Filius Flitwick
The seventh-year Charms classroom was filled with quiet anticipation. Students from all four houses sat together, wands in hand, waiting for Professor Flitwick to begin.
But today, the lesson wasn’t the only thing on their minds.
Professor Umbridge stood at the back of the room, her stubby fingers gripping her ever-present clipboard, her lips curled into what was meant to be a smile but looked more like a smug grimace. Her eyes darted around the class, scanning for anything un-Ministry-approved.
Professor Flitwick, small but full of energy, scurried to the front of the room and clapped his hands together. “Good afternoon, class! Today, we’ll be practicing a most useful spell.”
His eyes twinkled as he turned toward Umbridge. “And what a delightful surprise! We have a special guest today.”
Umbridge puffed up slightly, as if expecting a warm welcome. “Why, thank you, Professor Flitwick. I do hope my presence won’t be a disruption.”
Flitwick smiled warmly. “Oh, not at all! In fact, you’ve arrived just in time for an important lesson.”
He turned back to the class. “Today, we’ll be covering the Impervius Charm!”
There was a brief murmur among the students.
Flitwick continued, “Now, as some of you may know, Impervius repels unwanted substances—rain, mist, even grime. Excellent for keeping things clean, particularly when one finds themselves in the presence of… unpleasant conditions.”
There was a shift in the room.
Fred and George immediately sat up straighter, exchanging identical grins.
Umbridge, however, remained unaware, scribbling away on her clipboard.
Flitwick continued as though he hadn’t noticed the reaction. “This charm is especially useful when dealing with persistent, undesirable elements—things that linger where they aren’t wanted, that stick to places they have no business being.”
His voice remained light and cheerful, but the meaning was not lost on anyone.
Fred Weasley exhaled sharply. “Blimey, Professor, sounds like an essential skill.”
George nodded solemnly. “Imagine how handy it’d be in a place overrun with pests.”
Lee Jordan chuckled. “Or when someone’s just drenched in the worst sort of filth.”
Umbridge’s quill stopped moving.
Flitwick, still looking perfectly innocent, waved his tiny hand. “Oh yes, an excellent charm for protecting oneself from unpleasant moisture. Particularly useful when dealing with creatures prone to… damp conditions.”
The Ravenclaws, meanwhile, were mostly ignoring the social carnage unfolding around them. Roger Davies was taking notes, his quill scratching against the parchment as he focused on the technical aspects of the spell.
Flitwick, ever the professional, pressed on. “The Impervius Charm is especially effective against creatures that secrete unpleasant substances—slime, for instance, or sticky secretions.”
Fred let out a strangled sound. George clapped him on the back.
Lee Jordan gasped dramatically. “Professor! Would it work against creatures that dribble?”
“Oh, most certainly, dear boy!” Flitwick said enthusiastically. “The charm completely repels anything repugnant. If something foul is creeping toward you, just a quick Impervius—and poof! No more unpleasant contact.”
The class could barely hold themselves together. Even some of the more composed students—like Kenneth Towler—were hiding their faces behind their hands. Cassius Warrington, from Slytherin, appeared uninterested—but his dark eyes gleamed ever so slightly with amusement.
Adrian Pucey leaned back in his chair, expression carefully neutral, but his gaze flicked toward Umbridge in an almost lazy sort of enjoyment.
Umbridge’s smile was now rigid.
Flitwick, however, was not finished. “Now, of course, this charm works wonders on rain and fog—but, oddly enough, certain creatures react… poorly to it.”
A pause.
Then, very deliberately, Flitwick turned to face Umbridge.
His kind eyes twinkled. “For example, toads absolutely hate the Impervius Charm. Coats their skin in a way they find quite uncomfortable. Makes them feel rather... exposed.”
He paused, then slowly looked Umbridge up and down, his tiny eyes scanning her in a way that was just polite enough to avoid outright insult—yet pointed enough for the entire class to feel the burn.
Then, he gave a small, thoughtful nod, met her gaze directly, and said, “After all, it’s about safety.”
A silence so thick it could have choked filled the classroom.
Then, with the softest smile, he added, “Did you know that, Professor Umbridge?"