In the wizarding world, talent in magic was everything. Gifted wizards picked things up instantly, while those without talent could toil endlessly and still fall short. Hard work wasn't the focus—take Hermione, for example. Everyone praised her "natural talent" for her stellar grades, not her relentless studying. Sure, she worked hard, but her genius made it seem like a bonus, not the main event.
This meant unlocking new spell domain titles was critical for Sean. They directly boosted his magical talent. By mastering three expert-level spells to unlock a title and raise his talent, grinding proficiency for tougher spells afterward would be way easier.
It was all about grinding smart—front-load the effort to make the rest smoother.
Sean quietly crossed out the Disillusionment Charm in his notebook, replacing it with the Quietus Charm. Now, the top row of spells to grind to expert level was Finite Incantatem and Quietus.
While Sean practiced Quietus on a snapping vine, three young wizards trickled into the classroom.
Mr. Owl, the caretaker's pet, squawked, "Little wizards! Clueless little wizards!" as he let them in.
"I heard Hogsmeade has these giant juice jelly balls," Justin said with a grin. "Suck on one, and your feet lift a few inches off the ground!"
He grabbed a notebook labeled "Charms" from a sky-blue wooden bookshelf near the entrance, swapping it for his "Herbology" notes from his bag.
"Hmm, I'm curious about Honeydukes' Fuzzy Mint Sweets," Hermione chimed in, taking the "Herbology" notebook and sliding her "Defense Against the Dark Arts" notes onto the shelf. "They say they clean your teeth like dental floss when you suck on them. Sounds neat."
Sean's notebooks were a shared resource in the classroom. Thanks to his knack for clear, precise summaries, they outshone the vague, confusing textbooks that sometimes even their authors seemed to struggle with.
One glance at Sean's notes, and the young wizards tossed their textbooks aside, as if they weren't even written in English. If they were in English, why were they so hard to understand?
"I can't wait to hit third year," Justin sighed. "The timing's perfect—Sean, we doing the Levitation Charm today?"
"Yup," Sean nodded.
The two kicked off their usual practice: Justin worked on his Levitation Charm, while Sean honed Finite Incantatem.
[You practiced Finite Incantatem at an expert level, +50 proficiency]
[You practiced Finite Incantatem at an expert level, +50 proficiency]
…
A small wooden board on the desk spun twice before Justin caught it mid-air.
Sean silently waved his wand—no incantation needed—and a chart with their group's photos flew into his hand. He marked "Skilled" next to Justin's Levitation Charm, then placed the chart back on the shelf by the entrance, where it was easy to reach.
Justin grabbed it excitedly, muttering, "Not bad, finally hit Skilled…"
Below his "Skilled" Levitation Charm were "Beginner" entries for Finite Incantatem and Aguamenti. Hermione peeked over casually, then turned away with a slight huff—she'd reached Skilled ages ago.
The wizarding world didn't have a clear grading system for spellcasting. Only during O.W.L.s were results sorted into Outstanding, Exceeds Expectations, or Acceptable. But those were broad evaluations. Different wizards could have wildly different proficiency levels for specific spells, making comparisons tricky.
The Ministry's education system couldn't be bothered to assess every wizard's individual spell levels—too much effort for little gain. Plus, spells were affected by a wizard's state, making their strength inconsistent. Young wizards often had no clue how good they were, which sapped their motivation to practice.
But Sean had streamlined the process. It all started with his deep dive into Finite Incantatem—he wanted to know which proficiency levels of counter-spells could stop which levels of spells. The result? A surprisingly effective system. His benchmarks, based on his own spell performance at different stages, were spot-on. This fresh approach to tracking spell mastery sparked a wave of enthusiasm among the young wizards.
It was like a boss's health bar appeared in a game—suddenly, they couldn't resist casting a few spells, as if their wands demanded it.
"For spells or jinxes of equal difficulty, a Finite Incantatem at the same proficiency level can dispel them easily," Sean wrote in his notebook, adding, "Its effect weakens significantly against higher-level spells. Some complex or powerful spells can't be stopped with just one Finite Incantatem. Dispelling is always harder than casting and requires more magic. Simply cutting off the magic flow won't do."
Sean suspected this was why some advanced spells, like Transfiguration or Sectumsempra, needed specific counter-spells, like the Reversion Charm or Vulnera Sanentur.
The sky dimmed, taking on a hazy purple hue. The chill lingered, but Sean tucked away his wand by the warm fireplace. His Finite Incantatem proficiency had jumped from (2200/3000) to (2650/3000)—a 450-point boost. By tonight, he'd likely hit expert level.
Unlike the tricky Silent Levitation Charm, Silent Finite Incantatem was a breeze. The challenge with silent spells was the awkwardness for wizards used to vocalizing. There was a strong, almost physical urge to say the incantation, and suppressing it took serious willpower. This often led to clenched lips or silent mouthing, which was distracting in itself.
But Sean had overcome this hurdle while mastering the Levitation Charm. Silent spells required three things: emotion, firm intent, and a clear incantation in mind. None of these were hard for him.
So, when he stood still, wordlessly waving his wand with a smooth, confident flick to dispel all of Justin's Aguamenti spells, Hermione couldn't help but stare. As for Neville, his mouth hung open wide enough to fit a goose egg.
Glancing at his own chart, where a measly "Beginner" sat next to his Levitation Charm, a rare surge of determination hit Neville Longbottom.
"That's what a real wizard looks like…" Justin said, his praise genuine.
"But, Sean, it's time to meet up with the older students. Should we head out now?"