Got you, Spencer thought, and it was something like triumph, feeling it give, got you, got you, and he raised his wand higher, arm shaking, and said, "Inspirare," and remembered someone telling him the original and literal meaning of the word, what felt like a hundred years ago.
Spencer thought of things growing, flowers pushing into the light, vines reaching for him, the first green sprouts in some of the ruined patches of Hogwarts after the war, and felt the bindrune giving beneath him. For a moment, there was a hard, tense pain around his ribs, like an iron band being squeezed tighter and tighter until Spencer was sure his bones would give under the pressure. He kept his wand held high and connected, though, arm shaking, and then something snapped and Spencer staggered backwards, breathing in properly for what felt like the first time in a month.