"All right, Sean, I've got something interesting to tell you."
Right before leaving, Ron said it with exaggerated secrecy.
At that moment, the twins came over too.
"So here's the thing—Percy's got a girlfriend."
Ron said it bluntly.
Fred dropped a stack of books on George's head.
"What?"
Fred asked.
"She's the Ravenclaw prefect, Penelope Clearwater.
Ginny told me. That's why Percy wrote so many letters last summer.
He's been secretly meeting her all over the school. One day Ginny even caught them kissing in an empty classroom."
Ron spilled everything he knew, then shrugged.
"Try not to make fun of him."
"I would never dream of it,"
Fred said—though the look on his face suggested his birthday had come early.
"Absolutely not,"
George replied, grinning to himself.
And just like that, summer began.
In a burst of laughter.
After the Hogwarts Express left, Hogwarts Castle became much quieter.
Which gave Sean even more room to practice Fiendfyre.
Now, even if he set the entire dungeon on fire, he wouldn't end up hurting the Slytherins living in the underground part of Hogwarts.
At times like these, time became a vague thing.
Sean only knew that his Fiendfyre had risen from Apprentice all the way to Beginner.
The speed at which Dark Magic proficiency advanced always left him a little puzzled.
Still, once Fiendfyre reached Master, he would gain his second Master-level title.
And that would happen this summer.
So Sean's life settled into an extremely regular pattern:
Wake up early and practice Occlumency and Legilimency under Professor Snape's watchful eye.
At noon, practice a hundred different brewing methods for potions.
In the afternoon, become a living gas canister…
And every now and then, Dumbledore would suddenly appear with that familiar smile and invite him for afternoon tea.
Before long, that particular afternoon arrived.
A handful of owls flew into the Great Hall—not many, only four or five, all different sizes.
After spending so much time at Hogwarts during the holidays, Sean could recognize who they belonged to.
The short, plump owl was Professor Flitwick's messenger.
The barn owl was Professor Sprout's "Fluffball," the name she had given it.
The elegant snow-white one was Professor McGonagall's pet.
And the one at the front—the fastest of them all—was Bai Yi.
It brought the latest paper. Sean unfolded it lightly, but he wasn't actually looking at the news.
His eyes were fixed on the panel at the side.
[Impediment Jinx: Master (1800/?)
Petrification Jinx: Master (1100/?)
Sectumsempra: Master (2300/?)
Blasting Curse: Master (100/?)
Exploding Charm: Master (100/?)
Three-Foot-Jinx: Master (500/?)
Fiendfyre: Skilled (10/900) …
…]
[Advance: Seven Master-level Dark Magic spells unlock the Dark Magic Master title (6/7)]
Fiendfyre had already reached Skilled, and when Sean looked up again, he realized only half a month had passed.
Naturally, magic progressed more slowly the deeper it became—but this was still much too fast.
So while eating in the Great Hall, Sean couldn't help thinking about the key reason behind it.
He had never chosen any cruel creed, so why did Dark Magic keep embracing him on its own?
And that made him think of something even more important:
How, exactly, does a wizard become stronger?
Inside the Great Hall, only one pitiful student was left sitting at the four House tables, but nearly all the professors were still at the staff table.
"Another year is over, Minerva. Spring in Scotland is too short, and winter too long. The days pass like a happy little bird darting past the window."
Dumbledore sounded reflective.
"Hogwarts has no shortage of summer,"
McGonagall replied, and lowered her eyes to the newspaper. In one of the moving photos was a plump Ministry worker.
The caption underneath read: Ministry Employee Wins Grand Prize.
"Is that so? You know, wizards usually use clocks to keep track of time—but did you know some wizards record it with magic?"
Dumbledore blinked and turned his gaze toward the absorbed little wizard.
Sean was holding a broad sheet of parchment, recording the progress of his magical studies while sorting through the thoughts in his head.
"During the Blind period, wizards were skilled at drawing on the power of emotion. They didn't need incantations, and they didn't need wands. The magic of that age was violent and savage.
By the Order period, ancient wizards had emerged bearing ancient magic, and nearly defeated every dominant force in the magical world of their time.
Compared with modern magic, ancient magic inherited the ferocity of the previous age.
Though very few wizards could fully control ancient magic, those who could were extraordinarily powerful.
The greatest among them was Merlin."
As he kept thinking, the quill moved steadily, filling in the missing pieces of A Chronology of Wizarding Magic.
"Wizards sought inwardly, built unshakable order in their hearts, and magic became the outward expression of that inner order.
What we call Wisdom, however, seems more like the external laws wizards found for magic…"
In the Great Hall, the only sounds were the quiet murmur of conversation and the inspired scratch-scratch of Sean's quill.
"After wizards studied long enough, they eventually all encountered nonverbal casting. And once a wizard reached nonverbal casting, it became difficult for them to keep using spoken incantations."
Just like Sean himself—he hadn't spoken the incantations for Levitation or Cleaning in a long time.
"Once wizards learned nonverbal casting, they quickly went on to wandless casting.
For example, when Harry's broom went out of control, Headmaster Dumbledore simply pointed a finger upward and saved him.
Professor Snape only needs to flick his robes to shut a window.
And Voldemort can fly without either wand or incantation.
If incantations and wands strengthen a wizard's magic, then why do wizards always…"
Sean paused, then wrote down several words:
Reduce to Emptiness.
The Hall was quiet except for the low hum of voices and the brisk scratch of Sean's quill:
"Has wizarding wisdom truly raised the upper limit of magic? Or has it only raised the lower limit enough to make magic easier to spread?"
If that could be proven clearly, then Sean would know how wizard magic truly became strong.
Was it by becoming ever more familiar with incantations? More practiced with wand movements?
Or was it by using one's own will to define magic—
"If wizards became stronger by mastering the external laws of magic, then newly created spells should be primitive and weak.
But in reality, the opposite is true. Dumbledore's Fiery Path, for example. Grindelwald's improved Fiendfyre…"
And in that instant, Sean understood.
By subtraction, seek emptiness.
By order, endure.
Could that be the true essence of magic?
~~~
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