Dumbledore's Army and the Year of Darkness

Chapter 13: Snakebite

"Concentrate! It's the single most important thing in magic!" Neville rolled up his cuffs and leaned over Geoff Hooper, a Gryffindor fourth-year, adjusting the boy's grip so that the wand sat more firmly in his hand. "Trust your instincts, let yourself feel what's coming through the wand... especially with non-verbal combat. The moment they choose their spell, the magic is there, before it even leaves their wand, and if you're paying attention, you can feel it... it's like a song in the back of your head or just a gut knowing, and it gives you the chance to counter."

"There's no way!" Orla threw her wand to the floor in disgust, stamping her foot. "How am I supposed to pay attention to some 'gut feeling' and remember spells and concentrate on casting them non-verbally and watch my back and everything else you want us to do?!"

"You have to practice until you can stop thinking." He smiled gently, picking up the girl's wand and handing it back to her.

Anthony shook his head bemusedly, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. "That makes no sense. You just said concentrate."

"Actually, it does." Neville waved his wand, and a blackboard appeared on the wall. He picked up the chalk from the little groove at the base and held it out. "Anthony, take this and sign your name."

Frowning in confusion, the Ravenclaw took the chalk and stepped up to the board, signing his name across it quickly before turning back to the group, hands on his hips. "So?"

"Do you have any idea how complicated that was?" Neville asked.

Parvati laughed derisively. "He signed his name."

"Sure," Neville shrugged, "but you have to hold the chalk just so—which is totally different from how you hold a quill. You have to use enough pressure to make a good mark, but not enough that you snap it, even though it's fragile. You have to remember the shape of each letter, upper and lowercase, put them in the right order, connect them in the right places, go back and dot the 'i' and cross both 't's, keep it in an even line, size it so you don't go off the board... do you see what I mean?"

Several heads nodded, then Romilda raised her hand. "What about the concentration?"

He smiled. "Okay, let's see about that. Anthony, start signing again... just keep going this time, over and over... go ahead and fill the board."

The look of skepticism in the dark eyes had been replaced by one of curiosity, and the other young man nodded before turning to obey. "Now," Neville instructed as the signatures followed one another in a long, flowing line across the dark surface, "keep signing, but at the same time, I want you to tell me everything you've eaten today."

Anthony blinked, surprised. "Uh... I had eggs for breakfast..."

"How many? How were they cooked? Did you put anything on them?"

"Two, I think... no, three. Scrambled, with... a little bit of salt and pepper maybe?"

"Great. You can stop now." Neville tapped the blackboard with his hand. "Still just signing his name, but when I messed with his concentration, he slowed down, he forgot to dot the 'i' on this one, that one there he went straight into 'Goldstein' without putting the 'y' on 'Anthony.' " Another wave of his wand, and the blackboard vanished again. "If you're thinking about other things, you might as well just go out there wandless. It's just you, the person you're dueling, and the magic. You're all witches and wizards, it's a part of you, so go ahead and trust what it tells you. Form up, and lets go again."

They faced off into two lines, Neville taking his own position opposite Ginny after setting the signal that would start them. He took a deep breath, remembering to take his own advice and clearing his mind, allowing himself to see nothing but the blazing look in the brown eyes across from him. The timer ticked down like a mechanical heartbeat: five, four, three, two... then the buzzer sounded.