room, and I don’t say that lightly. You should be proud of yourselves—go on, give yourselves a round of applause if you feel up to it.” His tone was dry, but there was an unmistakable warmth behind the words. He gave a small wave of his wand, and various practice materials—cushions, feathers, quills, even a few old textbooks—appeared throughout the room.
“Pick a spell, practice it. If you want to revise theory, take notes. If you need help, flag me down.” He glanced over the group, his gaze lingering a moment longer on a few who had struggled earlier in the term. “We’ve still got work to do, but you’re off to a strong start.” With that, he motioned for them to begin.