431993-03 may
Ron entered his Head of House office when the wooden door opened by itself. Before he could properly register anything, he found himself staring at a Solar System's model floating under the high ceiling.
He didn't immediately realize exactly what was catching his attention, but soon he could point it out: the Sun was a perfect fireball. The flames always lick upwards, it was basic physics, cool air travels from low to high because of her intrinsic density and the flame followed that movement. Not that fireball, the flames flickered radially on the Sun's surface. It was beautiful, and held a complexity that showed Ro how long the road he was travelling on was. He managed to write words with a controlled incendio, even to make a little figure dance. But his fireballs reached the size of a quaffle before collapsing, and the fire behaved normally.
Maybe that it's not an incendio. He thought, observing the rest of the Solar System. Each planet had all of its moons in the correct position, he had looked at Jupiter's moons a few days before during Astronomy, so the memory was fresh. He noticed that Mercury moved faster than Jupiter in its ellittical path, and after Mars there was a belt of sand and.. ice crystals? Ron wondered.
All those perfect details made him think that even if his fellow wizards didn't know about the Apollos missions, they were not exactly hopeless regarding the mysteries of outer space.
On his left there were shelves full of books that formed aisles impossibly deep. At the end of said aisles, tall windows showed mismatched sights: the first looked on the Black Lake like it was on the first floor, the second showed trees' tops gently waving in the wind.
On his right there was a two meters high mirror that didn't reflect the room. Remembering the Mirror of Erised from the year before, Ron moved nervously out of the way, only to almost crash into a pyramid of dueling trophies and awards of various kind, before almost planting his face into a floating piece of parchment were ink was moving and apparently making calculations of some kind.
On the back of the room, the wall was transparent, offering a wonderful sight over the Grounds and the Forbidden Forest.
A light cough took the young Ravenclaw away from his musings and when he looked towards the source of that sound I completely ignored the amused professor in order to stare at the fire that rolled, twirled and danced in the copper brazier engraved with runes.
Ron couldn't resist. "That's Gubraithian Fire." He blurted out.
"Indeed." laughed Flitwick "And how can you tell?"
"White and blue flame, no heat, no smoke." Ron explained analitically. "And there is no way in hell a normal magic fire laughs in synch with you, sir." he added, noticing the 'hopping' quality of the flames.
"Aptly put, mr Weasley. However 5 points from ravenclaw for inappropriate language." replied merrily the Charms' master.
"And what else do you know about Gubraithian Fire?" he then asked.
"The Eternal Flame is the expression of both absolute mastery over fire and perfect control of one's own magic." Ron spoke quickly. "It's not about casting an everburng fire, since that can be put on whichever piece of wood. That stage of the Flame it's basically the representation of your own magic. It's self sustaining and will die only when the caster does."
"Five points to Ravenclaw." Flitwick smiled wolfishly. "Now, what can I do for you, mr. Weasley?"
"Sorry if I got distracted, sir." Ron hastly apologized, it was hardly polite after all, asking a meeting with your head of house only to ignore him to gawk at his stuff. "It's undetstandable. You're not the first that, pardon the pun, is charmed by my enchantments.
Ron nodded, and went on: "Well sir, we'll need to choose our electives the next month and I had a few questions, I wondered if I could ask you?"
"Questions that the library can't answer? I am pretty sure that there are introductory books to every subject, and you are hardly someone new to research." Flitwick replied with a surprised look on his face, even if his tone was almost reproachful. Wasting the time of the professors only to satisfy one's own laziness was hardly appropriate.
"Well yes, I read them but..." Ron muttered, unsure if going on. He trailed off into silence, shifting uncomfartably in his chair.
After a couple of seconds,to Filius was obvious that the boy was somewhat and somehow scared into silence, and that was far from his intent. "Do you remember what I first told you and your classmates, on your very first morning in the Common Room? You can talk to me."
Ron nodded, a bit reassured, and sighed into his armachair, he had asked for that meeting, better make the most out of it.
"It's that... I thought that..." He started twice only to trail off into silence.
