𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐇 | 𝐓𝐇𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 1

Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve-Defense Against the Dark Arts

Harry heard the students assemble and he nearly bounded from his study. He scanned them as he stood at the top of the pulpit stair. Trotting down, they looked up at him with bright eyes and smiles. He smiled back. "Good morning, everyone."

"Good morning, Professor Potter," they chorused. He stopped. He hadn't expected that. Ducking his head to hide a smile, he drew up to the center of the room. "All have books, have you?" He suddenly changed his mind about the lesson. These were all fifth years and he wanted to give them something more substantial than just blocks. "Everyone put your books aside and...ah...let's move all these desks and chairs, shall we?"

The room erupted in a chaos of chair legs squealing and desks groaning across the wood floor. The students all stood anxiously, glancing at one another with anticipating smiles. Here was Harry Potter; Hero of the Wizarding World; Slayer of Voldemort. How could this not be good?

"I've decided to scrap the lesson I planned and try something else." He walked away from the students, pulled his wand, and whirled back. All of them lifted into the air, shocked that a teacher would have done such to them.

Harry lowered them slowly and once they reached the floor they all looked at one another chattering vigorously.

"Sir!" cried a tall, lank boy with sandy blond hair. "How where you able to lift all of us?"

"Is that how you defeated Voldemort?" asked a short-haired girl. All of them wanted to hear.

"Actually, he never expected me to pull a Muggle gun."

The room fell into utter silence.

Harry laughed. "I'm just kidding. Of course I didn't. But that's not far wrong. To defend against the dark arts, you must always use the unexpected. Certain blocks will be obvious as well as certain curses you will throw. You've got to come back with something entirely different. Throw your opponent off. Who wants to volunteer to duel me?"

A surprising number of hands rose. Harry chose a girl with braids standing in the front row. She looked back at her friends and stepped forward. "What's your name?"

"Felecia Rosencrantz, sir."

"Well, Miss Rosencrantz. This is what I want you to do. I want you to throw any disarming curse you know against me and be prepared to come back with another. Okay?"

"I don't want to hurt you, Professor."

"Don't worry. You'll never get a chance to."

Her face screwed up in concentration and she lifted her wand. She threw her arm forward and yelled, "Expelli-!"

Harry flicked his wand-his curse non-verbal-and above her, a very large ice cream sundae appeared and dropped on her head. The room erupted with laughter. She was so shocked she never sent the second curse. She stood, shoulders stooped, melting ice cream dribbling down her back.

Harry swished his wand and instantly cleaned her. "Well," he said chuckling. "You get the idea. You're a good sport, Rosencrantz. But you see, that was so entirely unexpected that even if your opponent was bent on killing you, the surprise factor would have been such to give you that edge, those few seconds you would need to either defeat them or get away."