Year Three, Chapter Four: Casting Practice

“Expecto patronum! Expecto patronum!”

For about the fiftieth time that day, the spell died on the tip of my wand, with barely a glimmer of silver light all I had to show for my efforts. I sighed, tossed my wand onto the nearest table, and slumped down into the chair next to it. I had spent hours in an abandoned classroom practicing the spell, and I was no more capable of casting it than I had been before. And this wasn’t even the first time. I had tried several times before, and today was just the latest failed attempt. My failure was hardly surprising, however - the patronus charm was not usually taught until NEWT level - sixth and seventh year - so for a thirteen year old to master it would have been quite some feat. Sure, Harry Potter had managed it at thirteen, but he was Harry Potter, and I was only a muggle. The only reason I was eve attempting the spell was because Wynter had suggested it could provide a clue as to my true nature.

I picked up the spellbook from the table, and read through the page on the patronus charm once again. The spell was powered not through conventional magical force, but through happy memories, however it did still require precise pronunciation and wand movements. I had carefully studied the diagrams of the wandwork, and I was confident that I was doing it right. The pronunciation I had checked with Wynter, who assured me I had it right. That meant that the problem was within myself. Perhaps my memory wasn’t happy enough, perhaps I wasn’t channeling the memory into my wand enough, or perhaps my wand simply couldn’t handle the highly advanced spell.

I grabbed my wand from the table and took a closer look at it. It was intricately made, strands of polished wood twisting around spheres of golden liquid. The wand’s design had originated hundreds of years ago, with Wynter theorising about it in his lifetime, but as far as I knew, mine was the only one ever made. I was able to direct the magical energy bonded to me into the spheres, and the spheres acted as a source of magic for spells cast with the wand. The wand had raised questions from quite a few of my classmates over the years, which I had initially struggled to deal with, before I made up a fib about it being a decorative design made in Japan.

I stood back up. ‘One last try before Defence’, I told myself, ‘and then I’ll stop for the day’.

The memory I had been using was my first time casting a spell, but this time I decided to go for something different - when Dumbledore first handed me my wand, and told me it would let me use magic. I focused on the scene, on the office packed with magical trinkets, on Dumbledore’s serious expression and thrilling words, and of the feel of the wand in my hand.

“Expecto Patronum!”

The spheres along my wand flared bright gold, and a silver mist shot from its tip. It hovered in the air for a second, shapeless. And then, as quickly as it came, the mist vanished back into nothingness, and the light in my wand faded away.

“That’s more like it!” I shouted, punching the air in celebration. “Finally some progress.”

I was tempted to continue practicing, especially since I could now see that I was improving. However, I had promised myself that I would only try it once more. There was no point in exhausting myself trying to perfect an advanced spell in one day. There was also the fact that I had a Defence lesson to get to. So, I lowered my wand. Feeling much more confident than I did a minute prior, I put the spellbook back into my bag and left the empty classroom. Discovering my patronus would be a step towards finding out the truth about myself, and I was making good progress towards doing just that.

The Patronus charm wasn't the only thing Wynter had told me to look into. He had also recommended confronting a boggart - a shape shifting monster that took the form of your greatest fear. It would be a lot quicker and easier than the patronus method, but I had no idea where to find one. I knew that their usual hiding spots included cupboard and grandfather clocks, but that wasn't too useful. I could hardly check every single one in Hogwarts, now could I? Hopefully Professor Moody would show us one in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Last year, Professor Lupin had shown all of the third years a boggart. If I was lucky, Moody would stick to Lupin’s curriculum.

Moody’s first lesson had been quite exciting, especially for a no-wands lesson. Moody very much fit the part of the ‘grizzled old veteran’, carrying both physical and mental scars. His nickname, Mad-Eye, came from his magical eye, which constantly jumped about, scanning every inch of whatever room he happened to be in. The first lesson he had taught us was ‘constant vigilance’ - always keep your eyes open and be aware. My classmates had mostly dismissed it as sheer paranoia, but I saw the merit to his advice. In my first two years at Hogwarts, the castle had been invaded by first a giant snake, and then Undesirable Number One. It filled me with anticipation for his next lesson - if he could make theory interesting, I could only imagine the range of exciting spells he’d have us learning.

The defence classroom wasn’t far from where I had been practicing, so I got to the lesson about five minutes early. I went into the room and took my seat on a table near the front. In most lessons I sat near the back, where it was easier to get away with chatting, but for Defence I chose a front row seat so that I could see all of the action. It was, after all, the most exciting lesson. While I waited for the others to turn up, I looked through my bag for my book. When I looked up, Jake was sitting down next to me.

“Hi Jake,” I said.

“Hi Matt,” Jake said. “Where’ve you been all lunchtime?”

I shrugged. “Oh, you know, here and there…”

“I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking,” Jake said, fixing me with a serious look. “You were quite distant last year, but so far this year - and I know it’s only been a week - I’ve barely seen you outside of lessons.”

