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Chapter 235: Like a Real Army
Though Wade still harbored some doubt about Professor Abigail, with Dumbledore’s assurance behind her, he decided not to worry too much. Between his past and present lifetimes, his age was less than half of Dumbledore’s. Wade didn’t believe his judgment could possibly surpass that of the old wizard.
Yet he was certain Dumbledore was holding back—there was more he wasn’t saying. Still, given the vast difference in their ages, Wade had no real complaint. Or rather, whenever a twinge of discontent arose, he would shift perspective: If I were in his position, would I really entrust a twelve-year-old with secrets? Of course not.
After that thought, his mind settled. In fact, he began to feel Dumbledore was being almost too generous toward him.
…
By late March, the weather gradually warmed. Though most of the month was soaked in endless, drizzling rain, the damp and muddy grounds couldn’t dampen the students’ enthusiasm for outdoor games. The Maze Challenge had once again become Hogwarts’ hottest attraction.
After an entire winter without such excitement, the students’ energy had surged to a level that felt almost alarming. For nearly all hours outside curfew, the Maze was packed to the brim. Professor Abigail took an immediate liking to the game. She also discovered that within it, she could freely strike down opponents without fear of Madam Pomfrey’s reprimand.
Of course, she had finally come to understand how fragile children were—especially when injured, they’d quickly be followed by furious guardians. So her interventions became far more measured. Students rarely got hurt, but they were often knocked out before they even saw their opponent, then swiftly ejected from the Maze. The experience left them thoroughly frustrated.
Several times, students protested to the “referee,” but the professors merely offered reassuring words—without ever stopping Abigail’s relentless pursuit.
Fuming, the students formed alliances: scouts, bait, attackers, defenders—each role clearly defined. They hoped to overwhelm the merciless Professor through sheer numbers.
To young wizards, this was just another game. But to adult wizards watching, it stirred a quiet unease.
“This… it’s like a real army,” Snape murmured, standing by the window, watching students from every direction carefully maneuvering around the arena, darting and ducking behind cover with careful precision.
He turned to Dumbledore. “Is this your aim?”
“Let me tell you,” Dumbledore replied, sounding genuinely surprised, “not everything unfolds exactly as I expect.”
“I only wanted the children to grow more familiar with spellwork,” he added.
Snape regarded him skeptically, but the old wizard’s face gave nothing away.
“Fine,” Snape said. “Just make sure Fudge never sees this. He might just sit down in shock.”
“You underestimate our Minister of Magic,” Dumbledore replied calmly. “His courage is probably a bit greater than you think.”
Snape gave a dry, mocking smile, then said nothing. His gaze lingered on the chaotic scene beyond the window, his expression growing heavier.
He couldn’t help but wonder: If we’d undergone training like this back then… Lily Potter might not have…
But then he remembered—training was mutual. And at the time, he had been a Death Eater. They were enemies. The stronger their abilities, the more brutal the war became.
Still, watching these children grow more capable each day, the professors felt both increasingly overwhelmed by their management and deeply proud of their progress.
Perhaps Professor Abigail had satisfied her thirst for combat within the Maze. Or perhaps Madam Pomfrey’s fury had finally made her cautious. Either way, the Defense Against the Dark Arts class began to return to something resembling normalcy.
Abigail resumed teaching from textbooks—how to handle common Dark creatures, how to avoid ambushes by Dark Wizards, and the various tactics they employed. When inspired, she’d have students demonstrate the proper responses, just like her predecessor had done.
But where Lockhart had only allowed students to shout and act out bravely—only to be easily defeated by the “heroic Lockhart”—Abigail actually showed them real counterattacks. The students who performed often ended up bruised and sore.
“Honestly, Professor Abigail is better than I expected,” Anthony groaned, wincing as Michael helped him apply healing salve to a darkening bruise on his back. “She teaches useful things—she’d be perfect if she’d just ease up on the punches.”
The others nodded in agreement.
Now, it had become a common habit after Defense Against the Dark Arts: students would head to an empty classroom to treat their bruises. Girls went to another room altogether.
A little bruising or scrape wasn’t worth the trouble of visiting Madam Pomfrey—especially since she’d likely scold them. Applying their own potions was quick and effective. Most ordinary bruises vanished in under ten minutes.
Ravenclaw and Slytherin students generally excelled in Potions. Even Crabbe and Crabbe occasionally managed to brew a passable batch.
Still, the best potions came from Wade in Ravenclaw and Malfoy in Slytherin—both of whom were constantly surrounded by students seeking their help.
Last term, the rivalry between the two Houses had been at its worst. But as Wade’s abilities grew ever stronger, the old grudges seemed to fade.
They were all just teenagers, sharing the same classes, sitting at the same tables during meals, battling together in the Maze under some stern professor’s wrath. Most of the original reasons for their arguments had long been forgotten. Slowly, the atmosphere returned to one of easy banter and laughter.
Some Slytherins even began walking beside Malfoy again—but now, Malfoy seemed distant, indifferent.
After Charms class on Friday, Professor Flitwick asked the Ravenclaw students to stay behind. Standing atop a tall stack of books, he spoke seriously.
“Next week marks the beginning of the Easter Holiday,” he announced. “During this break, you must decide which subjects to choose for your third year.”
“This choice shapes your future. Don’t pick lightly. Before you decide, I strongly recommend discussing it with your parents. If you need help understanding anything, feel free to come to me.”
(End of Chapter)
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