"Similarly, the incantations and movements of a spell serve a specific purpose," Professor Flitwick explained, clearing his throat. After such a long lecture, he was becoming noticeably parched. "Precise gestures and pronunciation allow wizards with lower magical sensitivity to master spells faster and with much less effort. You must realize that in the era before wizards utilized wands, wandless magic was the only way."
"I see." Alan nodded, reflecting on his years of solitary training and arduous practice. It seemed that this focus had not only made his total magical capacity greater than that of his peers, but his sensitivity had also been honed far beyond the norm.
"Indeed. As you saw today, almost all the first-years found it incredibly difficult to produce a result. That is because their raw perception of magic has been dampened by the introduction of the wand. Compared to their childhood, when they could occasionally trigger accidental magic, they are now experiencing a perceptual gap. This makes the initial stage of learning crucial. If we aren't careful, a student might feel that casting is becoming harder, leading to pessimism—and as you know, emotions are a vital component of successful magic."
Flitwick leaned back slightly. "A talented young wizard might quickly master a spell or two after getting a wand, but it is usually a gradual climb. As a wizard matures toward the age of thirty, their reserves, control, and sensitivity all peak. Learning and casting naturally become simpler over time. Therefore, while skillfully using a few spells is impressive, mastering the entire first-year curriculum and performing consistent silent casting before your first week is over... that proves you are very unusual."
The Professor looked at Alan with a sincere, searching gaze. "So, can you tell this old man about it? This is quite important for my research into spell development. I hope you can forgive my prying; I am simply consumed by curiosity."
Alan considered his response. Professor Flitwick had been remarkably candid and had resolved several long-standing doubts Alan held about his own abilities. There was no reason to keep everything a secret.
"Thank you, Professor. Actually, the reason I can perform silent casting so early might be simpler than you think. It all stems from my childhood," Alan said, choosing his words carefully to share only what was necessary.
Flitwick listened with rapt attention.
"As you know, I grew up in an orphanage. That environment forces you to become independent quite young. When I was about seven, I started noticing unusual things happening around me. What you called magical outbursts—objects would suddenly float or shift when I was emotional."
Flitwick nodded in recognition.
"I was terrified at first. Being in the Muggle world, no one could tell me what was happening. So, I kept it a secret and began to study this power myself. I thought I had some kind of superpower, like in the stories. I was nervous, but mostly I was excited, so I spent years trying to control it. It was grueling at first, but I was patient."
Alan paused, a distant look in his eyes. "Sometimes I look back and find it incredible. I would sit and stare at a cup for an entire day, trying to mobilize that internal energy. I didn't even have a concept of the word magic back then."
Professor Flitwick raised his eyebrows, fascinated by the boy's discipline.
"Perseverance eventually paid off. I can't remember how many thousands of times I practiced, but one day, I finally caught the feeling and made a cup move. I memorized that sensation and practiced it every single day until my Hogwarts letter arrived. I never stopped."
Then, as Flitwick watched with an astonished expression, Alan gave a subtle wave of his hand. Several books on a nearby desk rose quietly into the air, hovering in perfect formation.
"Good heavens... that is true wandless magic!" Flitwick whispered, his eyes shining.
"Through those years, the release became effortless. I even tried to deepen my control through weighted training—trying to lift heavier things—and delayed training. I believe that constant focus is what made me so sensitive to the flow of magic. When I finally got my wand from Professor McGonagall, I experienced that same decrease in sensitivity you mentioned. Using the wand made everything stable and smooth, but it felt... muffled. It took some practice to bridge the gap, but because I already knew the feeling of raw magic, I was able to adapt."
Alan had purposely left out the details of his physical conditioning and meditation, knowing they would be too difficult to explain in a wizarding context.
"After that, learning other spells from the books became much easier. Though, truthfully, only the Levitation Charm is this effortless without a wand." He chose not to mention his proficiency with the Shield Charm just yet.
Professor Flitwick sat in silence for a moment, moved by the boy's story. It wasn't a tale of a shortcut or a hidden dark art, but one of sheer, diligent effort. He felt a sudden surge of admiration for the student sitting before him.
"Oh, Alan," Flitwick sighed with genuine regret. "You were practically born to be a Ravenclaw. How could that Sorting Hat have put you in Slytherin?"
*Because that tattered thing is petty,* Alan thought privately.