A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts

The students were hiding inside and not coming out. "What do we do, Harry?" Neville leaned against the wall, shouting. He had just peeked out and narrowly avoided being hit by a spell.

Harry glanced back at the remaining group. "There are 16 left," Hermione said. Harry clenched his teeth. "Are you all willing to act together?"

"Absolutely."

"We'll follow your lead, Harry."

"This is a rare chance; we're about to defeat Slytherin," Seamus exclaimed, excited.

"Alright," Harry stopped refusing, "Ron, Hermione, and I..." He hesitated for a moment. "And Neville, we'll take the front. Use the Ironclad Charm for defense. Seamus and Dean, be ready to support. Others, stand behind us and cast the Stupefy charm!"

They spent half a minute adjusting, barely forming a formation, and cautiously emerged from behind the stone wall.

Meanwhile, Draco frowned, sensing something off. It had been quiet outside for a while. What was going on? He estimated there were at least a dozen people on the other side, but here—his face darkened—there were only six.

It seemed like an inevitable loss.

Bloody Sirius Black, his father was right; he was the biggest traitor to pure-blood families!

He glanced at his companions—Crabbe had already fallen, leaving only Goyle. "Goyle, go check outside." Goyle was reluctant; his bulky frame couldn't shield against so many wands. He peeked over the wall, and his eyes widened suddenly.

"What's wrong?"

"What's happening?"

"Why aren't you saying anything?"

The remaining few bombarded him with questions.

"They—" Goyle was interrupted midway, hit by a Stupefy charm. He collapsed with a thud onto the grass. Draco's eyes twitched, not because of Goyle being stunned—a mere Stupefy wouldn't matter—but because he heard a synchronized sound of footsteps very close by.

"Hey, Malfoy."

A mocking voice came, and Draco looked up. Harry was smiling brightly behind a transparent magical barrier, two gleaming black wands extended. In an instant, red light and spells of darkness struck him.

The remaining Gryffindor students erupted in deafening cheers. "We won!"

Sirius walked over and cast the Revive charm on the six students.

"The first round is over. No one used any other spells, that's good. Remember, in other grades, some take advantage and use curses during chaos. I punish them with sentence copying, a method I learned from Muggle schools, often effective... So, Slytherin is defeated, Gryffindor wins."

The Gryffindor students were jubilant, continuously shouting, "We've won! We've defeated Slytherin!"

"...Additionally, I'll mention your 'dead' teammates. Half of them are 'gone.'" Sirius said expressionlessly, and Harry and others immediately stopped smiling.

"We'll proceed to the second challenge. This time, only Leg-Locker curses are allowed. Not even the Ironclad Charm. No defense... We're using it to simulate the Killing Curse. You should know its characteristics... Hard to resist, hit means death."

Many Slytherin students directed resentful glares at him, feeling they were about to endure another humiliation. Even Harry was unsettled by these looks, but Sirius remained indifferent.

"Everyone gather; I'll rearrange the groups." Soon, Sirius split a red-green cloth like a sharp pair of scissors, creating two mixed teams. They stood together but remained distinct. Everyone wore a perplexed expression.

Harry saw Draco's face beside him, while Ron and Hermione were placed on the opposite team.

"Is this number okay?" Sirius asked.

Then, he stepped back again. "Two minutes to strategize. Start immediately after time's up. You all know the rules. There should be no excuses for losing this time. Of course, you can spend this time daydreaming."

Harry looked at the new teams, and for a moment, silence prevailed. Half Gryffindor and half Slytherin students exchanged eerie glances, having recently dueled and cheered for each other's downfall. Now forced together, everyone was taken aback.

Where did Sirius learn this from? Harry couldn't help but wonder.

"Isn't this like the Dueling Club?" Neville muttered.

Harry realized, looking at Draco, that his feelings mirrored the first time they met in Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. How can someone be this unpleasant? Harry thought, but he held back his discomfort and asked, "Follow Dueling Club rules?"

