After Douglas finished his explanation, the professors gathered around the battered remains of the diary, examining it with keen interest. Professor Snape and Professor Flitwick—masters of the Dark Arts and Charms, respectively—were especially absorbed. Yet, Douglas's counter-curse had left the diary so damaged that even they could only detect faint traces of lingering magic.
Professor McGonagall spoke up, her voice edged with unease. "I never would have imagined it—last year it was Quirinus, and now, a bewitched diary. How many tricks does he have up his sleeve? We need to secure the Chamber first, then decide our next steps."
Professor Sprout gave Douglas a sympathetic smile. "You've done more than enough, Douglas. Please, get some rest. I'm sorry we disturbed your sleep. But next time, maybe skip the fortress-worth of protective spells…"
Snape gave a disdainful snort but said nothing more.
...
That evening, during detention hours, Harry and Ron arrived with a handful of other students sentenced to spend their weekend copying lines. To everyone's surprise, Hermione also turned up at the office.
"Professor, there's a question on the monthly exam I still don't understand. I was hoping you could explain it," she said.
Douglas wasn't fazed; he remembered the small error on Hermione's test. With a flick of his wand and a murmured Accio, her paper soared into his hand.
"It's really not a difficult one…" he began, but as he explained, Hermione was busy signaling frantically to Harry and Ron.
After a long, awkward pause, Harry finally blurted, "Professor, could you… could you touch me?"
The room fell utterly silent. Every head swiveled in disbelief. Hermione and Ron both slapped their foreheads. Douglas recoiled slightly—Merlin, what sort of wild request was that?
Harry waved his hands in panic. "No, no, not like that! I just meant—could you grab my wrist and give me a blessing? I've got a Quidditch match coming up and I'm, er, collecting blessings from all the professors…"
It was the best excuse the trio could invent for getting Douglas to make contact with Harry. They'd even prepared a Plan B: if he refused, Harry would have to risk grabbing Douglas's wrist himself.
Clearly, their earlier attempt to question that "mad girl" Luna had come up empty—and she'd only told them their heads were swarming with invisible bugs.
Hermione jumped in to cover for him. "Professor, I read about this in a book. Harry's got a big Quidditch match soon, and you know how powerful Slytherin and Hufflepuff's new brooms are. He's really anxious…"
Douglas couldn't help but chuckle. Did they really think he didn't know about last year's events? Thanks to the protective charm left by Harry's mother, neither Quirrell nor Voldemort could touch him. Now they were suspicious of him, too.
He glanced at the trio, all wearing hopeful, nervous expressions. His smile turned sly. "Of course, that's no problem at all. You said you're collecting blessings from all the professors? Well, if you can get Professor Snape to give you his blessing—and have him write me a note to confirm it—I'll be delighted to oblige."
Not just Harry, Ron, and Hermione—even the other students serving detention looked at Harry with deep sympathy. Everyone knew how Snape treated Gryffindors, especially Harry Potter. If he dared ask Snape for a blessing, who knew what would happen?
Harry shook his head so hard he nearly rattled his brain loose. "Professor, I was just joking, really… just joking, haha…" He promptly slunk into his seat and started copying lines, not daring to look up.
Ron, seeing Douglas's expression, shrank down like a startled quail—then remembered he hadn't done anything wrong, and cautiously straightened his back again.
Hermione didn't dare hint at Plan B anymore. She quickly turned to Douglas. "Professor, I think I understand the question now. I've arranged to meet a senior in the study room for some practice, so I'll just—"
Douglas smiled at her anxious expression. "As it happens, I'm free tonight, Miss Granger. If you want to practice any charms, I'd be happy to help. Not to boast, but I do have a bit of talent in Charms. I'm curious to see just how much the little witch Professor Flitwick keeps praising outshines a former prodigy like myself. Miss Granger, won't you satisfy my curiosity?"
Hermione looked as if she might burst into tears. She couldn't help but wonder if Douglas already knew what they were up to.
When George and Fred arrived for their own detention, they found Hermione and Douglas dueling in a corner of the office. Hermione's hair was wild, her eyes red-rimmed with frustration.
The twins sidled up to Ron and Harry, whispering, "What's going on?"
Ron let out a long, weary sigh. "Professor's helping Hermione practice the Stunning Spell. If she can hit Professor Holmes or even just land a spell anywhere in the office, she wins. But it's been nearly an hour, and she still hasn't managed."
At that moment, Douglas noticed the twins. He turned to Hermione. "Take a break, Miss Granger. Have some tea and calm down. This is a fifth-year spell, after all. I gave you sixteen tries, and you didn't manage a single hit. Your technique is solid—you just need to work on your aim and timing. In a real duel, you can't afford to miss, especially against a more powerful wizard. Timing is everything…"
Hermione drew a shaky breath. She'd always prided herself on her talent for Charms, but in Douglas's presence, she felt woefully inadequate. It wasn't just an age gap—the Stunning Spell was something she'd only read about, not actually learned. Yet, in just one hour, Douglas had shown her a whole new world of spellcasting.
Before, learning a spell meant memorizing the incantation, the wand movement, and the right mindset. Then it was just endless practice. But Douglas had flipped that on its head—first dissecting the spell's origins, its emotional core, even the logic behind the wandwork. Soon, Hermione could cast a successful Stunning Spell without needing to follow the textbook gestures to the letter.
Douglas even explained that, with enough emotional control, she could adjust the spell's power—barely dazing someone with a gentle touch, or knocking them out cold if she poured her feelings into it.
"Miss Granger, you must understand: magical power isn't the only thing that determines a spell's strength—emotion is just as important."
He shared these insights in a soundproof bubble, a little privilege for the school's star pupil. Of course, not everyone could handle such techniques—if Hermione hadn't had the knowledge and discipline, simplifying spells like this could be dangerous.
Douglas strolled over to the tea table, smiling at George and Fred. "Wasn't your detention finished? What brings you back—did Professor Snape or Professor McGonagall veto your release?"
The twins looked positively miserable. "Professor, Snape—"
"—made us copy the entire Potions textbook from the beginning."
"He also said you're an irresponsible professor."
"Oh, and that your teaching standards are low… and your expectations are even lower…"
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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