Once more, he took a deep breath before talking again. He used one of the mind clearing exercises that Vega Black's book had explained to him. He rooted himself in the moment, letting his emotions fall into the background. He finally started to understand the speec about fear he had read in Dune.
Imust not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.
"I think I'd like to become a Healer, sir, and I don't want to take up electives that would be useless, even if I know that I already like Ancient Runes. But I didn't want to take up something that I would abandon after the OWLs."
Flitwick leaned back in his chair, with a surprised expression on his face. "Not many think that the choice of electives helds such an impact on their lives." he quietly commented.
"Usually we have the career talk with the students during their fifth year, do you know why?" the Charns professor asked.
When Ron shook his head in a mute 'no', the half gobling answered his own question: "It's done only then for three reasons: one, the students can spend their first five years at Hogwarts with the possibility of freely roam one of the most vast libraries in Magical Britain. In this way they can learn what they do or do not like, about magic and life more in general. Two: with enough OWLs, one can stop attending Hogwarts and use his wand even if underage, subjected to heavy restrictions and scrutiny by the Ministry in this case. We expect that since you cone of age at 17, at 15 you start thinking properly about your future. And three: you are deemed too young to burden yourself with long term plans about your life, you should try to simply enjoy your school life."
The diminutive professor' shiny black eyes bored into Ron's blue ones. "But I always thought that, while without being mandatory, such a talk should be held at the end of the second year. I find that a clear objective helps the students focus, and even better let us know soon if tge path he has chosen is ill suited for him. Or if he simply dislikes it."
He clapped his ands once and leaned foward with an interested spark behind his eyes. "So, mr. Weasley, you'd like to become a Healer? This can explain why you are unsure on your choice. I presume you have a preference in the specialization? Venom, Curses, Mundane Wounds?" the half goblin spoke.
The young Ravenclaw sighed in relief, it had been a risk, blurting out so casually what he struggled to admit to himself, now the road was easier.
"Well... I like the brain sir, how it works why it works. And I'd like to learn more on its relationship with magic, like how the way we think influences our spells and stuff like that."
The eyebrows of the half goblin climbed higher on his forehead. "That's very specific. Mind Healer will no doubt help you in this endeavour, however you will branch into higly theor magical theory. May I ask how you came to consider it?"
Ron shrugged, unsure if sharing, but with another sigh, like he was defeated he answered: "I used to have nightnares, but then I read about them and the brain and managed to... get through, and sleep soundly. And I'd like to help people."
He esitated, remembering that his studies on the Mind Arts were a secret, and he wanted to jeep his meetings with Dumbledore to himself as long as possible.
As soon as he had managed to properly learn Occlumency he intended to shsre the book and his understanding to Harry and Hermione, who were the only ones that knew about his encounters with Dumbledore. Well, all they knew was that they played chess, but still. And Luna, who had the inopportune habit of hopping out of nowhere at the strangest moments.
"And I don't know. I just kinda... want to know how magic and us work?" He added, hoping that the professor wouldn't enquire further.
The half goblin let out a chuckle. "Is that all?" he asked. "You only want to explore two of most mysterious and complex topic wizards and witches have tried to u ravel since the dawn of time?" His smile grew wide. "Good for you!"
"Healing is one of the most demanding careers, I personally don't see it as something you cannot achieve. The mandatory NEWTs you'll need are Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, Arithmancy, which you'll need to calculate either dosages or timing for properly regrow bones. Care of Magical Creatures will give you a solid base, you never know what can bite your future patient. Same reasoning goes for Herbology. And knowing your ingredients will only help prepare better potions, in my opinion. Having said that, almost every single subject has snippets here and there that can be applied to Healing, for example Runes allow the crafting of the more complex diagnostics. You see, a charm can be as complex as you can imagine it, with Runes you can build very specific wards. Basically trap wires that are triggered by very specific condition, like blood pressure. Astronomy can work in giving you an understanding of healing rituals. Many mothers wish for their children to be born under the influence of a specific star or constellation. In your seventh year of DADA you'll go over counter curses, that can prepare you to learning how to limit the damage inflicted by Dark Magic."
Ron stared at the professor dumbfounded: "Are you telling me that every Healer has 9 NEWTs, sir? Doesn't anyone take 4 or 5?"