I glanced at the door, hoping for Professor Moody to stride in and save me from this conversation. Unfortunately, the door stayed closed.

“I, umm…”

Jake’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “You’ve been meeting with Slater again, haven’t you?”

“No!” I said. “I swear that’s not where I’ve been going.”

“Then where?”

The door opened, but it was only a pair of girls from Hufflepuff, who we shared the lesson with. I knew them fairly well from Charms last year, so I gave them a wave, that they returned.

“Matt?”

Inspiration struck me. I didn’t have to come up with an elaborate lie, I just needed to tell the truth. “I’ve just been practicing spells. Honestly.”

“Do you mind if I join you next time?” Jake asked. “My wandwork’s gotten a little rusty over the summer.”

“Umm-” I started.

Jake gave me a serious look, and I realised I didn't really have much of a choice.

“Sure!” I said with fake enthusiasm.

At that moment, the door opened again and it n poured the rest of the Gryffindor students, a couple of Hufflepuffs tagging along behind them. Jamie and Toby took the table next to ours, and we were saying “hi” when Professor Moody walked into the room. His wooden leg clacked against the floor, his magic eye spinning about and surveying the room. He stopped at the front of the classroom, and turned to face us. * “Incarcerous!”* He barked, jabbing his wand at me.

Ropes shot from his wand and wrapped around me, tying me to my chair. My wand clattered to the floor - I had dropped it in surprise. I tried to wriggle out of the ropes, but my efforts were in vain. They were simply too tight for me to have a chance.

“Mason,” Moody said, marching up to me and cutting the ropes off of me with a careful cutting hex, “what was the first lesson I taught this class?”

So that was why he had attacked me out of the blue.

“Constant vigilance, sir,” I said, maintaining eye contact while picking up my wand.

“Never drop your guard,” Moody said, his eye sweeping across the room. “What if I had been a Death Eater in disguise?” You - ” he jabbed his wand at me “ - would have been dead.”

“Would've been dead anyway,” I muttered. “I don't know any defensive spells.”

Moody shook his head. “Lesson two - think outside of the box. Mason, are you a fast learner?”

“I-”

“Incarcerous!”

I sprang to my feet, waving my wand for the first spell that came into my head.

“Arresto Momentum!”

The ropes stopped inches short of me, and flopped to the floor. One of the ropes landed across my desk, knocking over my inkwell. I raised my wand defensively, dropping into a crouch. If Moody tried another spell, I'd be ready, either to counter-spell or dodge.

“Much better,” Moody said, nodding his head in approval. Suddenly, he flicked his wand towards a Hufflepuff girl - Heather - near the back. “Incarcerous!”

“Depulso!”

Heather’s spell slammed into the ropes full force, and send them flying into the far wall of the room, narrowly missing Moody. It was a fourth year spell, but I wasn't all that surprised. Heather had always been top of the class in Charms, much to Celeste's frustration - the two were friendly rivals.

Moody spent another few minutes randomly attacking students, until everyone had successfully defended themselves once. It took Rochelle three attempts, the most in the class. When she finally managed to stop the ropes, Moody got us working in pairs on the spell he had been using. I paired up with Jake, and we took turns shooting string from the ends of our wands.

After the tenth time failing to conjure a proper rope, let alone tie Jake up in it, I threw his arms into the air in frustration. “Why is this so damn hard?”

Jake looked thoughtful for a moment. “What type of spell is it?”

“It's a charm, right?” I asked.

“What you do with the ropes is a charm,” Jake said.

I realised what Jake was getting at. “But creating them is transfiguration,” I said.

“Exactly.”

I tried the spell again. With the first wand movement, I pictured only the ropes - their length, their thickness, their texture. Then, with the second wand movement, I focused on the movement of the ropes, encircling Jake and tying him up. My wand flared with light, and a rope shot from it, tying itself around Jake’s shoulders. My best friend simply wriggled out of the rope. It wasn't a good casting of the spell, but it was much better than my previous attempts.

Colin looked over, mouth open. “How'd you do that?!”

I shrugged. “It's not that impressive…”

“Compared to this…* Incarcerous!*” Colin said. A string dribbled from the end of his wand. “It's like I'm emptying a toothpaste tube, it's rubbish!”

Jake started explaining the spell to Colin, so I paired up with Colin’s partner, Ginny.

“D’you want to cast first?” she offered.

“Sure,” I said, raising my wand.

Ginny didn't even let me begin casting. In a split second, her wand was up and casting. “Incarcerous!”

She got the first part of the spell wrong, but the second part spot on. That was how I ended up tightly wrapped in frayed, thin string.

“That was a dirty trick,” I said, shocked.

Ginny stuck her tongue out at me. I glared at her.

“Constant vigilance,” she said, winking.

Moody, who had watched the whole thing, nodded proudly. “Very good, Weasley.”

Author's Note: Merry Christmas!