Chương 14: Chapter 15 : Trying Out Charms

Later that night, Tyson sat cross-legged on his bed, eagerly flipping through The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 by Miranda Goshawk. His eyes followed each word, reading slowly. Now that he finally had a wand of his own, it was time to see what he could actually do with it. He vaguely remembered there being some rule about underage wizards not being allowed to cast magic outside Hogwarts. The Trace, or something.

But if his memory served him right, Hermione had practiced spells before her first year ever started and had even bragged about successfully using a Mending Charm on the train. If she could do it, then so could he. And if someone somehow complained? Well, he was an ignorant Muggle-born, an eleven year old boy who knew absolutely nothing about wizarding laws. He turned his attention back to the book. The first chapter was mostly a preface. Miranda Goshawk wrote at length about the history of spellcraft.

How in ancient times, wizards had relied on crude hand gestures and guttural vocalizations long before modern incantations and wand movements were standardized into proper spellcasting. There were even small anecdotes scattered throughout the text. One particularly unfortunate spellwright had apparently set his own hair on fire while trying to invent what he called a safer way of lighting candles.

Another early duelist had created incantations so absurdly long that by the time he finished reciting them, the duel was usually over. As he read further, the text gradually shifted from history to structure, describing the key components of casting a spell. Well, it turned out he was mostly correct. There were indeed three components of spellcasting: wand movement, incantation, and intent. And there was an additional component called belief.

She seemed to put special emphasis on the word; it was written in bold and repeated several times. According to her, a wizard's belief in themselves and their magic had to be firm and certain. If there was even a flicker of doubt or hesitation, the spell might fail or even backfire. Oh, she didn't know how much Tyson agreed with her. He turned another page and continued reading. The book covered eight charms in total, each with its own section for title, purpose, wand movement, and incantation.

The Fire-Making Charm, which conjured a jet of flames to set things alight. The Levitation Charm, which caused an object to levitate and float in the air. A first-year named Tyson Steward absolutely loathed this charm. The Locking Spell, which sealed a door shut so it could not be opened manually. The Mending Charm, which seamlessly repaired broken objects. The Severing Charm, which precisely cut or severed objects. The Softening Charm, which made a target object or area soft, rubbery, and bouncy.

The Unlocking Spell, which unlocked and opened mundane or simply enchanted doors and windows. The Wand-Lighting Charm, which caused the tip of the caster's wand to emit light. The Wand-Extinguishing Charm, which was the counter-spell to Lumos. Each spell came with diagrams showing the proper motion of the wand, notes on posture, and warnings about common mistakes beginners often made. The margins were packed with extra advice—small reminders about focus, pacing, and safety precautions.

Tyson appreciated the thoroughness. It felt less like a children's textbook and more like a manual. He skimmed through the list of charms, reading only their titles and purposes before returning to the very first one—the Wand-Lighting Charm. The description explained its origin: a practical charm first popularized by explorers and later standardized by the Ministry for fieldwork. It required a simple upward swish of the wand and a clear incantation—Lumos.

The result, according to the book, should be "a steady spark of white light equal to that of a candle flame." Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Tyson studied the illustration of the glowing wand tip. He drew his own wand and practiced the movement and incantation separately at first, repeating them until they felt smooth. Then he decided to try it for real.

'Here goes nothing.' Taking a steady breath, Tyson pictured a bright spark of light gathering at the tip of his wand. Once the image felt clear in his mind, he raised it and performed the small upward swish exactly as instructed in the book.

"Lumos." In an instant, a small white light bloomed at the tip of his wand, making Tyson blink in surprise. It wasn't particularly bright, just a clean, steady glow no larger than a marble, but it was stable, almost identical to the illustration in the book. Tyson waved the wand around a bit, expecting the light to flicker, collapse, or reveal some flaw, but no—it remained steady. His gaze swept over to the book of spells, to the charm written just below Lumos.

After taking a moment to memorize the instructions and wand movement, he gave another flick of the wand and pictured the light extinguishing.

