"Worthy of a natural-born master of the Disarming Charm."
Down below, Avada rubbed his temples, inwardly marveling. To be honest, when it came to Defense Against the Dark Arts, Harry could be considered a prodigy. Nearly all combat-oriented spells—Shield Charm, Stunning Spell, Disarming Charm, Snape's own Levicorpus and Sectumsempra, even the Imperius Curse—he could learn quickly and use with ease. It was precisely because of this that he had become the leader of D.A.
Still, the image of him clashing head-on with the Killing Curse using the Disarming Charm was far too unforgettable…
Hm?
Avada suddenly felt as though something was targeting him.
He shook his head hard, trying to fling those messy thoughts out of his mind. "Still, Malfoy's performance today feels a bit off."
"In the original story, Malfoy didn't just sneak attack—he even cast Serpensortia to conjure a snake, forcing out Harry's Parseltongue. So why is he being so well-behaved this time?"
If he didn't have magical perception, Avada might have suspected Malfoy was being influenced by Voldemort's Horcrux diary. But under his observation, Malfoy's mental power showed no signs of external interference, and none of his belongings contained any extra soul fragments. He was simply extremely nervous.
Which, on second thought, made sense. Anyone who heard that their mortal enemy had just taken down their idol probably wouldn't be in a great mood. Add to that the recent string of fainting incidents, with Slytherin suffering the most casualties, and Malfoy's tension and restraint when facing Harry became only natural. Honestly, being able to stay arrogant under those circumstances would be the real sign of a problem…
"And that concludes the demonstration!"
Lockhart announced loudly and smugly, "Next, Professor Snape will explain the casting method of the Disarming Charm. I think it's only fair to give Professor Snape a chance to show that he can teach this spell properly—what just happened was simply because Mr. Malfoy was too nervous…"
Snape's hand had somehow found its way back onto his wand, veins bulging on the back of it.
"…Very well."
In the end, he stepped forward and began explaining, in a quiet yet crystal-clear voice, the casting method, applications, and several practical tips for the Disarming Charm. His explanation was well-organized and meticulous; if this were an actual Defense Against the Dark Arts class, it would have been a lesson of considerable value.
For some reason, however, the students listening all felt as if they'd fallen into an ice cellar the moment they heard Snape's voice. The entire Great Hall fell almost completely silent, with only Snape's voice echoing through it—like an oversized Potions class.
"…That is all. I hope enough of you possess brains that are not entirely useless to have understood what I said."
After Snape strode off the platform with a stony expression, Lockhart finally smiled again and spoke up, dispersing the oppressive atmosphere Snape had created.
"Excellent. With Professor Snape's explanation, I trust you all now have a preliminary understanding of the Disarming Charm. Next, I'll divide you into pairs to begin practicing the spell… Professor Snape, if you would assist me."
They moved through the crowd, pairing everyone up. Neville was matched with Justin; Harry naturally paired with Ron; Hermione went off to guide a still somewhat bewildered Ginny. Over in Hufflepuff, Cedric teamed up with Gabriel Truman, while Shabby was instructing Hannah Abbott. Baron had already been hauled off by Snape, the two of them muttering about something unknown…
"Hey, Ken! Want to have a go?"
George popped out of nowhere and enthusiastically invited Avada. "That bastard Fred ditched me to go find Angelina… And you know what? Percy just gave you a really high evaluation—he even thinks he might not be able to beat you for sure!"
"Sure."
Avada's headache had eased considerably, and there didn't seem to be any intense combat coming up, so he nodded, drew his wand, and stepped opposite George.
"Face your partners!" Lockhart shouted from the platform. "Bow, then raise your wands and prepare!"
"When I count to three, cast the Disarming Charm to remove your opponent's weapon—just disarm them. We don't want any accidents…"
"One—two—three—begin!"
At Lockhart's signal, the Great Hall instantly descended into chaos. First-years, who didn't know a thing, were throwing down their wands and brawling with fists and feet. Second- and third-years grimaced as their spells produced nothing but sparks. Fourth- and fifth-years were relatively normal, experimenting with the new spell they had just learned. As for the sixth- and seventh-years, they were having the time of their lives, launching advanced spells everywhere…
"I said, just disarm them!" Lockhart cried in horror from above—but by then, no one could hear him anymore.
Meanwhile, Avada and George had already mastered the Disarming Charm, so they quickly grew bored and began casually tossing each other's wands back and forth while chatting.
"I heard you and Fred have been investigating the fainting incidents. Any progress?" Avada asked, tossing George's wand back to him.
"Sadly, no. At this point, even we're starting to doubt whether it's a deliberate attack at all…"
With a disgruntled look, George fired a Disarming Charm that knocked Avada's wand away, then mimicked him and tossed it back. "To be honest, we've got a magical map that shows everyone's location in the castle. But we are fifth-years, after all—most of our energy is going into those blasted O.W.L.s. We can't watch the map twenty-four hours a day."
"So you gave up?"
"Not exactly. We got our hands on some magical film and a camera, set the map up in the dormitory, and used the camera to keep photographing it, recording all the moving images onto the magical film…"
"…That's a good idea."
"But," George sighed again, "in the end, we still didn't find anything. Almost all the fainting incidents happened in crowded places, and the people nearby showed no discernible pattern at all… We basically wasted half a month for nothing."
"At least you tried," Avada said sincerely, taking his wand back from George. His expression then fell. "So what's really going on? Are we seriously going to end up with everyone carrying a bottle of healing potion—so if someone suddenly collapses, they just get poured awake and continue class like nothing happened?"
"You know, that actually sounds kind of fun," George's eyes lit up. "I could mix Hair-Raising Potion into mine and see which poor sod keels over in front of me… But I guess that future won't come to pass. What a shame."
"Why's that?" Avada twitched at the corner of his eye, then asked out of curiosity.
"Eh? You didn't know? The Board of Governors has already started forming an investigation team and is preparing to step directly into Hogwarts. We're basically witnessing history here—Hogwarts has almost never seen the Board intervene in the school's day-to-day operations in over a thousand years! Outside, there are criticisms of Dumbledore everywhere. People think he can't even handle something like this, which means he's gone senile and should retire."
"Well, when you think about it, Dumbledore is over a hundred years old," Avada muttered. "That puts him among the oldest headmasters in Hogwarts' history…"
(End of Chapter)