Bright red light continuously flashed throughout the classroom like lightning, creating an almost strobing, hypnotic effect as Harry Potter worked through the students one by one.
It quickly became obvious to everyone watching that even with Harry deliberately holding back his speed and power, casting at perhaps only half or even a third of his actual combat capability, very few students could successfully manage to block his attacks in time.
Most were simply too slow in their reactions. Some students hadn't even begun the incantation before being disarmed. Others got halfway through "Protego" before their wands were torn away. A few managed to produce weak, flickering barriers that shattered on impact like glass.
Those who actually succeeded in defending themselves with any consistency were only a small group that everyone else watched with mingled admiration and envy:
George and Fred with their natural combat instincts honed through years of evading consequences, Hermione through pure technical mastery and countless hours of study, Cedric with his seventh-year experience and natural athletic ability, and... most surprisingly, most unexpectedly to everyone present... John Selwyn?
John Selwyn? The quiet first-year Slytherin?
A first-year student could actually successfully use the complex Shield Charm to defend against Harry's attacks with any consistency?
This completely unexpected development left everyone in the room quite shocked, stunned into silence before excited murmuring broke out. Several students exchanged amazed glances and whispered to each other.
"How is that even possible?" someone muttered.
"He's just a first-year!"
"I couldn't do that until third year..."
Ginny who had been watching the demonstrations carefully from her position near the front, stepped forward with astonishment written across her face. Her eyes were wide as she looked at John, who stood calmly in front of her despite being more than a full head shorter than she was.
"How did you do that?" Ginny asked with undisguised wonder and curiosity.
John lowered his wand calmly, his young face showing absolutely no trace of pride or smugness or self-satisfaction, as if the successful defense had been nothing more than a trivial, completely unremarkable matter.
"I simply used the spell according to the specific method Potter described earlier during his demonstration," He explained in his usual unemotional tone, speaking slowly and clearly as if it were completely obvious to anyone paying attention.
"Shorten the verbal incantation as much as possible, focus the intent clearly and firmly in your mind, and trust that your magic will respond. That's all there is to it."
His shoulders lifted in a slight shrug, as if he couldn't understand why everyone was making such a fuss.
A ripple of whispers immediately filled the classroom like wind through wheat fields, students were turning to each other with impressed, sometimes envious expressions.
For a first-year student to master such a genuinely high-difficulty technique and spell with apparent ease was truly unbelievable.
Most students couldn't produce even a weak Shield Charm until third or fourth year. Many never mastered it properly at all.
"That was excellent, John" Harry approached John and asked curiously, "Can you demonstrate again? This time I'll go a bit faster."
John nodded once without any hesitation or fear, clearly not intimidated by the challenge. He raised his wand again to ready position.
"Are you ready?" Harry asked, his own wand rising.
"Yes, Potter. Ready when you are."
"Here it comes—Expelliarmus!"
This time, without the training wheels, Harry's Disarming spell was noticeably faster.
The bright red light shot out like actual lightning given form, leaving barely even a crimson trail through the air. The spell moved so fast several watching students gasped.
Though John's sharp eyes tracked the incoming spell impressively well for his age and inexperience, following its trajectory, and he reacted remarkably quickly, bringing his wand up in the proper defensive motion with good form, his Shield barrier only formed perhaps halfway before reality caught up with him.
Snap!
The red light struck dead center. John's wand flew cleanly from his small hand as if plucked by invisible fingers, spinning through the air in a graceful arc before clattering loudly against the far wall and bouncing twice on the stone floor.
A chorus of sympathetic, disappointed sighs echoed through the watching classroom. Several students grimaced in shared pain.
So close! He'd been so close to pulling it off!
Harry walked over with to retrieve the wand from where it had fallen near a stack of broken desks, then returned and handed it back to John with a warm, appreciative smile.
"You did extraordinarily well for your level and experience, John," Harry said with complete sincerity. "That reaction time was excellent. Most students twice your age couldn't have gotten even halfway to forming that barrier."
Harry gestured toward Ron with a slightly mischievous grin.
"When Ron was in first year, he could barely manage the Levitation Charm, let alone the Shield Charm. You're operating at what should be third or fourth-year level. That's remarkable."
Ron, standing nearby in the crowd, made an indignant sound: "Oi!"
'What did this have to do with me? Why am I being used as the bad example here? I wasn't THAT bad... was I?'
Several students around Ron chuckled at his expression, patting his shoulders sympathetically.
John took his wand back with both hands and nodded slightly in acknowledgment of the praise. He showed a small, proper smile.
No matter who you are, no matter how composed or controlled or mature beyond your years, being sincerely praised by someone always brings happiness.
"Thank you, Potter," John said. "I'll continue practicing."
"Good. That's the spirit," Harry approved.
"Alright, let's continue with our session, everyone," Harry announced clearly, clapping his hands together several times firmly to regain everyone's scattered attention and refocus the group on the lesson at hand.
