"Before you learn it, have you already looked into the Patronus Charm's origins?" Professor McGonagall asked.
A wizard's spells weren't something pulled from thin air. The deeper a wizard's understanding of magic, the stronger their magic became.
It was such an obvious truth, and yet it wasn't widely applied.
Only a handful of truly advanced witches and wizards had a clear feel for it.
If it were another professor, they might have started teaching the incantation right away—because most students rarely noticed this point, and even when they did, they didn't know how to use it. But her child was different.
Dumbledore was right: a child like this required a more tailored kind of education.
"In the library, I found some woodcut prints," Sean recalled, "and from those old woodcuts and scrolls, you can tell the Patronus Charm was already being used in ancient times.
So people don't know who invented it, or exactly when it first appeared.
But for a long time, this spell has been associated with witches and wizards who fought for noble causes—those who can conjure a corporeal Patronus are often put forward for high positions in the Wizengamot or the Ministry of Magic."
He wasn't copying straight from the book. He was giving his own synthesis and conclusions.
"An unexpectedly good answer," McGonagall paused, smiling in approval.
"Have you heard the story of Raczidian?" She lifted a cup of tea; misty steam rose into her line of sight.
"Yes, Professor. The legend says Raczidian was a Dark wizard. He believed a witch named Eleanne would be his ideal wife, so he wrote to her parents, asking them to support the marriage.
But Eleanne's parents refused him. Raczidian threatened to send Dementors to destroy the village unless they handed Eleanne over.
The villagers chose to resist, and a battle broke out.
The villagers' Patronuses—bears, wolves, boars—held off wave after wave of Dementors, but they were gradually overwhelmed. The Patronuses weakened, and the casters either broke down or scattered in flight.
At the last moment, a shy young orphan stepped forward.
He hadn't been allowed to fight before, because the village elders believed his Patronus was too weak to be of any use.
But when his rat Patronus sprang from the tip of his wand, every Dementor was driven back…"
As he spoke, Sean felt something click into place.
This story was written in The Book of Spells—a practical reference with a purple cover and gold trim.
He had memorized the whole thing.
"The Patronus's power has nothing to do with its form," McGonagall said, satisfied. "It comes only from the wizard's strength. Remember that, always.
Have a sip of pumpkin juice, then continue."
Sean lifted the pumpkin juice beside the little silver cat ornament and took a small drink.
He knew Professor McGonagall didn't particularly like sweet treats, yet somehow candies and fruit juice had started appearing on her desk.
"Raczidian was enraged, and decided to join the fight himself.
He tried to summon his own Patronus—to counter Ilius's rat Patronus.
But he forgot that only the purest heart can summon a Patronus.
And so, for the first time, people saw what happened when a wizard unworthy of a Patronus attempted the spell:
maggots erupted from Raczidian's wand, and quickly devoured his body."
When Sean finished, he fell into thought.
"That is, in truth, a misconception," McGonagall said slowly.
"Many people with negative personality traits can still conjure a fully formed Patronus. However, when Dark wizards attempt the spell, most of them are still consumed by the maggots it produces.
That is why Dark wizards rarely master the Patronus Charm—though, of course, they have little need to."
Sean knew that among the Death Eaters, only Professor Snape could cast it.
"Love can redeem," McGonagall said, her voice low and firm. "That is the root of the Patronus Charm's power. To succeed, you must focus on the happiest memory you can summon.
The stronger the joy that memory brings, the stronger the spell."
Sean nodded quickly.
"Are you ready to learn the incantation?" McGonagall asked.
He nodded again—faster.
"Then focus on your memory. The incantation is—" McGonagall raised her wand. "Expecto Patronum!"
A silver cat appeared again.
The happiest memory…
Sean searched himself.
Was it the moment he escaped death? The moment the owl smashed through the window? The moment he fled the orphanage?
"Expecto Patronum," he repeated silently. "Expecto Patronum!"
Nothing happened.
Sean stopped. His wrist stopped circling too.
Those memories were vivid—but they didn't bring him a surge of joy.
He wasn't the kind of wizard who clung to past suffering.
So what, then, was a truly good memory?
Minerva McGonagall didn't interrupt his search. She stood quietly to one side; her silver cat had already vanished.
Or maybe it was here.
His first Herbology lesson… the first successful batch of a mature potion… Christmas gifts…
"Expecto Patronum!" Sean called.
A puff of silvery vapor burst from his wand—more like mist or smoke than any animal, with no definite shape.
[You practiced the Patronus Charm to an apprentice standard. Proficiency +1]
"A non-corporeal Patronus—very good!" McGonagall praised.
Casting a Patronus was a strangely intimate process: it forced a wizard to revisit their past.
When Harry practiced, he'd replayed hazy memories of his parents.
Now Sean's own past unspooled like a projector reel—
a particular memory, especially bright—
Did he have one? A memory strong enough to summon a solid, powerful Patronus—did he?
He did.
White mist washed over his consciousness… and he remembered a warm, steady feeling—one that had once come from the witch standing before him.
"Expecto Patronum!"
He flicked his wand, drawing the circle.
A silver cat began to form—yet it still felt incomplete.
Then his memory froze on a grey photograph, the hospital wing under moonlight, and Professor Quirrell's tear-streaked face.
"Expecto Patronum!" he repeated soundlessly.
This time, the silver cat leapt fully into being.
[You practiced the Patronus Charm to an expert standard. Proficiency +50]
Minerva McGonagall stared, momentarily stunned.
And Sean thought:
So the Patronus Charm isn't that hard after all.
Outside the door, an old wizard with a long white beard withdrew his gaze in quiet satisfaction, then turned away.
In those eyes, he hadn't seen much—only a single thing:
a sun, born with no need to be taught how to shine.
~~~
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