Chapter 10: Flitwick Explains the Exact Limits of a Charm

The Charms classroom was on the third floor, east corridor, in a room that smelled of chalk and something warm and electrical that Holmes had decided to classify as ozone until he had a better explanation.

He had arrived at seven minutes past eight. Flitwick's office was adjacent, through a low door that even Holmes had to duck slightly to clear, and was considerably smaller than its contents suggested possible — three walls of shelves packed to the ceiling with texts, annotated examination papers, small experimental apparatus in various states of construction, and, in the furthest corner, a framed photograph of a class group that Holmes did not look at directly but noted peripherally had been turned three degrees away from its usual position. Recently. The fourth wall was occupied almost entirely by a window facing the grounds, and the early light was coming through it in a way that made the dust on the shelves visible as a kind of record-keeping: heavy dust on volumes undisturbed for months, lighter on the references Flitwick reached for regularly, none at all on three texts currently lying open on the central workbench.

Flitwick was standing at the bench. He had been there for some time. The tea beside him had gone cold.