Draco eyed Harry, and they stared each other down. Just when Harry was becoming impatient, Draco's pale face curled into a sneer. "Sure."

"Hey, Potter, watch out for the spells coming from the side," a girl beside him whispered.

"Shut up, Pansy," Draco said coldly.

The two minutes passed quickly, and Sirius blew the whistle again.

"The battle has begun! What are you waiting for?" He urged from a distance. Everyone instinctively waved their wands, casting Leg-Locker curses' incantations.

Harry suddenly realized that if the previous round was chaos, the current field was a complete mess. Spells were flying everywhere, many reciting curses, and the next moment, they'd be on the ground, struck by spells from their peers.

Unable to use Ironclad Charms or stone walls, evasion was their only option. Many were hopping and dodging; only a few skilled students could deflect curses.

"Only Leg-Locker curses allowed. Students hit should remove the spell themselves and leave the battlefield," Sirius shouted from the edge, flicking away a curse. Irritated, he wondered who the idiot was aiming at him intentionally.

...

"Split up! Scatter—ouch!" Harry heard Ron shout loudly.

When there were only a dozen people left on the field, someone shouted, "Charge!" Then both sides surged toward each other. Harry managed to hit three, but then the two groups merged, and everyone stood, wide-eyed, none daring to move recklessly.

Hesitantly, Hermione looked at Harry. They weren't on the same team, but... was it okay to attack each other? They didn't linger in their dilemma for too long; Sirius walked over, his face dark.

"What's your name?" He asked a Slytherin student.

"Blestrus Shabini," the student replied softly.

Sirius scrutinized him for a moment. "Effective tactic." Blestrus almost smiled, but Sirius added, "However, it's also stupid. You die the fastest on the battlefield." He turned around and announced loudly, "The second round is over. Gather around."

Students sat in groups on the grass. Sirius sat among them, one hand propping his chin, surveying them with a sidelong glance.

"Tsk tsk, look at your performances just now. If that were a real battle, survivors could be counted on one hand."

A Slytherin student grumbled discontentedly, "It's not our fault for the first round, unequal numbers..." still upset about the initial match.

Sirius let out a short, scornful laugh. "Who told you that war is fair? What do you think real battles are like? Everyone agrees to fight together? Adhering to the rules of a match, one-on-one fair play?

That nonsense has nothing to do with real warfare."

"What you talked about has no relation to war."

He shook his head, using his other hand to support his knee. His weathered face, the marks from years of imprisonment still etched on him, merged with his character, making him more charming. Even sitting on the ground, he made people wonder if he had just escaped from a nobleman's banquet.

Sirius lazily said, "Sometimes you're the outnumbered side. What do you do then? Can you say, 'It's unfair, there are more people on the other side, so I'll join them?' If it's your family being attacked by three or five Dark Wizards, would you turn to them and say, 'This is unfair,' and walk away?"

"The difference in numbers, strength, timing, environment, weather, teamwork... Each of these factors affects evenly matched sides and changes the battle. My task this year is to make you experience these things as authentically as possible."

"Of course, there are a few curses in the exam that I'm teaching."

"Next, analyze the first two battles yourselves. Weaknesses, strengths, say whatever you want. Let's chat casually... Anyone raising their hand? No? Alright, then I'll assign homework: an analytical essay, at least three feet long..."

"Please, Professor!"

"Can't we just talk?"

In an atmosphere of 'friendly harmony,' the first lesson of fifth-year Dark Arts Defense ended.

Sirius scratched his chin. "Alright, about homework... um, no, let me reveal the content of the next class: I'll randomly select two teams for a simulated battle. Each team will consist of two to five members. Think about when you have only one partner facing five people. At least hold out long enough until reinforcements arrive... Alright, see you next class."

A complex lesson, isn't it? Sirius Black sure had a unique way of teaching!

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