"That was an excellent demonstration of both success and the challenges we face. Now I want everyone to pair up with someone at approximately your skill level and practice defensive casting with each other. Take turns attacking and defending."
He looked around, mentally pairing students.
"Ron, you work with Hermione. George and Fred, pair up—try not to blow anything up. Ginny, work with Dean. Neville, you're with Seamus—and Seamus, please be careful with your wand. We don't need any more craters in the floor."
Nervous laughter resounded through the room.
"John, since you don't have an obvious partner at your level, I'll work with you for now. We'll do some controlled drills together."
"Yes, Potter. Thank you for the instruction."
The classroom immediately erupted into ordered chaos as students spread out, found their partners, established safe distances from each other, and began the paired practice exercises with varying degrees of success and enthusiasm.
"Remember!" Harry called out over the rising noise. "Start slow! This isn't a competition! Focus on proper form and successful completion, not speed! Speed comes naturally with practice!"
Red light began flashing sporadically around the room as students took turns casting and defending. Voices called out incantations. Shields flickered into existence. Wands occasionally clattered to the floor when defenses failed.
"Expelliarmus!"
"Protego!"
"Too slow! Try again!"
"Did you see that? I actually blocked it!"
The meeting continued smoothly and productively from there, students were gradually improving with repetition, building muscle memory and magical reflexes.
Harry walked among them offering corrections, demonstrations, encouragement, occasionally stepping in to show proper technique when someone was struggling.
As for Umbridge and her official threats against student gatherings—Harry was only slightly worried now, having prepared thoroughly and established multiple layers of security.
He had chosen this particular abandoned classroom for another important reason beyond just its generous size and distance from high-traffic areas: George and Fred had previously discovered during one of their many nightly explorations and rule-breaking expeditions a secret passage here leading outside the castle grounds.
Even if Umbridge really did come looking for the, as long as she didn't burst in immediately and catch them completely by surprise, everyone could quickly evacuate through the concealed passage in under two minutes and leave her standing in an empty room with absolutely no proof of any gathering, just her word against theirs.
Additionally, Harry had quietly, carefully placed several protective charms and early-warning spells on the classroom door itself—even though this wasn't entirely according to school regulations and could itself be considered rule-breaking if discovered.
He'd used an Intruder Charm that would send a warm tingling sensation through everyone's wands if someone tried the door handle, a Locking Charm strong enough to delay entry for at least thirty seconds, and a subtle Repelling Charm that would make unauthorized people feel vaguely uneasy about entering, like they'd forgotten something important elsewhere.
Though not particularly advanced or powerful magic by adult wizard standards, certainly nothing compared to the wards protecting Hogwarts itself, the charms were more than sufficient to provide critical early warning if someone tried to force entry, giving everyone precious time to relocate through the secret passage or at minimum prepare a proper defense.
Besides, Harry didn't believe Umbridge possessed anywhere near the magical skill or spell experience to actually break through his protective spells to forcibly enter.
Finally, and perhaps most importantly, there was little Flick. Harry had specifically asked the helpful, friendly Treant to guard the corridor entrance and not let anyone wearing pink clothing get anywhere near the door.
With these three layers of protection working together—secret escape route, magical door wards, and living plant guardian, Harry could finally set aside his lingering worries and anxiety and focus completely on instructing the students properly.
And these careful, thorough preparations soon proved their worth in dramatic fashion.
When the meeting was approximately halfway through, a pink figure appeared outside in the dim corridor like a flashy ghost.
Umbridge stood there in the passage, wearing her trademark sickeningly false smile.
Filch stood dutifully beside her like a faithful hunting dog, holding his cat Mrs. Norris in his arms. Clearly, he had led the way to this location. The gleam in his eyes spoke of vindictive pleasure.
"It seems we have some serious rule-breaking students hiding here," Umbridge said with exaggerated, dripping sweetness. Her face was full of smug, deeply satisfied smiles. "Mr. Filch, are you completely certain it's this specific classroom?"
Though her words spoke of caution, her tone made clear she had no doubts at all.
Filch, clutching his cat against his chest, wore an expression of schadenfreude and vindictive pleasure. His eyes gleamed with malicious satisfaction at the thought of catching students in blatant rule-breaking.
"Absolutely certain, Professor Umbridge," He confirmed eagerly. "I saw Potter and his little band of cronies sneak in here earlier with my own eyes, trying to be all secretive and sneaky."
He nodded vigorously.
"They've blatantly violated the Educational Decree you just issued!"
"Very good, very good indeed, Mr. Filch," Umbridge nodded with deep satisfaction, practically purring with pleasure at the thought of catching those students.
She took several steps toward the classroom door. Her hand was already reaching for the door handle.
But at that precise moment—
"Swoosh!"
Several branches gleaming with a metallic shine instantly extended from the corner with startling speed. They crossed directly in front of Umbridge in a X-pattern to form a barrier.
