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"Alright, let's head inside."
Standing in front of the portrait, Richie looked dead at the blue vase and delivered the password:
"Do you know why the ocean is blue?"
"..."
"Because whenever someone drowns, they go: blue, blue, blue~"
"Uh..." The three Gryffindors stared at him, completely stunned.
Did that joke just sound... incredibly messed up?
Neville pictured himself drowning in the ocean and involuntarily shivered. I mean, technically, the sound of seawater rushing into your lungs probably did sound exactly like blub, blub, blub...
Suddenly, the blue vase in the painting began to shake. The portrait swung open, revealing the wooden door.
Richie pushed it open and walked in. Hermione and the boys quickly filed in behind him.
The classroom was exactly as they had left it yesterday. The group walked over to the makeshift desks and set their things down.
Having successfully coached Neville through his mental block, Richie felt pretty confident handling Seamus.
However, much to Richie's surprise, Seamus's issue had absolutely nothing to do with a lack of confidence. The issue was...
Richie coughed, waving his hand to clear the thick cloud of black smoke from his face.
"Another explosion?"
Seamus offered a highly apologetic, sheepish grin. His face was entirely covered in soot, making him look absolutely ridiculous.
Richie just sighed and hit him with a quick Scouring Charm.
Richie had just asked Seamus to demonstrate a spell. To his absolute shock, Seamus had attempted the Levitation Charm and the Mending Charm back-to-back, and both of them had violently exploded in his face.
"I read about a case like this," Hermione chimed in.
Seeing everyone look at her, she lifted her chin and launched into her explanation. "It was in the autobiography of a medieval wizard. When he was young, absolutely every spell he tried to cast would turn into a massive explosion. Because of the constant collateral damage, he was discovered by Muggles and forced into exile."
"He eventually escaped the country and hid in a remote valley. After years of studying his own magic, he realized he wasn't inherently limited to explosion spells. The actual issue was that his magical output was incredibly unstable. The structural framework of the spell couldn't handle the erratic surges of magic. Before the spell could properly form, the magic overloaded it, causing it to collapse and detonate."
#### The Balloon Hypothesis
Unstable magical output?
Listening to Hermione's summary, Richie's brain immediately went into overdrive.
Magic, at its core, was an incredibly abstract concept. It was a lot like physical stamina: you couldn't see it or touch it, but if you used too much of it, you felt physically exhausted.
The general consensus was that a young wizard's magical reserves naturally grew as they aged, eventually stabilizing in adulthood.
But the specific phenomenon Hermione just described perfectly aligned with a theory Richie had recently read in Dead Limbs[cite: 5]: The Magical Balloon Hypothesis.
The theory was actually pretty straightforward. It compared casting a spell to blowing up a balloon.
The "spell" itself was the balloon. In the current magical system, everyone had access to the exact same types of balloons—same color, same shape, same material.
"Casting" the spell was the act of blowing air into that balloon.
The "air" being injected was a mixture of different elements. The vast majority of it was raw magic, while the remaining fraction consisted of [Other] variables. (Based on Richie's own understanding, these [Other] variables were the incantation, the wand movement, conscious intent, and emotional state. Though, to be fair, the book never actually explained how the "balloons" were created in the first place, nor did it explain why altering the [Other] variables caused catastrophic failures).
The actual process of injecting the air represented a wizard's precise control over their raw magic and the [Other] variables.
A successful spell meant you properly inflated a perfectly shaped balloon.
A failed spell meant you either didn't blow hard enough to inflate it, or you blew too hard and violently popped it.
If you applied that hypothesis to Seamus, the answer was obvious: he was aggressively over-inflating his balloons until they exploded. Seamus had absolutely zero precision control over his magical output.
If that's really the case...
To fix Seamus's problem, they had to teach him how to throttle his raw magic.
Having connected the dots, Richie quickly laid out the Magical Balloon Hypothesis for the group.
Unfortunately, Hermione was the only one who actually understood a word of it.
"That perfectly explains Seamus's situation!" Hermione's eyes lit up. "Richie, where did you read that theory? I definitely need to borrow that book."
Richie explicitly warned her that it was a highly abstract, unproven hypothesis, but he gave her the title anyway.
Meanwhile, Seamus just blinked in sheer confusion, having entirely missed the point. "So... you want me to practice blowing up actual balloons?"
Richie let out a long, heavy sigh. "Seamus, please. Read a book once in a while. Read the newspaper. Eat less candy. Get more sleep."
"It's a metaphor. Do not actually go find balloons. What you need to do is train your magical control."
"As for how we actually do that..." Richie paused, quickly formulating a basic training regimen. "We're going to use the Wand-Lighting Charm. You're going to practice it until you can maintain a perfectly stable, constant level of brightness. Once you can do that without it flickering or exploding, you'll officially have control over your magic."
Hearing Richie's plan, Seamus's face flushed red. "But I can't even cast it. I tried during the practical test this morning, and it didn't work at all."
Richie shook his head. "I bet you failed because you were terrified of causing another explosion. You subconsciously tried to throttle your magic, but you overcompensated. You didn't output enough power to actually ignite the spell."
"What you need to do right now is calm down, focus, and genuinely try to cast Lumos. Pay attention to how it feels, and constantly adjust your output based on what happens. Try it right now."
Seamus hesitated, looking over at Neville.
"You've got this, Seamus! Believe in yourself!" Neville said, patting him firmly on the shoulder.
"O-okay..." Seamus slowly raised his wand.
Don't panic... don't panic...
He muttered the mantra under his breath, but the memory of the explosion from two minutes ago flashed in his mind. His hand gave a violent twitch as he hastily rushed the incantation:
"Lumos!"
Poof.
A muffled sound echoed from his wand.
It didn't actually explode this time (mostly because the Wand-Lighting Charm was an incredibly low-level spell), but a pathetic wisp of white smoke sputtered out of the tip of his wand.
Seamus instinctively flinched, waiting to get yelled at. Instead, he heard encouragement.
"Not bad. The wand movement was a mess, but at least we got a reaction," Richie said, offering a calm smile. "Based on the smoke, you still pushed way too much power into it and popped the balloon."
"From here on out, it's just repetition, Seamus. You have to keep practicing until you find the exact right balance. And hey, if we genuinely can't figure it out, we'll just go ask a professor for help."
"Don't stress about the immediate results; the process is what matters. If you put in the right work, the results will naturally follow."
Hermione immediately jumped in, seizing the opportunity to instruct. "And don't aggressively shake your wand! It's one smooth motion. Watch your angle. Like this."
Just like she had with Neville the night before, Hermione expertly demonstrated the exact wand movement.
"You can do it, Seamus! If I can figure it out, you definitely can!" Neville cheered.
Hearing their unwavering support, Seamus felt a massive wave of warmth in his chest. "Alright! I'm going to keep practicing!"
Determined, he marched over to the far corner of the room to start his drills.
At Richie's suggestion, the other three actively ignored Seamus, diving into their own homework so they wouldn't accidentally pressure him by watching his every move.
And so, while the rest of the study group quietly worked, Seamus stood alone in his corner, relentlessly grinding his specialized training.
"Lumos!"