Chapter 78: Silent Spells

At Hogwarts, silent spells are taught in sixth year.

Dark Arts Defense, Charms, and Transfiguration all require students to master silent spells; logically, most adult witches and wizards in Britain should be able to cast them.

However, sixth and seventh-year courses are all electives, and some students may have skipped all three, resulting in uneven proficiency in silent spells among witches and wizards.

“So, you want to learn silent spells?”

In the afternoon, Professor Flitwick stood in the classroom, looking at Wizard Sean with surprise and satisfaction.

“Yes, Professor.”

Wizard Sean nodded.

“Then let me see your Levitation Charm—”

Professor Flitwick pointed to a chair in the classroom; before he had even finished speaking, Wizard Sean’s incantation rang out, and the wooden chair swiftly rose into the air, spinning several times.

“Remarkable progress!”

Professor Flitwick couldn’t help but clap in praise,

“Now, Mr. Green, tell me—what are the advantages and disadvantages of silent spells?”

“The opponent cannot anticipate what spell you intend to cast, giving you a fleeting advantage.”

Wizard Sean paused for two seconds, then added,

“Of course, without the verbal cue that enhances precision and emotional intensity, the spell’s power weakens.”

Wizard Sean’s first answer was copied verbatim from *Standard Spellwork: Level Six*; the next was his own reflection.

In the original text, spoken incantations are more powerful than silent ones.

In the fifth book, during the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, Hermione was injured by the Death Eater Dolohov; it was explicitly noted that if he had spoken the spell aloud, the damage would have been worse.

“Excellent answer!”

Professor Flitwick was even more surprised, and beneath the surprise lay a hint of delight,

“When a wizard is mature enough to maintain precise mental focus on the intent of the spell, they may learn and use silent spells. Clearly, Mr. Green, it is time for us to ascend to higher levels.”

As he spoke, the professor waved his wand, and the chairs began circling the classroom; bottles, jars, and books also floated into the air,

even the squirrel professor who had just flown in through the window—making the scene utterly fantastical.

“The key to silent spells lies in extreme concentration. When wizards cast spells, they unconsciously speak the words aloud, causing silent spells to fail. Thus, the caster must hold a clear mental image of the incantation… Try it, Mr. Green.”

Wizard Sean’s quill rustled beside him—such was the convenience of magic; he could think and take notes simultaneously.

Professor Flitwick was clearly more pleased; even after three consecutive failures, he remained patient.

Wizard Sean struggled: a wizard accustomed to speaking incantations felt unnatural trying to cast silently.

He felt a strong, physiological urge to vocalize the word, forcing him to suppress it with sheer willpower—resulting in tightly clenched lips or silent lip movements, which themselves were distractions.

It was as unnatural as trying to sneeze and holding it back.

Yet eventually, under Professor Flitwick’s guidance, Wizard Sean grew more accustomed to it; only when he emitted not a single sound did the professor say:

“Remarkable advancement! Let us move to the next step—focus on both the spell and the emotion while casting silently!

Only with immense concentration and willpower can one summon the incantation internally without uttering a sound… This is extremely difficult…”

Emotion, firm will, and a precise incantation?

Wizard Sean thought.

Then he swung his wand—

【You practiced the Levitation Charm to expert standard. Proficiency +50】

“Merlin’s beard!!!”

…

October was approaching; damp, chilling air spread across the grounds and seeped into the castle.

Raindrops the size of bullets pattered against the castle windows, unceasing for days.

The Black Lake rose; mud flowed across the flowerbeds; pumpkins beside the hut in the Forbidden Forest swelled to the size of trellises.

Perhaps because silent spells drained too much willpower, perhaps because Professor Snape’s potion instruction was too harsh and exhausting, or perhaps because the night’s cold snap was too biting,

Wizard Sean caught a cold—just as he had mastered silent spells.

His breathing was heavy, his nostrils flaring; his cheeks and forehead glowed red; he felt dizzy, sometimes unable to tell whether the person before him was Hermione or Professor McGonagall.

After all, yesterday, Professor McGonagall had been tutoring Wizard Sean in her office, while Hermione guided Jia Jia Siting in the corridor.

Michael had taken two photos by the office window—Hermione’s expression and posture were identical to those of his head of house.

“No Transfiguration practice today. Go to the Great Hall and drink some pumpkin juice, child.”

Professor McGonagall pressed her palm to the young wizard’s forehead—it burned as if she could fry an egg on it.

Wizard Sean was half-dazed as he was led to the Great Hall; even as he sat at the long table, he still checked his progress.

He had successfully cast the silent Levitation Charm that morning, Wednesday; all he needed now was to master the Smoke Charm and the Knockback Charm to earn the scholarship he longed for.

Though Professor Flitwick was eager to give him private lessons, could he still cast magic in his current state?

His mind raced with thoughts, until he remembered the hospital matron.

Yes—the same Madame Pomfrey, famed for reviving a wizard even if he had only a breath left.

She could “in a second” mend broken bones—Ginny Weasley’s ankle was injured and healed “in the blink of an eye”; Harry Potter’s shattered skull was “immediately” stitched.

In the second book, after Gilderoy Lockhart’s bizarre and clumsy attempt to repair Harry, she used Skelegro to regrow all thirty-three of Harry’s arm bones in no time…

Her record was verifiable—she was practically superhuman.

As Jia Jia Siting fretted helplessly beside him, Wizard Sean’s voice, hoarse and low, muttered a few words:

“Let’s go to the hospital wing.”

Only then did Jia Jia Siting, frantic and dizzy with worry, snap to attention and half-carry Wizard Sean away.

Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall had already left the Great Hall with swift determination.

Hogwarts was well-prepared for student colds; one magical remedy was among them.

This potion worked well, but the finest quality was brewed personally by the Slytherin Head.

At the end of the corridor, Professor McGonagall quickly found Snape:

“Severus, I need a potion to treat a cold.”

Snape fell silent for a moment, then spoke in a cold tone:

“Professor McGonagall… if I recall correctly, treating students’ colds—seems to be my responsibility…”