"Very good, Neville. Just keep it like that."
Ryze spoke calmly while watching Neville's trembling hand grip the wand. Beads of sweat glistened on the boy's palm, and the tip of the wand shook slightly in the air.
"The fact that you succeeded just now proves you don't have any real problem with the spell," Ryze continued in a reassuring tone. "Your casting is unstable simply because your body hasn't formed the proper muscle memory yet."
Neville swallowed nervously but listened attentively.
"Here's what you should do," Ryze said. "Every morning after you wake up, and every evening after dinner, find a quiet place. Practice the spell-casting gestures one hundred times. Do it slowly and carefully. If you keep that up for a week, you'll master the Lumos Charm completely."
Neville nodded repeatedly, relief and gratitude evident on his face.
Encouraging Neville was actually quite simple once Ryze understood the boy's biggest obstacle.
Neville's real problem wasn't magical ability—it was his mindset.
Magic itself was an idealistic power. It relied heavily on a wizard's confidence, focus, and willpower. When someone constantly doubted themselves, their magic naturally became unstable.
So when Professor Flitwick had quietly sent Neville over to ask Ryze for advice, Ryze's first action had not been to start teaching.
Instead, he brought Neville to the far side of the classroom, near a window where the noise of the other students faded slightly. There, he asked Neville to stand with his back toward the room.
"Close your eyes," Ryze had said gently.
Neville obeyed.
"Take a few deep breaths and just rest for a moment."
For several minutes, Ryze said nothing more.
The rest of the classroom buzzed with the voices of young wizards experimenting with the Lumos Charm. Occasionally, bright sparks flashed from wand tips, followed by cheers or groans of frustration.
But Neville stood quietly by the window, breathing slowly.
When Ryze judged that the boy had calmed down enough, he asked Neville to open his eyes and practice the wand movement again.
There was no pressure.
No audience.
No rush.
Ryze waited until the other students were busy with their own practice before guiding Neville through the gesture a dozen times.
Then they attempted the spell together.
"Lumos."
A faint light suddenly blossomed at the tip of Neville's wand.
For a moment, Neville simply stared at it in disbelief.
Then excitement surged through him.
"I—I did it!"
The sudden surge of emotion broke his concentration, and the light flickered before vanishing after only a few seconds.
Still, it had worked.
Unfortunately, that brief success also made Neville anxious again. His following attempts all failed.
Seeing the familiar panic returning to Neville's face, Ryze quickly stepped in to calm him down.
Instead of focusing on Neville's emotions, Ryze redirected the conversation entirely.
He didn't mention mindset or confidence.
In fact, he deliberately avoided the subject.
Because the more someone was reminded to "relax" or "believe in themselves," the more pressure they often felt.
So Ryze simply gave Neville a straightforward instruction:
Practice.
Practice constantly.
Practice until your body knows the motion better than your mind does.
Once the gesture becomes instinctive and the mind stops overthinking every movement, magic will naturally flow more smoothly.
For most wizards, this kind of brute-force training method wouldn't make a significant difference.
But Neville was a special case.
Right now, Neville placed far too much importance on magic itself while believing far too little in his own abilities.
The repeated practice served two purposes.
First, it built muscle memory.
Second—and more importantly—it filled Neville's mind with something simple and concrete. When he was busy practicing, he had no space left for anxious thoughts.
Eventually, once Neville gradually realized that magic was simply something a wizard was meant to master, his confidence would grow naturally.
At that point, the extra practice would no longer be necessary.
When Neville finished listening to Ryze's explanation, he once again looked apologetic and grateful.
"Thank you, Ryze," he said quietly.
Ryze waved the gratitude away.
"I didn't really do much," he said casually. "I only spent a few minutes with you. Most of the time, you were practicing by yourself."
That statement wasn't entirely modesty.
While Neville had been resting quietly with his eyes closed earlier, Ryze had actually been discussing the Lumos Charm with several other students nearby.
Compared to the intense theoretical discussions he had with his dorm mates, helping Neville required very little effort.
After all, Ryze wasn't expecting Neville to understand the deeper principles of magic yet.
All Neville needed to do was practice.
Anthony and Terry, on the other hand, frequently came over with questions.
Both boys were deeply curious about the theoretical foundations of spells. Every few minutes they would approach Ryze, ask a question, then step aside to experiment while thinking about his answer.
Their enthusiasm for learning was admirable.
Michael, however, had a slightly different approach.
After grasping the basic theory of the spell, he quickly lost interest in discussing it further.
Instead, he wandered off in search of a partner.
Now he stood several tables away, enthusiastically practicing the Lumos Charm with a small Gryffindor witch Ryze didn't recognize.
The two of them were laughing while casting the spell back and forth.
Watching this scene, Ryze couldn't help smiling faintly.
With his good looks and surprisingly mature personality, Michael probably had the highest chance of getting a girlfriend first among the boys in their dormitory.
Western children developed earlier than those in many other places.
By the time students reached twelve or thirteen, they were already beginning to change rapidly.
