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Professor Flitwick was working with Sirius, who had already finished the week's goal of successfully levitating a book without using verbal spells. They were attempting something a bit more ambitious: disarming.
Remus watched Sirius squint his eyes, his eyebrows coming together. He flicked his wand, and Flitwick's wand wiggled in his hand.
"Good! Very good, Mr. Black," Flitwick exclaimed.
"But I didn't get it," Sirius said. Remus heard disappointment in his voice.
"No matter, my boy," Flitwick replied with a warm smile. "This isn't an easy thing to do. You were able to move my wand in my hand, and I was holding on very tightly. You're a talented wizard. You have a great future ahead of you."
Sirius smiled. His hand went to his face. Was that a tear Remus saw? Any praise meant a lot to Sirius. He never got it from his parents, and he acted out so much at school he was often getting scolded.
“Thanks, Professor,” Sirius said.
from “Ante Bellum” (chapter 13, Too Many Puzzles to Count)