The soft morning light filtered through the tall windows of the Gryffindor dormitory, casting golden streaks across the room. Harry stirred awake before the others, his internal clock already adjusted to early rising.
He sat up quietly, glancing around.
Ron was drooling into his pillow, mumbling something about a rogue bludger. Neville was still hugging his blanket tightly, twitching occasionally. Seamus was sprawled sideways across his bed, snoring in complete defiance of gravity.
Harry smiled faintly. They were a strange group, but… his group.
He closed his eyes again—not to sleep, but to focus. Slipping into a meditative state, he reached out carefully with his mind, calling upon his connection to the Phoenix Force and his innate mental gifts. He'd done this before—read minds in the Muggle world with ease—but magic made things different. Stronger. More guarded.
Still, with gentle telepathy, he touched the surface of their dreams—not invading, just… observing.
Ron's thoughts were full of chess moves. He imagined pieces shifting and dancing across the board in a well-rehearsed pattern. A queen moved to sacrifice herself, opening up a checkmate three moves ahead. Harry nodded inwardly—clever and instinctive. A battlefield mind.
Neville's dreams were more peaceful—greenhouses, soft soil, and the pleasant scent of blooming magical herbs. He saw a small scribbled notebook and felt the pride Neville had when his plant responded to his care. Heart of a Herbologist. Quiet, but focused.
Seamus was chaos incarnate. Harry saw a memory flash—a young Seamus trying to light a candle with a wand, yelling "Incendio!" too forcefully… and blowing up the kitchen table. He barely stifled a chuckle. So that explosion story was true.
The minds resisted more than those of Muggles, but Harry still managed to pull these pieces together. Little truths. Small insights. These boys... they're more than just roommates. They'll be part of his journey.
By the time breakfast rolled around, the Great Hall was alive with its usual charm. The ceiling mirrored the bright morning sky, owls swooped overhead, and the scent of roasted toast and warm eggs wafted through the air.
Harry sat down with Ron, Neville, and Hermione. The buzz of students talking, laughing, and comparing schedules filled the hall.
"today's first class Charms" Hermione read aloud, a gleam in her eye. "Perfect! I've read every theory in the textbook already."
"Of course you have," Ron muttered through a mouthful of bacon.
Later, in the Charms Classroom
The classroom was bright and welcoming, filled with soft cushions, floating quills, and a faint musical hum in the air. Professor Flitwick, standing atop a stack of books behind his podium, welcomed the students with cheerful enthusiasm.
"Today," he squeaked, "we will practice the Lumos charm. But first—let's try a basic one: the Fulgura Charm! Used in the past as a signaling tool—it shoots secret red lights in air for emergency, green for response. Simple, yet significant!"
The students practiced waving their wands, attempting to produce little bursts of colored light. Most struggled at first.
Harry, focusing, flicked his wand with a smooth motion. A neat red spark leapt from the tip.
Hermione turned, startled. "That was quick! Where'd you learn—"
"Old habits," Harry said softly, eyes narrowing slightly.
In truth, minor spells like these were effortless. A side effect of the Phoenix Force? Or simply his early exposure to advanced better theory?
He looked around the room. Most students were fumbling. But he wasn't just observing technique—he was feeling something else. Wand movements, intent, ambient magic…
All of this was crucial data for his library. He felt connected. Like he could see how their magic flowed, not literally but he could feel emotions through pheonix force and sense magic little bit. Another gift? Or something more?
Harry didn't know yet. But the spark in his hand flickered again—brighter this time—and he quietly extinguished it.
There was more to magic than waving a wand. There was intent and strong will, And Harry was beginning to understand it.