Tuesday morning, in the Defense Against Dark Magic classroom.
The sixth-year lesson was about to begin.
For once, the back rows of the classroom were packed.
They were visiting students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, sitting in on the lesson.
Pheobe sat with her female companions, her bearing elegant.
Her gaze swept over the slogans written in Gothic script on the walls.
"Hesitation is a gift to your enemy."
"The speed of your spells determines your chances of survival."
A smile curved her lips, appraising but also dismissive.
Krum and several Durmstrang students occupied the corner on the other side.
They sat bolt upright, their expressions grave, like scouts preparing to assess enemy forces.
Douglas walked into the classroom.
He gave the guests in the back rows a casual nod by way of greeting.
"Today's topic is once again the application of Nonverbal Spells under combat pressure."
He got straight to the point, his voice relaxed.
"I know we have many guests here today. I hope you won't find this lesson boring."
The first half of the lesson consisted of routine Nonverbal Spell sparring.
Under Douglas's guidance, the Hogwarts students practiced rapid transitions between attack and defense.
"Protego!"
"Expelliarmus!"
Silent spells flew back and forth between the students, their light flashing.
Pheobe watched them cast their nonverbal Shield Charms.
Although they were proficient, their magical output was mediocre, and the power was limited.
Her disdain deepened a little more.
Krum, however, frowned slightly.
He noticed that these students' casting movements were pared down to the absolute minimum.
There were no unnecessary flourishes. Every raised hand, every flick of a wand, served combat alone.
"All right, warm-up's over."
Douglas clapped his hands. It was not loud, but all practice stopped.
"Looks like routine sparring-time to raise the intensity."
He turned toward the