"True, but you don't want to be just any Healer, you want to research the connection between mind and magic, a very woolly subject, if I say so myself. And the more vast is your base, the more different approaches you can attempt." The half goblin replied.
Ron started thinking about it, and after a few seconds he had what in his opinion was a brilliant idea: "Could I sit any of my OWLs earlier, sir?"
The professor nodded, understanding where he came from: "You cannot. A couple of centuries ago, a thirteen year old witch had been granted such a permission, and at fifteen she graduated with... I believe 8 NEWTs? 7? Anyway, she was allowed to perform magic like she was of age. And in sone kind of accident she almost broke the Statute of Secrecy. So the Wizengamot followed its tradition of fixing problems on the wrong end, forbidding students from attending OWLs earlier."
At Ron disbelieving expression, the diminutive professor added: "You can check in the library."
Clapping once, he smiled kindly: "Back to our original topic. In your fifth, sixth, and seventh year, you can sit the OWLs you sign up for. Hogwarts require you to attend lessons only on your core subjects. That will involve a great deal of self study, which implies determination. Having said that, if you manage to impress a professor, you can sit his subject's NEWT in your sixth year, again, it's a lot of work, and not something easy. And this things are said in a speech I give to my fifth years, seeing your interest, peraphs it's opportune I anticipate it."
Ron nodded thoughtfully. The idea of taking a NEWT a year before was intriguing, even if keeping studying herbology and astronomy was really disheartening.
"So, shall I take Care of Magical Creatures, Arithmancy and Ancient Runes?" He summed it up.
"You can take what you want, even if I suggest sitting in the lessons of Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, some topics are a bit tricky, and I higly recommend facing them with the help of a professor. While Care of Magical Creatures can be mostly studied on your own. After all, for your career, it's enough a theorical understanding of the subject." The professor kindly corrected him.
I could ask Hagrid for some tips. Ron thought. Then an image of Hermione and Ottery's library flashed into his mind. I bet I could even attempt an OWL in Muggle Studies. He suddenly realized. A thrilled determination settled in his mind. Bill and Percy got twelwe OWLs didn't they? I'll do that too. He decided, his old wish to be recognized by his family raising his head in his heart.
Taking notice of his rising emotions, Ron once again used a breathing exercise taken from The Mind Arts to calm himself.
"That's twice that you've openly used meditation in front of me, mr. Weasley." the diminutive professor spoke. "I don't know how or why you picked it up, while I know that one of his applications is used in a rather... frowned upon, branch of magic. If I were to know for certain that you were studying it, I'd have to report it. I have no interest in stopping your... extracurricular studies, after all I often try to encourage my students to broaden their topics of research. However, I must suggest caution."
Ron blinked, schooling his expression, he was used to oblique statements thanks to his talks with Dumbledore, so he could hardly miss the intended message. Do not openly use Occlumency tricks in front of the professors.
He nodded gratefully to his Head of House and rose from his seat. "Thank you for your time, professor." Ron smiled.
The Charms Master smiled in kind and flicked his wand, opening the door silently.
"Was that a non verbal summoning charm professor?" The young student asked.
"Reading ahead are we, mr. Weasley?" The half goblin chuckled. "Well, not quite, I did not think the incantation accio, nor I gave a name to the spell. It was more intent driven magic." and before Ronald could start asking questions the professor went on speaking: "Something that it's far to advanced until your sixth year at the earliest, mr. Weasley. You may go, now."
Recognizing a dismissal, Ron hastly nodded and left the wonderful office. It had been a fruitful meeting. He had choosen the electives that he would be attending, he had decided that he would try and gain twelwe OWLs, he had been given an important advice about keeping hidden his Occlumency tricks, and he found a new thing to research.
He walked along a corridor until a secret passage that was open only on odd days and walked down three separate flight of stairs, before ducking in into an alcove that was actually the beginning of a narrow corridor. At the end of it he turned on himself and walked up a flight of stairs that wasn't there a second before, and opened the third door on the right counting from the tall window that signalled the north of the circular room where the shy flight of stairs had led him to. "If nothing else, Hogwarts trains your memory." he told to himself.
