Chapter 59. The Start of the Fourth Year – 3
After everyone had caught up on sleep, the topic of the upcoming tournament hadn't gone away. Everyone who was anyone was discussing both the tournament itself and what the foreign students would be like. It wasn't particularly surprising that many Muggle-borns, and even some pure-bloods who weren't big on reading beyond the set curriculum, had somehow never given much thought to the fact that Hogwarts wasn't the only school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world.
Naturally, this led to a flood of comparisons. The general curricula of the schools were known, after all. While some viewed the French with skepticism (which, given the centuries of rivalry between France and Britain, was hardly surprising), no one intended to show any disdain towards Durmstrang. The Slytherins were especially notable in this regard, as they liked the fact that Durmstrang officially taught the Dark Arts—granted, with some exceptions. Though it was possible that students in other houses simply didn't dare voice similar thoughts out loud. Slytherin was already so steeped in stereotypical opinions that it had largely become a self-fulfilling prophecy, which meant they weren't ashamed to talk about such things.
As for us, we allowed ourselves a bit of fun with Harry by acting like omniscient prophets who refused to reveal any details, even though we didn't actually learn about his participation through our gift. We only used the gift to confirm his involvement afterward.
Unfortunately, despite its remarkable accuracy and usefulness, our prophetic visions often lacked crucial details. For example, we had no idea how much pain we would experience when embedding the rapier artifacts into our very souls, yet we knew it would work because we foresaw that we'd be perfectly healthy after the ritual. In this sense, when we view past events, the level of detail is exponentially greater.
So, Harry ended up chasing after us, trying to figure out by what twist of fate he would become a champion, but not for Hogwarts. However, he soon gave up on the fruitless questioning and instead threw himself into combat magic, increasingly frequenting the Dueling Club's training area. Ron followed suit, completely losing himself in dreams of becoming a champion, conveniently forgetting about the age restriction. Though we had to admit, Ron wasn't a bad dueler—he was at least on par with the seventh-years.
To be honest, we'd cooled off a bit towards the club ourselves. The gap between us and the other participants was just too vast. Not only could we win perfectly well using standard spell combinations, but there was also the growing awareness that the spells and abilities tied to our self-experimentation would be far more effective and much more dangerous in a real fight.
Why bother with Stunners when you could simply drain the heat from an opponent? If they didn't know a specific protective magic to shield themselves, they'd quickly become a frozen corpse. Or, one could take a more theatrical route—slightly less efficient, but thanks to our sheer brute magical power—conjure an enormous construct of ice, which a regular Bombarda max would only manage to chip a small piece off of, and even that damage would quickly mend, and then literally crush the enemy under the weight of super-strong, incredibly cold magical ice. All in all, classic magical duels were starting to seem rather dull to us. So, we only occasionally showed up with the others for company.
And, as it turned out, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was actually quite competent as a teacher. Apart from his hidden motives and loyalty to the Dark Lord, of course.
Each Defense professor's classroom was different, as each decorated it their own way. When Quirrell taught, he liked to hold lessons in semi-darkness with heavy curtains drawn. Under Lockhart, the room was bright, and his portraits were everywhere. During Lupin's tenure, the classroom constantly changed, as he went all out trying to procure some dark creature to teach the students how to deal with it firsthand. And now, Septimus Selwyn was teaching. Once again, the curtains were drawn, keeping out the sunlight, but the room was well-lit thanks to ample magical lighting. The classroom was furnished like the most ordinary classroom—with desks, chairs, a teacher's desk, a blackboard, and a small space for demonstrations. At the same time, the man himself resembled a more elegant and handsome version of Snape.
"Today, we will cover the most fundamental things any witch or wizard must know and master to survive. Just three spells—and you will no longer be helpless sheep; you will at least be able to attempt to defend yourselves."
"Would anyone care to venture a guess as to what these spells might be?" He swept his attentive gaze across the class, and soon a couple of hands went up.
"Mr. Crabbe? Go ahead," he said, completely ignoring the Gryffindors and calling on Crabbe, who, surprisingly, had raised his hand confidently.
"What spell, in your opinion, might be one of the three undoubtedly crucial for self-defense?"
"Avada—"
"Ahem." The man immediately cut the teenager off, realizing he might have called on the wrong person. "Allow me to remind you, we are discussing permissible spells at the moment." Though mentally, he had to agree with the boy. After all, what better way to defend against an enemy than their death?
"Umm..." Crabbe hesitated, and Malfoy immediately started whispering something to him.
"Prot?" the boy quickly whispered back, receiving a slightly annoyed but swift reply. "Protego, sir."
"Correct. Five points to Slytherin. You may sit down."
"And so, the protective charm Protego." Selwyn waved his wand, and an inscription appeared on the blackboard:
Protego.
"Why is this charm so important? It's rather obvious. It can block most known charms and curses, with some exceptions. That is precisely why this charm can buy you those crucial split-seconds where very, very much can be decided."
"Who can tell me the second spell on the list?"
This time, many more hands shot up, but he didn't call on a Slytherin again.
"Mr. Potter? Please."
"If the first essential spell is a shield, then the second should be something that can pierce that shield. Reducto."
"Absolutely correct, Mr. Potter. It's quite natural to expect that you won't be the only one capable of defending, so a spell is needed that could help breach such a shield. A more focused Reducto is better suited for this than Bombarda, although the outcome will still depend on the wizard's power. However, I strongly advise caution when using this spell against other wizards. Carelessness could land you in Azkaban just as easily as an Unforgivable."
"Five points to Gryffindor. Sit down, Mr. Potter."
"And finally, the third spell. Mr. Malfoy? Please."
"The Disarming Charm. It's very fast and relatively harmless, and there are very few wizards who can fight effectively without their wands," the blond answered confidently.
"Exactly right. Five points to Slytherin," announced Selwyn, and Malfoy shot a smug look at Harry before taking his seat.
A third inscription appeared on the board:
Expelliarmus.
To be honest, we found his lessons boring, much like most of our other classes. After all, we already knew all this stuff. But we had to admit that, at least during lessons, he didn't seem like a complete lunatic. He did show slightly more loyalty towards Slytherin than was appropriate, but it seemed like he was deliberately trying to make a good impression on Harry by encouraging him.
And so, studies proceeded quite calmly, without anything particularly interesting, aside from watching the professors prepare both the students and the castle for the arrival of the guests, who were to spend the entire school year at Hogwarts.
Soon, October was approaching, and with it, the day of the guests' arrival.