"Nox." The glow vanished immediately. Tyson stared at the now-dark tip, too stunned to speak.

"Well," he muttered after a pause, "that was anticlimactic." He had honestly expected more resistance. Maybe several failed attempts before getting anything close to success. There should at least have been some sort of difficulty. But this had turned out to be surprisingly easy, which didn't make sense. Everything he knew about Harry Potter painted magic as... difficult. It wasn't simply a matter of waving a wand and uttering the incantation.

There was a lot more to it, and a wide majority of students at Hogwarts genuinely struggled to cast spells even from their own grade. Yet he had just successfully cast two first-year spells on his first try without any difficulty. Heck, it had felt almost natural. Instinctive, even. That raised a question. Could it be that... he was a hidden genius all along? No! He wouldn't make the same mistake again! For all he knew, this could all be one big fluke. The universe had a knack for playing with him.

He had learned his lesson from last time. If this turned out the same way, the blow to his confidence would be far more irritating than the failure itself. There was only one way to be certain. Tyson tightened his grip on The Standard Book of Spells, flipped it open once more, and began working through the other charms mentioned in it one by one. This time, he would test it properly before jumping to conclusions.

He began by casting the Locking Charm on his bedroom door, and the door sealed shut in an instant with a click. The success bolstered his confidence, and after a moment, he tried the Unlocking Charm. The door opened immediately, marking another success. While reaching for the next page, he accidentally knocked his coffee mug onto the floor. It shattered on impact, scattering pieces of ceramic across the wood. Damn, he really needed to get some exercise done. He was getting real clumsy these days.

Anyway, the mug had to be fixed somehow, otherwise his mother wouldn't let him hear the end of it.

'Oh.' Coincidentally, the next charm he stumbled upon was the Mending Charm, which just happened to be perfect for the current situation. How convenient. He took a moment to memorize the wand movement and then pointed his wand.

"Reparo." Almost instantly, the ceramic pieces slid back together and fused seamlessly, restoring the cup as though it had never been broken. The charm immediately became his favorite, right alongside the Summoning Charm. It was genuinely useful. Next came the Softening Charm. He cast it on his desk, and the wooden surface turned oddly pliable, sinking under his touch like thick rubber. Next in line happened to be the charm he hated the most—the Levitation Charm. He cast it anyway.

Watching the pillow steadily rise into the air somehow proved to be even more satisfying than watching Reparo. Apart from the Fire-Making Charm and the Severing Charm, which didn't seem like the best spells to try indoors, he tried every charm in the book, and much to his growing disbelief, he succeeded in casting every single one of them on his first attempt. They were far from flawless. Some were weaker than the book described, others less refined. But they all worked.

By the end of it, Tyson was leaning back on his bed with a grin that had become increasingly difficult to suppress. At this point, the evidence was hard to ignore. He was either really a prodigy... or first-year magic was embarrassingly easy. Tyson preferred the first explanation. In hindsight, he almost felt bad for doubting Garrick Ollivander. The old man hadn't been wrong to dick ride him. If anything, his dramatic speech about potential and unpredictability now seemed a lot more justified.

Fully convinced of this entirely unbiased conclusion, Tyson set aside the absurdly easy first-year spellbook and reached for something more interesting. Not another Charms textbook. Something heavier. Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling. The title alone made him drool. He had always been a sucker for theories. They meant explanations, rules, and structures. And something as complex and old as magic was bound to have many of them.

And Tyson had always believed that understanding the foundation mattered far more than blindly copying the result. If magic had laws—and it had to—then this book was far more valuable than the beginner's charm guide. He flipped first to the table of contents and quickly confirmed it. There were no charms listed anywhere. The book itself felt heavier too, not just in weight but in content as well. He scanned the first page, skimming over diagrams, dense paragraphs, and terms he had never seen before.

It read less like a schoolbook and more like an academic text. Exactly the kind of book he wanted. Settling more comfortably, Tyson flipped to the first chapter.

'What is Magic?' The title instantly drew his attention. That was an interesting question to start a book with, wasn't it?