Ryze vaguely remembered how the main cast in the Hogwarts movies had suddenly seemed much older by their third year.
Time passed quickly during the lively practice session.
When only a few minutes remained before the end of class, Professor Flitwick hopped onto a stack of books so he could see the entire classroom.
The tiny professor looked around with satisfaction.
Nearly every student had successfully cast the Lumos Charm at least once.
"Excellent work, everyone!" he announced cheerfully.
He then assigned the class homework: a theoretical research essay on the Lumos Charm.
Unlike the essays from Muggle schools, the length would be measured in inches of parchment rather than word count.
"Also, Mr. White," Professor Flitwick added, glancing toward Ryze, "please remain after class."
"If no one else has further questions, you may all be dismissed."
As the students began packing their things, Anthony leaned closer to Ryze.
"Do you want us to wait for you?"
After just one lesson, Anthony was completely convinced of Ryze's magical skill.
It was almost unbelievable that Ryze had grown up in the Muggle world and had only been exposed to magic for a month.
But then Anthony remembered the Gryffindor girl who had memorized every textbook.
She was also from a Muggle family—and she had performed brilliantly in every class so far.
That realization had quietly introduced Anthony to an uncomfortable truth.
Talent gaps between people truly existed.
Compared to them, Harry Potter's performance had actually been rather ordinary.
It wasn't bad.
But it certainly didn't resemble the legendary savior who defeated You-Know-Who.
Harry had mastered the Lumos Charm around the middle of the lesson, just like many other students.
There was nothing especially remarkable about it.
"No need to wait," Ryze told Anthony. "Just help me bring my books back to the dormitory."
He slung his bag over one shoulder.
"I'm planning to visit Professor Babbling after dinner to ask about something, so I might return a little late tonight."
Anthony nodded and left with Terry and Michael.
Gradually, the classroom emptied.
Only a handful of students remained—those who still had questions for Professor Flitwick.
Naturally, Hermione Granger was among them.
After receiving answers to her questions, however, Hermione did not leave.
Instead, she stepped aside and held her books tightly against her chest, watching Ryze with wide, thoughtful eyes.
She was puzzled.
During class, she had clearly understood the theoretical principle behind the Lumos Charm. She had also followed Professor Flitwick's instructions perfectly.
Yet the light from her wand still seemed noticeably weaker than Ryze's.
The difference was obvious.
Even more confusing was the reaction of the other students.
Hermione had tried several times to help classmates understand the spell.
But very few of them listened to her explanations.
Meanwhile, students from multiple houses—even Gryffindors—had gathered around Ryze asking for advice.
During the lesson, Hermione had quietly moved closer just to overhear his explanations.
But what she heard had only deepened her confusion.
Ryze hadn't said anything particularly complicated.
He simply broke down Professor Flitwick's earlier explanations into smaller pieces and repeated them clearly.
Occasionally he corrected a wand angle or a mispronounced incantation.
That was all.
Yet somehow it worked.
"Miss Granger," Professor Flitwick said kindly, noticing she was still standing there. "Do you have another question?"
Hermione hesitated for a moment before speaking.
"Sorry, Professor Flitwick. I'm actually curious about Ryze's study methods. If you don't mind… could I stay here and listen?"
Professor Flitwick chuckled softly.
"Actually, I also wanted to ask Mr. White about his learning progress."
He turned toward Ryze.
"As long as Mr. White doesn't mind, you may certainly stay."
Ryze nodded politely.
"Of course, Professor."
Then he explained calmly:
"My cousin is Andromeda Tonks. Her daughter, Nymphadora Tonks, just graduated from Hogwarts this year and is currently undergoing Auror training at the Ministry of Magic."
"I received tutoring from her and Professor Babbling over the summer, so I studied the theoretical foundations more deeply."
He paused briefly.
"However, I've only built a good foundation. There are still many advanced areas I don't fully understand. I'll need your guidance for those."
Professor Flitwick nodded thoughtfully.
"Ah, yes. Minerva and Bathsheda mentioned your situation to me."
He stroked his beard.
"Miss Tonks is indeed an excellent witch. Her understanding of spell theory is very strong… though she can occasionally be a bit reckless."
He smiled faintly.
"I must admit, I didn't realize she was such a capable teacher when she was a student here."
Then Professor Flitwick looked at Ryze more carefully.
"There's something else I noticed."
"You seem unusually good at teaching others. I saw Mr. Longbottom successfully cast Lumos once with your help."
He tilted his head slightly.
"Did you learn that skill from Miss Tonks as well?"
Ryze shook his head.
"Not exactly."
"I grew up in an orphanage."
"In places like that, many children have sensitive personalities. Sometimes they face a small setback at school and suddenly refuse to attend classes."
He continued calmly.
"If they stop going to school and fail their exams, the orphanage loses the government education subsidy tied to their enrollment."
"So students with decent grades often help tutor the others."
Ryze smiled slightly.
"Along the way, we also learn how to comfort them when they feel stressed or discouraged."
"I think my teaching habits developed naturally during that time."
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