The room he had entered was an unused classroom, and given the complex path one had to take to reach it, it was understandable.
The desks had been put together to form a massive table, and bunches of chairs had been roughly transfigured into benches, on which had been placed some kind of paddin ( that was actually transfigured curtains) where several people were already sitting.
"Hey Ron!" Terry noticed him first and waved him over the spot that he had left for his meeting with Flitwick, while the others greeted him.
Well, the others exeption made for Hermione, who had her nose deep into a big, old looking tome.
"How did it go?" asked Harry.
Ron shrugged "Well enough I guess. Hey, did you know that if you 'manage to impress the professor' you can take his NEWT in the june of your sixth year?"
At their speechless expressions (even Hermione had returned from her deep dive into her book), the first Weasley in Ravenclaw (of the last three generations at the very least), summed up his chat with Flitwick.
They remained silent for a while when Ron finished talking, each one going over his or her plans and thinking them again under the light of new information.
Padma started jotting down something, probably weighting good and bad things of her various possible choiches, while her sister simply shrugged and stayed firm on her choice of Divination and Care of Magical Creatures.
"Ron can we look over this? I'm not sure." Harry asked.
Recognizing a shady request to talk privately when he heard one, Ronald moved around the table until he flopped down between Harry and Hermione, who had scooted over to make him some space.
"What do you really want?" He asked to his Slytherin friend, who smiled sheepishly at having his plot immediately found out.
"He wanted to know what you'll take, obviously." Hermione sniffed, rolling her eyes at the attempted subterfuge.
Harry looked at her and shot a mock wistful smile, grabbing his heart in a false fainting scene.
He turned toward Ron and whined: "Oh, it seems it was only yesterday she couldn't recognize a lie if it punched her in the face, and look at her now. Did I get sloppy, or did I corrupt Her Gryffindorishness with my sly Slytherin ways? Tell me, oh wise Ravenclaw!"
He then assumed a desperate face that melted into a quiet laugh, and Ron joined him with a snort.
"I don't know, she would have learned on her own I think. In ten years, maybe twenty, but she w..." the ravenclaw stopped when hermione jokingly slapped him on the back of his head.
"Prats." She aptly put it.
"I'll sit in the lessons of Ancient Runes and Arithmancy." Ron whispered. And before his two friends could ask anything he went on: "But I'll try all the OWLs."
Harry's eyebrows rised higher on his forehead and Hermione's mouth opened in a little 'o' of surprise.
"Bill and Percy made it, so why can't I?" continued the Ravenclaw.
Hermione frowned deeply while Harry esitantly put a hand on his friend shoulder and exchanged a worried glance with the Gryffindor. "You don't have to do it just because your brothers did, you know?"
Ron shrugged: "It's not that." he denied. "I've spent a lot of time in Ottery, and the stuff muggles came up with is awesome, I've read loads about their history so I don't start from exactly zero. And besides, it's the place you two come from, you get to know this world, it's only right I can do the same."
That last statement killed every possible objection.
"What about Divination?" asked Hermione.
Ron grinned. "In for a penny... And that subject is a joke."
"Bullshit." Tracey Davis butted in, startling the trio.
But only for a second, Harry quickly recovered and pinched the bridge of his nose in an exasperated fashion muttering something about sneaking up on people, Hermione squealed "Language!" outraged, and Ron dumbly asked: "What?"
The eccentric Slytherin shot up from her seat and pointed her finger at the Ravenclaw, before answering:" Always call a shit, 'shit'. That subject isn't a joke, it's bullshit!"
She ignored the offended sounds the Patil twins let out and their stiff defense of the wonders of Divination to turn towards Harry. She shrugged in an uncaring way: "I am of a sneaky slytherin sort." she said, shotting down his previous comment.
She finally whirled on Hermione: "And you! I'll curse with all the motherfucking bad words I can fucking think of!"
The Gryffindor witch was speechless and assumed an hilarious horrified expression, Daphne Greengrass kept studying her book, her face blank, Terry was almost crying from the laughs, while the others were in a state between distaste, like Sunsan Bones and Hannah Abbot' scrunched noses showed, and appreciation, like Mandy's grin indicated.
