Chương 16: Chapter 17 : Magical Theory II

A trained witch or wizard learned to harness their emotions consciously, temper them, and weave them into their spells without surrendering to them. Control was what separated accidental magic from true mastery. The stronger the wizard, the greater this balance became. At the highest levels, magic was no longer just incantation and wandwork; it demanded emotion as part of its very foundation. Some spells required intent sharpened by emotions.

Without the proper emotional weight behind them, such spells would either fail outright or emerge as pale, weakened imitations of what they were meant to be. In the end, mastery of magic was not the absence of emotion, but dominion over it. In simple words, Waffling was trying to say that wizards had to learn to control their emotions and then use them to empower their spells, a bit like the Patronus Charm, which required happy memories to manifest, or the Killing Curse, which required the desire to kill.

But that still didn't answer Tyson's question. Did emotions increase magical power output, or were they some sort of external amplifier? Personally, he leaned toward the former. After every instance of accidental magic, Tyson felt like he had run a marathon. Every single time, he ended up exhausted and had to rest for a while to recover. Intent. Will. Emotions. If Waffling was truly speaking the truth, then these three had to be the true fundamentals of spellcasting. All the dots connected.

One gave magic its purpose. One channeled and directed it. And the last increased its output. It also explained why Tyson had been able to cast charms on his first try. Intent grew with practice, didn't it? And he had been practicing wandless Accio for almost a year now. Even if he had failed every single time, that didn't mean nothing had changed. His intent might have grown strong enough during that time to make first-year charms easy. His will was also nothing to scoff at since he was an adult in a child's body.

And now that he thought about it, wasn't there a certain branch of magic that encompassed all three of those components? Occlumency, was it? Tyson thought hard, trying to recall all the information he knew about it. It was the art of sealing the mind from external influence... and much more than that, if the books were to be believed. It was basically mental mastery. There was no need to even talk about will. Learning Occlumency required immense discipline and absolute focus.

Harry Potter couldn't master it even by the end of the series, though that could partially be attributed to his hot-headed and passionate personality, which made it nearly impossible for him to clear his mind and compartmentalize his feelings. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. Then there were emotions. To control the mind was to control emotion. To suppress it, organize it, and keep it from slipping.

And at the highest level of mastery, one could even forge memories through Occlumency. That, in Tyson's opinion, was the highest form of intent. Visualization taken to its absolute extreme. The ability to create something so vividly in the mind that it could pass as real. It made his thoughts wander. If his theory was right, then mastering Occlumency should technically complement one's spellcasting as well. Regardless, even without that possibility, it was still an avenue worth exploring.

Getting mind-fucked wasn't on his to-do list... for now. Tyson continued reading without blinking, completely absorbed. Later chapters delved into the differences between raw magic and structured spellwork, the limitations of certain spells, and the ways emotions could influence magical output, and why high-level spells demanded both intent and emotion to be cast. The book was thinner than The Standard Book of Spells, but its contents were far more complex.

Each page demanded his full attention, and Waffling's writing style made skimming through it impossible. As he neared the end of the book, Tyson found that his entire outlook on magic had changed. It was, without question, a good book. Waffling never once claimed to be right. Instead, he laid out different perspectives, compared theories, referenced the thoughts of other scholars, and left the reader to form their own conclusions.

Tyson figured that was probably the main reason Magical Theory was included in the first-year curriculum, because some of its concepts felt genuinely a bit too advanced for someone who had only just stepped into the wizarding world. Perhaps that was exactly why Miranda emphasized belief instead of something as abstract as intent. It made sense. In the early stages, intent could be compensated for with incantations. But belief? That was something every young wizard needed from the very beginning.

To believe in magic. And more importantly, to believe in themselves. After finishing the final page, Tyson shut the book and tossed it aside onto his bed before turning toward his trunk. A grin slowly crept onto his face.

"Now... should we find out how strong my intent really is?" He crouched down and opened the trunk, quickly pulling out The Standard Book of Spells for second, third, and fourth year before piling them beside him. Without wasting time, Tyson started flipping through them one by one. He needed something suitable for indoors, preferably simple enough that it wouldn't blast a hole through his wall if it worked. The second-year book turned out to be useless for that.

Most of the spells were either too situational or too troublesome to test inside a room. He skimmed through it quickly and tossed it aside before opening the third-year one instead. This time, he slowed down, his eyes scanning each page more carefully. He was looking for something straightforward, something with obvious results. It didn't take long before one spell caught his attention. Glacius. The Freezing Charm. Tyson's eyes glinted slightly. Now that could work.

It was harmless enough if weak, and obvious enough to tell whether he had succeeded. If the spell worked, even partially, he would know immediately. After reading through it, he quickly memorized the wand movement before standing up and stepping a little to the side. His eyes landed on the half-empty coffee mug sitting on the bedside table. Good enough. Raising his wand toward it, Tyson took a slow breath and steadied himself. Then he began to visualize. A wave of cold energy bursting from the tip of his wand.

Frost creeping over the mug's surface. The remaining coffee inside freezing solid as ice spread over it. He held onto that image, refining it, sharpening it in his mind until it felt clear enough. Only then did he move.

"Glacius," he uttered. A weak burst of pale blue light flickered at the tip of his wand. For a brief second, Tyson's eyes lit up. But all that followed was a thin stream of cold air drifting forward before dispersing halfway. It didn't even reach the mug. Tyson stayed still for a moment, staring blankly at his wand as if expecting it to explain itself. Then his shoulders slumped. He dropped back onto the bed, his face completely drained of spirit.

"What a fucking letdown..."