I Am Dumbledore's Man

Rain lashed against the windows. Above, dark clouds churned endlessly beneath the Enchanted Ceiling. On the open ground below, the students of the Apparition Teaching Class stood in neat rows, five feet apart, with an Old Wooden Ring placed before each of them.

Ernie, Hufflepuff's prefect, set an example from the front row. He gripped his wand tightly in his right hand at his side, his back ramrod straight and every muscle in his body tensed.

He stared with all his might at the Wooden Ring before him, glaring at the dull gray circle of ground within it. His face had turned red, as though he wanted to bore a hole through the floor with his eyes.

The other students looked much the same. Many were shocked that they were being asked to Apparate so soon. Their heads were still muddled from being crammed full of explanations they had no time to digest, and they barely remembered the key points of the spell—destination, determination, deliberation, all of it had mostly slipped their minds.

They could only follow the instructor's commands instinctively.

"Listen for my command..."

Tykros shouted at the top of his lungs. He was unsurprised by the students' nervousness; it had been the same in previous years.

The Apparition teaching process had been refined through decades of experience. Those with talent would learn it no matter what, while those without talent could not be taught no matter how hard one tried. Overly profound theory would only muddle the students' minds. It was better to begin practicing right away.

A few Gryffindor students were acting strangely, though. Why were they all looking at the boy and girl on the far right?

With that question in mind, Tykros instinctively glanced toward the pair and called out in a deep voice, "Three...