Ron turned toward Harry, choosing to simply go with the flow: "Since it is a joke," he said, poitedly looking at Tracey, "I'll try to bullshit my way through it." he concluded, turning to lock his gaze with Hermione's one.
After the following collective laugh (even Hermione's lips had twitched upwards, which counted as a win in Tracey's book), the cursing Slytherin hopped on an empty bench and started walking over it like some kind of gymnast, and asked: "How come you want to take twelwe OWLs?"
The others turned with surprised expressions toward the redhead Ravenclaw, and Harry quipped in: "If you must overhear stuff not meant for you, Tracey, at least keep it secret."
"At least until you can use it for blackmail." Daphne added, with a predatory smile on her usually blank face.
Tracey snapped her fingers, liking the idea: "So, that's how it works!" she exclaimed.
"Ron, do my Astronomy essay or I'll tell everyone that you'll try for twelwe OWLs!" She threatened.
Ron theatrically face palmed: "Oh, no! Woe me!" He turned serious: "You just told everyone, Tracey. And I already let you blatantly copy my Astronomy homework."
"Well, shit. There goes my fucking brilliant plan." she replied with a defeated tone, and hopped down from the bench, staring sadly to her abandoned transfiguration essay.
Hermione rolled her eyes in an exasperated way and huffed. "I'll help you with transfiguration."
Tracey immediately lost her sad expression and raised both her arms into the sky: "That's fucking aweso..."
"Silencio!" Hermione jabbed her wand toward Tracey, that shrugged off the charm and kept going: "...me! Thank you so fu..." she was stopped by a hand placed on her mouth.
Hermione could be fast when she wanted, "I'll help you. If you stop cussing, it's horrible." she pleaded.
Peraphs wisely, Tracey locked her own mouth and made the gesture as to toss away the key.
Ron shook his own head tiredly but joined the general laughing before turning towards Harry. "So have you choosen your electives?"
He nodded, still smiling from the typical exchange between Hermione and Tracey. "Yeah, I'm going with Care of Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes, they seem kind of cool. Besides you have to admit that the cerberus and the Norbert were awesome."
Ron snorted. "It was a Norvegian Ridgeback, not a 'Norbert'." he repeated for what he felt was the thousandth time.
"I've never heard of a Ridgeback that has a teddy bear and recognizes 'Mummy', do you?" the spectacled wizard asked.
The Ravenclaw wisely choose to stop the old argument while he still remembered that it was Harry's strange way to rile him up.
"Listen, can you clarify the difference between Auror and Hit Wizard?" the Slytherin asked him out of the blue.
Before answering, Ron thought about the 'why' of the question. Since april, he had been trying to see most of his conversationas as a game of chess. Not to win anything out of it, but as he had read in Ottery's library, one starts learning through imitation, and he was determined to be the next Dumbledore.
He grinned with a conspiratory flair: "I'm not the only one with a secret idea about his career, uh?"
Whispering would have been an amateur's mistake, since the sudden lowering of a voice only grabbed attention. So Ron kept his carefree tone and usual volume, even if a bit dimmed, but that had meant that Daphne had been able to overhear him, and had shot them an intrigued glance.
Thankfully the others were busy discussing the merits of Divination and if it was really bullshit or not. Thank you Tracey. Ron thought.
Harry smiled sheepishly, Ron had talked about his possible career a few nights before, only to him and Hermione, shyly, quietly. Like he was afraid that speaking of such a vague idea too loudly would have made it disappear. Their Gryffindor friend still had no idea about what she wanted to do, but both the boys agreed that with a brain like hers, she could basically do whatever she wanted.
Even if she was still incensed with the 'knowing someone' process of the Ministry, and Ron feared that she would end up fighting it.
Harry had been vague like he was when he was trying to hide something, and his friends had let him be.
"Well Aurors are the equivalent of Muggle' policeman. But there are lot of different kind of works that you could br required to do, and following your talents you could end up like a proper investigator, a là Sherlock Holmes." Ron explained, remembering a book he read in Ottery's library.
"Or inspections, or patrolling, or training new recruits, or performing arrests. It's very... variegated." the Ravenclaw said.
