What Harry chiefly remembered afterwards was the simplicity. How he just had to say it.
Hermione talks sometimes about speech acts, about reality as a discursive construct, continually reenacted through them. Her lips quirked, one corner dry, the other wistful, her entire mouth wry. She said, and god said, let there be light.
Then she said, lumos.
Harry'd said, sectumsempra.
