Second chance a new choice

The Irish incident

House-elves had to be one of the biggest blessings the Wizarding World offered. Penelope asked them to help fix up the new Life Defenders' evening meeting place, and the elves graciously obliged. In one night, the room was dust-free—a big, empty space that invited everyone in.

Severus hung back as his fellow Life Defenders wandered the room, gaping. A huge window almost covered one wall and afforded a grand view of the Forbidden Forest.

In excitement, most students immediately began the evening's practice. They split into pairs and teamed up with someone new—often from a house different from their own as was the unspoken rule.

The first half hour passed in practice of Impedimenta and Protego charms. Then, they gathered for Severus to instruct them in a new charm, one of his own invention—to the great excitement of the students.

Funny how happy they are to be taught and to listen outside school hours—and to me of all people. I'd never have gotten this much attention from students in past classes. Severus raised his wand. "Observe." He flicked his wand at a book, waited one to two seconds, and repeated the gesture, this time at a roll of parchment. Quicker than a blink the items switched places.

"Well, what's the use in that?" asked Matthew Flint. "It's not very impressive, is it?"

"Brute force is seldom key," said Severus. "What counts more is the use of the brain. Often, a person never uses such minor charms as this, but to employ them wisely will result in besting those who only fire crude explosive charms."

"That doesn't make any sense." Regulus furrowed his brows. "Everyone says to go as advanced as I can. Shouldn't we learn some real fighting moves? Aren't they more useful?"

"Not likely," Severus said. "Rarely can you use such moves, and with strategic use of the mind, you won't ever have to stoop to fiend flames. If you ever use brute force in a fight or mission, it's a sign you've worked yourself into a corner—a result of poor planning and dimwitted actions. To use such force as anything other than a last resort is foolishness—and I doubt any such dunderhead could even control it."

The students' attention didn't falter.

"Imagine," Severus continued, "I'm out in a field, searching for a specific object. This object is important for both me and my enemy, and to regain it may save lives—and be a hard blow to the enemy. However, the object is well-guarded. I could choose to barge in, but why would I do that—" he smirked, "when I remembered to bring a copy of the object? I switch them from a safe distance, and no one knows I was ever near the object. That's sure to give the enemy a headache—and may even prompt them to fight amongst themselves, become suspicious of one another." A snatch of evil hinted his smile. "To degrade and collapse them from within—that is indeed the most effective and sure way to slaughter your enemy. The practical uses of this charm are limitless. All it takes from you is a bit of insight. Use your heads!"

Several students gave an excited, "Oh!" and they all scurried to begin. Many darted to their school bags to gather objects they could practice with. Their curiosity and genuine appreciation even made Severus enjoy these sessions.

This form of teaching is so different from a traditional school class. They can come and go as they please—and do as they please. If they want to sit and talk, they can, but if they want to practice, others won't hesitate to join them.

Many students chose to practice and asked eager questions.

Severus had always prided himself before in keeping a quiet classroom. But this wasn't a classroom—probably why he could enjoy it so much more. No need to grade or rate anyone, no need to dread assigned papers. Just learning and sharing.