"Hit Wizards have... higer profile targets, I guess they would be our soldiers. They guard Azkaban and if there was a dark wizard that locked himself into a fortress of some kind they would be the ones deployed to deal with it. Or a power hungry coven of sone kind. Or a Blood Lord, or a new Goblin Insurrection, or a war against another country. Even if with the ICW that should not be possible. Or a rampaging Shadow of Lethifolds. But that's not something that can realistically happen."
Noticing the dumbfounded expression of his friend, he cringed. "What among what I said was too alien-tongue?"
Harry started counting the things that had not made sense on his fingers, humming thoughtfully: "Let's see. A shadow of what? What's a Blood Lord? The ICW? And a coven?"
Daphne,who had been descrety eavesdropping the whole time raised her head and looked at him with a blank face. Harry noticed the moviment, and also noticed that it wasn't the normal 'blank', oh no. It was the unimpressed expression she assumed when she saw something extremely stupid. Arguably she used it equally often as her usual blank face, but Harry knew that it was mostly because in the Slythetin Common Room one could hardly not botice Crabbe or Goyle.
"What is the ICW?" she repeated with a drawl that was mesmerizing in its resemblance to Snape's one.
Having the blind, blue eyed witch channeling her inner Snape so perfectly sent Ron into a fit of giggles.
She the proceeded with a quiet voice in informing Harry, quietly but with unrelenting determination, about how deep his ignorance was, how he had probably a Crabbe as a distant ancestor, and concluded the magnificent tirade with: "And if you thought with a brain instead of the snitch you have between your ears, and about something different from quidditch, maybe you would have heard about the International Confederation of Wizards, after two whole years in the magical world."
Harry stared at her unblinking for the whole speech, and after her flamboyant conclusion he tilted his head. "I'm courious, have you been preparing this speech for a generic occasion and taylored it on the fly or have you been eavesdropping my conversation for the last month only for this... memorable... tongue lashing?" he asked with the same Snape copyrighted drawl.
That was too much for Ron, who almost fell from the bench, laughing out loud.
After a while he managed to calm down, and the others had been pestering the two slytherins about what happened to have Ron rolling on the floor, but the two had hid behind a thick curtain of dignified silence.
When the attention of everyone was once again dedicated to their own homework, and Ron managed to stop laughing, Daphne rolled her eyes and closed the textbook she was using to conplete her assignment. She was always the first to complete her homework, after Hermione obviously.
"A Blood Lord is a very old, very powerful vampire, usually at the head of a coven. We spoke of a witches coven in History of Magic,not my fault you couldn't be bothered to listen. And there are schools of fishes, parliaments of owls, and shadows of lethifolds. Which are the ugly version of dementors I guess." she said.
And before Harry could ask she added: "Dementors are those guarding Azkaban." her cold voice made clear that she disliked the topic, and Harry bullheaded through her displeasure, probably in revenge for the orevious tongue lashing. "What's a dementor?"
At which she snapped: "Find a book! Weasley, don't tell him!"
Ron mock bowed to the blonde slytherin, humbly accepting her order.
Harry, recognizing a lost battle when he saw one, shrugged and went back to the original topic.
"So the Hit Wizards are stronger than the Aurors?" he asked.
Ron and Daphne exchanged a confused glance, then the blond witch sighed, tiredly drawing little circles on her temples with her fingers: "Morgana and Circe save me from muggle raised stupidity." she muttered.
"Hey!" Harry protested.
"Sorry mate," Ron butted in, "But she's kind of right. Your question doesn't make one lick of sense." In the head of the ravenclaw, Magic is unique for each one was a lesson he had spent moths to understand.
"They simply work differently, the Aurors often have a lighter touch, and deal with less lethal situations, but Moody is an Auror and can toss around like ragdolls two Hit Wizards at any time." Ron explained.
And on that note, Mandy made everyone take notice of the time, and Ron quickly grabbed his stuff before joining his House mates that were leaving the room.
