In your mind you are free

.

September 1988

.

Simon Simmons didn't like Charms class. Or any class that used spells actually. But Potions was a nightmare thanks to Professor Snape and Herbology rather boring (he wasn't a fan of plants).

So, he had to endure another year at Hogwarts, his sixth now, and hopefully, it wouldn't be so miserable like the last years – the jokes had to get old eventually, didn't they?

"Hey, Thimon Thimmonth! Had a nithe thummer?" a Gryffindor boy called him and laughed.

Apparently not.

Simon sighed and tried o ignore the laughs. The group around him, all waiting for Professor Flitwick's class, looked uncomfortable, but no one intervened.

He had been lisping since his birth and wherever he went, people made fun of him. Hogwarts was no exception, of course, though the teachers tried to help him whenever they overheard the ridicule. But his classmates were crafty and only whispered the insults or shouted when no teacher could hear them. Lisping was not so uncommon, but most children stopped eventually when they grew. Simon, however, was 15 and still lisped like a 4-year-old. He had seen Madam Pomphrey because of his problem and she even had an idea how to get rid of it, but his parents had forbidden it.

"You are who you are," his father had said. "And we don't want you to change."

His mother had nodded and hugged him.

Simon was grateful for the unconditional love of this parents, but most of the year he spent at Hogwarts with no real friends. At least he was in Ravenclaw and not Thlytherin…

In that moment, Professor Flitwick opened the door to his classroom and welcomed them inside.

Simon shuffled along and sat down at his usual seat in the last row. Along with his new charms book he got a list out of his backpack. A list of spells that have an S in them and for which he was trying to find alternatives without his least favourite letter. He still remembered his first Charms lessons very clearly: they were supposed to try the rather easy spell Wingardum Leviosa to make a feather levitate. Professor Flitwick had reminded them to pronounce every spell clearly and correctly, for the consequences could be severe. "Never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest," he had told them in his easy manner.

All around Simon, the students had started to say the incantation and after a while, the first feather was in the air. Simon had remained silent until Professor Flitwick stood in front of him.

"Now you, Mr Simmons."

Simon knew that it was a waste of time to explain his predicament, so he raised his wand and hoped that nothing too bad would happen. "Wingardium Leviotha!" His feather turned purple; the class laughed.

"Oh dear," Flitwick made. "Don't worry, Mr Simmons, we'll find a solution." It was Professor Flitwick who had encouraged him to see Madame Pomphrey and he who helped Simon with alternative spells. But often there were no real alternatives. It was easy to use Expelliarmus instead of Stupefy and not so many spells had an S in the first place (like Accio or Alohomora) but he couldn't even use Lumos or Petrificus Totalus or defeat a Boggart (Riddikulus).

Professor Flitwick stood in front of the class now and smiled at them. "It is wonderful to see you again and I hope you had great summer holidays. Now then, you are finally NEWT students which means that we are going to learn something new that will benefit you in all situations." He discreetly winked at Simon, before announcing to the class: "Nonverbal spells."

Simon looked up interested.

"Nonverbal spells," the professor continued, "are spells that are not spoken but only thought – and in your mind you are free." He smiled at Simon who returned the smile. "Well then, let's try it."

Professor Flitwick had brought the feathers back with which they had trained Wingardium Leviosa all those years ago. Now they had to try it again – but silently.

Simon felt nervous as he pointed his wand at the feather because he didn't want to fail again but this could actually work – in his mind he pronounced the words correctly. He took a deep breath and concentrated. Wingardium Leviosa, he thought – and suddenly his feather moved. It didn't fly yet but it reacted. With new confidence Simon tried again and yes, this time the feather floated into the air.

Around him his classmates stopped to stare at him. No one had succeeded with nonverbal spells yet, not even Carol, the best of their year.

"Well, done!" Professor Flitwick cheered and came to Simon. "I knew you had it in you. Now everything is possible for you."

Simon beamed.