Hogwarts: Proficiency Panel

Chapter 489 490: The Blinding Curse

"That's right," Stan said, still rubbing his chest where the bed had slammed

into him. "Right you are. They say he was thick with You-Know-Who... anyway,

little Harry Potter did for You-Know-Who in the end, didn't he?"

Harry nervously flattened his bangs, trying to hide the lightning-bolt scar that

made him famous. Instinctually, he searched for something—someone—who could offer a sense of security. As if by fate, the most reassuring wizard he knew was sitting right in front of him.

Sean looked up quietly, his eyes drifting from Harry to Stan's back, then back

to Harry.

Stan, oblivious to the legendary company he was keeping, continued his tale:

"All of You-Know-Who's supporters were rounded up, right, Ern? Once You-Know-Who vanished, most of 'em knew the game was up and went quiet. All except Sirius Black. I heard he thought he'd be second-in-command once You-Know-Who rose again. Anyway, they cornered Black in a street full of Muggles. Black pulled out his wand and blasted half the street to bits. Hit one wizard and a dozen Muggles who just happened to be standing there. Terrible, innit? And d'you know whatBlack did then?"

Stan lowered his voice to a conspiratorial, exaggerated whisper.

"What?" Harry asked, hanging on every word.

"Laughed," Stan said. "Just stood there and laughed his head off. When the

Ministry reinforcements arrived, he went along with 'em quiet as a lamb, still

laughing like a maniac. Must've been barking mad. Right, Ern? Mad as a hatter?"

"If he wasn't mad when he went to Azkaban, he certainly is now," Ernie said in

his low, gravelly voice. "I'd sooner blow myself up than set foot in that place.

It's a fit punishment, though... after what he did..."

"Took 'em ages to smooth it over, didn't it, Ern?" Stan added. "The street blown

up, all those Muggles gone. How'd they explain it, Ern?"

"Gas explosion," Ernie grunted.

"And now he's out again," Stan said, peering intently at the gaunt, sunken face

on the front page. "Never been a breakout from Azkaban before, has there, Ern? Don't see how he did it. Scares the life out of me, thinking he could get past those Azkaban guards. Right, Ern?"

Harry and Sean had both noticed Stan's peculiar habit—he couldn't finish a

sentence without checking in with Ernie, as if his words lacked any weight

without Ernie's silent approval. But Stan's words were terrifying enough on

their own. Even Ernie seemed to shiver.

"Talk about summat else, Stan," Ernie growled. "There's two respectable lads

here. Just thinking about them Azkaban guards gives me the collywobbles."

Reluctantly, Stan tucked the paper away.

Harry leaned against the window of the Knight Bus, feeling worse than he ever

had in his life. He knew next to nothing about wizarding prisons, but the way

everyone spoke of them—with that same bone-deep dread—told him everything he needed to know.

The Knight Bus rattled through the darkness, bushes and trash cans leaping out of its way, telephone booths and trees dodging its erratic path. Harry lay back on the feather mattress, his mind a whirlpool of anxiety.

"Sean," Harry whispered, leaning across the gap between the beds toward the

older boy. "The Ministry... they'll catch Black, won't they?"

Sean looked up from his book, his expression thoughtful. "They will certainly

try," he said softly.

"But what if they don't?" Harry persisted. "What will Black do?"

Sean didn't answer with words. He simply looked at Harry, his emerald eyes

bright and steady. In that gaze, Harry felt a strange sense of understanding

pass between them.

"Excuse me, ma'am? Could I swap beds with you?" Harry asked a freckled witch whose bed sat directly between him and Sean.

The witch grumbled under her breath but moved her things. Only when Harry was closer to Sean did his racing heart begin to steady.

Now that he was sitting right next to him, Harry could finally see what Sean was

writing with his eagle-feather quill.

On the neat parchment was a diagram of a wizard holding a wand, the tip erupting

in a flash of light so intense it rivaled the Knight Bus's own high-beams. Below

the drawing were Sean's trademark "Green's Notes" breakdowns—precise hand movements and phonetic deconstructions.

But these weren't like any incantations Harry had ever seen.

"What spell is that... it looks like the Wand-Lighting Charm, Lumos..." Harry

whispered, careful not to interrupt Sean's flow.

Sean's quill paused. "It is the Blinding Curse," he explained.

"Oh—sorry for bothering you, Sean. But... what exactly is a Blinding Curse?"

"It is the first spell I have truly reconstructed," Sean said, continuing to

refine his notes. "It involves altering the internal Order a wizard holds for

the Wand-Lighting Charm. Instead of a simple desire for light, the intent is

shifted toward a focused, piercing brilliance. When the wizard's intent changes,

the Order of the magic naturally shifts to match their will."

Sean spoke as if he were discussing the weather, but Harry was completely lost.

"Once the old Order collapses, a new one is rebuilt in its place," Sean

continued. "The challenge is that the old, collapsed Order can interfere with

the casting. A wizard who masters the Blinding Curse may find it difficult to

cast a standard Lumos for a time, which is why I'm redesigning the ritualistic

elements... it is a matter of perfecting the Wisdom behind the reconstruction."

Harry stared at him, his mouth slightly open. "What is... reconstruction? And

Order? And... collapsing?"

Every word Sean said was in English, yet to Harry, it sounded like an ancient,

forgotten tongue.

Sean looked at him and smiled, realizing he had gone too deep into theory. "I've

created a new spell, Harry."

"Oh! You could have just started with that!" Harry said, the lightbulb finally

clicking. Then, he froze. "Wait... Sean, what did you just say?"

"I—"

"You created a new spell?!" Harry hissed, his voice rising in shock. "Just now?

On the bus?!"

"Mmm," Sean nodded. To him, magic was a rigorous science.

The Blinding Curse proved his theory. While it used the phonetic shell and

gestures of Lumos, it had completely detached itself from the thousand-year-old foundation of the basic Wand-Lighting Charm. It wasn't an "upgrade" or a

variation, like the difference between red and green sparks. It was something

entirely new—created from zero.

It was proof of Sean's core philosophy: A wizard searches inward to establish an unshakable Order within the soul. Once that Order is set, reality itself is

forced to obey.

Wisdom, Sean realized, was simply the wizard's attempt to give shape to the

soul's power.

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