Umbridge stopped abruptly mid-step, her forward momentum nearly caused her to stumble into the branches. She barely caught her balance. Her eyes narrowed to suspicious slits as she examined this completely unexpected obstacle with rapidly growing anger and confusion.
Her face was flushed.
Following the direction of the blocking branches with her gaze, she soon spotted the cause—Flick standing camouflaged in the shadows of the corner where it had been patiently waiting exactly as instructed.
"What is... this thing?" Umbridge's voice became instantly shrill and high-pitched.
Clearly, she sensed the threat contained within these seemingly ordinary branches.
Filch instinctively took half a step backward, putting prudent distance between himself and the plant. His eyes darted nervously. He hastily tried to explain, eager to shift any potential blame away from himself.
"It's some kind of creature from the Forbidden Forest, Professor," He said quickly. "It often sneaks in to wander around at night, getting into storage rooms, frightening students. And Headmaster Dumbledore never properly disciplines it or keeps it confined where it belongs!"
His voice rose with indignation.
"If you ask my opinion, Professor, the rules here really need a complete and proper overhaul. Everything's too lax. How can such a thing be allowed to freely enter and exit areas where students study?!"
Umbridge's frown deepened into an ugly scowl that transformed her toad-like face into something almost grotesque. A flash of disgust and revulsion appeared in her protruding eyes as she stared at Flick with loathing.
"It seems Hogwarts' management truly has serious problems," she said in her shrill voice, clearly already composing mental reports to Fudge about Dumbledore's incompetence. "Not only do students have no discipline or respect for proper authority, but even this unknown, potentially dangerous magical creature can roam freely through the castle wherever it pleases!"
She raised her wand, pointing it at Flick.
"By my legal authority as High Inquisitor of Hogwarts, I order you to stand aside immediately and cease this obstruction of official Ministry business!"
Flick's branches didn't move even a single millimeter in response to this command. It merely tilted its wooden head slightly in what might have been curiosity or confusion.
It was just a tree, after all.
What exactly was a High Inquisitor? Could you eat it? Could you plant seeds with it?
By this time, the sound of ongoing spell practice inside the classroom had long since ended.
Harry carefully observed the confrontation unfolding outside through a narrow crack in the door. He held up one hand behind his back in a gesture to the students to stay quiet and still.
"Do we need to evacuate through the secret passage now?" Hermione whispered urgently beside him.
"Wait just a bit longer," Harry whispered back, his eyes never leaving the scene in the corridor, watching Flick and Umbridge with focus. "I trust Flick can handle this situation. Let's see what happens first."
The tense standoff outside continued.
Seeing her official order completely ineffective, having her authority utterly ignored by a plant of all things, Umbridge's false smile disappeared completely from her face, replaced by naked anger that made her face twist unpleasantly.
"In that case..." She stepped forward several aggressive paces, her face was flushing dark red with rage, and waved her wand in a sharp, angry motion. "Stup—"
Little Flick was extremely, remarkably sensitive to others' malicious intent and hostile magic.
Before Umbridge could finish pronouncing her Stunning spell, before the incantation was even half-complete and the magic could fully form, several of Flick's strong branches shot out like striking snakes and deftly coiled around her waist, wrapping multiple times with ease.
Then they lifted her effortlessly high into the air as if she weighed absolutely nothing at all, like she was a doll.
"Ahhhhhhh!"
Umbridge let out a high-pitched, shriek of terror that echoed down the corridor and probably carried to the floor below. Her wand fell from her hand, clattering loudly to the stone floor and rolling away into a dark corner.
Filch jumped back in fright, his eyes were going comically wide. Mrs. Norris in his arms yowled once then broke free from his embrace with her claws extended, scratching his arms in her panic.
The cat leaped to the floor and vanished without a trace into the shadows at full speed, wanting absolutely no part of this situation.
"P-Professor!" Filch stuttered, looking up in panic at Umbridge kicking and struggling helplessly in midair several feet off the ground, suspended like a pink piñata. Her shoes had fallen off.
Then he glanced fearfully at Flick, momentarily completely at a loss for what to do or how to help.
As everyone knew, Filch was merely a Squib without any magical ability—he clearly had no way to handle this situation or counter a magical creature.
He was helpless.
All he could do was stand there and watch.
Suspended in midair like a fish caught on a hook, Umbridge tried desperately to struggle free, her short legs were kicking uselessly at nothing but empty air. Her hands clawed at the branches wrapped around her, trying to pry them loose. But those seemingly slender wooden branches were remarkably resilient.
"Put me down this instant! You... you filthy, disgusting thing!" She shouted in panic, her voice was distorted by terror now rather than just anger.
However, Flick simply continued holding her steadily suspended several feet off the ground, the supporting branches were not even swaying or showing any strain from her weight and frantic struggles.
It even tilted its head slightly again, as if curiously observing this strange, loud creature in pink clothing that kept shrieking.
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