1993-04 juneRon left his bed in the middle of the night. He couldn't sleep. Actually, he could, but he kept waking up, apparently, lucid dreams were still beyond his grasp. Or maybe it was the fact that he felt that he had been on the verge of a world shattering revelation for a whole week already. And he couldn't afford to think about it during his end of year exams, do he was stressed because he wanted to understand it immediately, and he wanted it so badly that he couldn't stay asleep.
He thought about it some more. There was usually a connection between the incantation and the result. Lumos produced light, Point Me somehow turned your wand into a compass' needle, so in something sensible to the natural magnetic field of the planet. But that didn't sound quite right, in places heavily saturated with magic a muggle compass would simply go crazy. And an highly skilled user could use Point Me to find even objects if he knew them well enough and they were close.
Magicals didn't run around screaming nonsense. Well, usually. In fact, magic seemed had rules. Arithmancy was apparently about studying the patterns that magic created in the tangible world.
And both Runes and Potions, from what Ron had learned in the library, only worked because certain rules were followed. Magic had some logic behind it. Why shouldn't the same be true for spells? Perhaps there was some rule about incantations having to be stupid or punny. So either a god with a strange sense of humor made it so, or there was something Ron was missing. Who or what decided the incantations to have them match the intended effect so well? The most likely candidate was the Ministry. Perhaps there was a Department dedicated to registering all the spells in the world? But what about new ones, created in secret? The twins had boasted about inventing spells as well. So, no, a Department to document all magic and link it to their incantations didn't sound right. Perhaps the inventor did it. He decided the results, put the spell down in writing, and by doing so, he created a piece of magic? Ron found no answer, so he moved on to the next question: What did they do? They were important, obviously, but why?
Incantations were important, Ron and everyone knew it, then he remembered a snippet from his one of his talks with Dumbledore. "If something is in our heads then it's very real. Sometimes even more tangible than what you are used to call reality." he repeated to himself.
Waving or pointing the wand and saying something produced the result. Maybe they were orders, he mused. But if so, who had to follow them? Instructions for magic to do, Lumos equalling the order to light the tip of the wand? Unless magic could read minds (which, now that he thought about it, was actually very likely) it couldn't be meant for something outside of the caster's head, otherwise nonverbal magic shouldn't work.
What about deaf wizards or witches? Ron bet that they could still learn magic. What about non verbal magic? Or the raw intent driven magic Flitwick had used on his door at the beginning of the year?
It went back to intent, Ron decided. Magic is intent. He thought, with the same determination he thought about the unique quality of everyone's magic. He felt that another piece had fell into place, like when he was translating from latin, and suddenly the period flowed.
Maybe the incantation helped create the magic? Something like a form, a container to fill with the caster's magic? That way, the incantation and wand movements would define the shape of the spell. That sounded nice, but very much like something Luna would say.
Orders, then. It made sense, or about as much as magic usually did. Someone had decided on a specific incantation as the order for a specific spell leading to a specific result. It fit. But not really. An egiptian wizard would hardly use Expelliarmus as the incantation for a disarm charm.
Ron picked up his wand once more.
"Lumos," he said. The expected light appeared. "Nox."
"Wingardium Leviosa," he said, making a pillow fly around before cancelling the spell.
"Light!" he instructed next, and as expected, nothing happened. "Fly!" But the pillow stayed where it was.
He pointed the wand st his own shoes and chanted "Nodo." the laces followed his command and tied themselves. "Light up! Come to me! Come! Pull!" But nothing happened. As he waved his wand around, he tried whatever he could think of without effect. "Blast! Push! Shove!"
Nothing happened. Maybe he had to try something he was more familiar with, his mind went naturally to the fire making charm.
Ron used occlumency to root himself in the moment, and like he had done every night he pointed his wand to the candle on his desk, ignoring wand movements, he focused and ordered: "Burn!" pouring all of himself into the spell.
Suddenly, Ron felt his wand jerk, and the candle went up in a blaze of fire that rose higher than Ron's head.
For a moment, Harry gazed at the fire that had suddenly sprung up only to die half a second later. Then, his mind started working again. He had done it! Against all odds and everything he had been taught, he had cast a spell with a wrong incantation!
He stilled. "Bloody hell." he muttered, "I broke Magic."
