"Magnificent Aguamenti, Mr. Ken!"
Lockhart clapped enthusiastically, praising at the top of his voice. "Just look at that—this is the strength of the hero who defeated Voldemort! By third year they've already mastered spells at a sixth-year level, and Mr. Shafiq is hardly inferior at all… Though I still must say, your intentions were far too obvious. Anyone could seize the rhythm and counterattack. If it were me—"
"I don't believe that last move was Aguamenti, Professor Lockhart."
Snape calmly cut in from the side, arms crossed. "It was merely a standard application of increasing water pressure. The water that burst out showed clear signs of Transfiguration—and it's already reverted to stone."
"Ahem, I meant—"
Snape didn't bother listening to Lockhart's flustered attempt at recovery. With a flick of his wand, the battered duelling platform instantly restored itself to pristine condition.
"Generally speaking, duelling platforms are specially reinforced to ensure that both sides engage in a straightforward, open confrontation. Strictly speaking, your methods do not qualify as proper duelling."
"Although they don't conform to standard rules… given your level—"
Those standing nearby were stunned to see Snape's lips curve upward.
"…not bad."
"…Am I hallucinating?"
Ron rubbed his eyes. "Snape actually smiled while praising someone?!"
"Is he under a Confundus Charm?" Harry was equally incredulous. Ever since the start of term, he'd had the vague feeling that Snape wasn't quite as vicious as last year—but his overall impression of the man hadn't really changed.
"I'm more concerned about those two's level…"
Hermione nudged Percy beside her. "How do they compare to you?"
"Very strong," Percy replied seriously. "Their strength would put considerable pressure on me, and I'm not well suited to that kind of insidious fighting style… If I dueled them, I couldn't guarantee a win."
"And don't forget—they're only in third year. I certainly wasn't at that level back then."
"Merlin…"
Hermione covered her face. "I remember we… might have tried to fight him once…"
Harry and Ron froze—then promptly flushed red as well. They remembered it too: last year, after suspecting Snape of trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone, the three of them had once attempted to ambush Avada…
Good thing they hadn't gone through with it.
"Alright."
Lockhart's voice rang out again. "You've all seen the wonderful demonstration. Now, let us begin learning today's first spell—the Disarming Charm that Professor Snape used just now."
"As you saw, that spell caused me to lose my wand. And a wizard without a wand has almost no chance against one who still has theirs… unless the gap between them is truly enormous—like myself, of course, who is confident I could defeat most of you here even without a wand."
"Now I'd like to invite two students onto the stage to assist Professor Snape and me in our teaching and provide a demonstration—Mr. Longbottom and Mr. Finnigan, how about it?"
"That's not a good idea, Professor Lockhart," Snape said flatly, sweeping down from the platform like an enormous bat, his black robes billowing. "Teaching Longbottom this spell would likely take half a term, and I doubt the students below are willing to wait that long. And if you let him cast freely, I can't be sure whether he or Finnigan would reach the hospital wing first."
Neville's round pink face turned even redder.
"What about Malfoy and Potter?" Snape sneered. "My favored student and the Boy Who Lived—twice victorious over the Dark Lord. I think they'd get along just fine."
"Splendid! Then Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy, please come forward, and Professor Snape and I will each teach you how to use the Disarming Charm."
Harry bounded onto the platform and glanced at Malfoy—who seemed oddly reluctant.
'What's going on? Doesn't he want a chance to show off?' Harry wondered. 'Is he scared because I beat Voldemort again? But everyone knows the real contributors were Ken and Baron…'
Still puzzled, Harry found Lockhart already at his side.
"Come along, Harry, I'll teach you."
"When I count to three and you're allowed to cast, just do this—"
Lockhart waved his wand about without any discernible pattern, stamping his feet in a chaotic rhythm and producing a series of thudding noises. "Like that. Got it?"
"..."
Harry rolled his eyes and turned to watch Snape's instruction instead. Even though he couldn't hear what Snape was saying, he could observe his movements—and he still remembered the incantation.
A strange sensation flowed from his wand into his arm. It was as if the wand itself were telling him: You can try.
As Snape finished his explanation, Malfoy finally turned around, fixing Harry with a cool gaze—so cold that Harry nearly forgot he was facing an old enemy with a long-standing grudge.
"Now—bow!"
Harry hadn't planned to bow to Malfoy, but seeing him actually incline his body, Harry paused in surprise and then returned a shallow bow.
"Remember, no other spells. You are only permitted to use the Disarming Charm to remove your opponent's weapon…"
After the reminder, Lockhart patted Harry on the shoulder. "Just do exactly what I demonstrated, Harry!"
"One—two—"
Harry stared intently at Malfoy's every movement. He was certain that with Malfoy's underhanded nature, he'd strike before the count reached three…
"Three—begin!"
'He's actually following the rules?'
Harry's surprise made him hesitate for a split second—and that was enough for Malfoy to seize the initiative.
He raised his wand and shouted at Harry, "Expelliarmus!"
There was a dull pop from Malfoy's wand, followed by a few red sparks—like a short-circuited wire. Snape's expression darkened noticeably.
Jolted awake by Malfoy's incantation, Harry immediately raised his wand. He desperately recalled Snape's motions and pronunciation, letting that instinct surge through his arm again, guiding his hand and wand—
"Expelli… armus!"
A brilliant red beam shot from Harry's wand tip, slamming squarely into Malfoy's chest and sending him flying backward!
At the same time, Malfoy's hawthorn wand traced a graceful arc through the air and landed neatly in Harry's hand.
"I… did it?"
Staring at the familiar wand, Harry could hardly believe it—this was the first spell he'd ever cast successfully on the first try.
And he'd learned it by observation alone. No one had actually taught him.
"Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!!"
Lockhart was practically bouncing with excitement, completely oblivious to Snape's increasingly stormy expression. "A perfect Disarming Charm, Harry! What extraordinary talent you have… Of course, that's also thanks to my excellent instruction, which brought your talent to the surface! Ha-ha—well done, Severus!"
Snape gave an annoyed snort and flicked his wand.
Harry felt a powerful force yank Malfoy's wand from his grip, dragging it roughly into Snape's hand before it was returned to Malfoy, who had just picked himself up off the floor.
Clutching his wand, Malfoy shot Harry a venomous glare, then fled the platform in disgrace—without even leaving behind a single threat.
(End of Chapter)