Harry Potter's : Fantastic Beasts Guide

In the days that followed, Professor Quirrell continued his classes as if nothing had happened. He still mumbled nervously through his lessons, his eyes flickering anxiously as he spoke. Sometimes, he even greeted David in the corridors with a stiff nod, his expression as solemn as ever.

If David hadn't felt a chilling sensation every time he crossed paths with him, he might have convinced himself that the man in the Forbidden Forest hadn't been Quirrell. But David knew better. The magic he had absorbed from the unicorn gave him an uncanny ability to sense malice directed at him. And every time he saw Quirrell, the air grew cold, sending shivers down his spine.

One afternoon, David made his way down the eighth-floor corridor, a note clutched tightly in his hand. Hermione walked beside him, her eyes scanning the hallway with curiosity.

The note had been delivered by Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix, who had left it on David's pillow early that morning. It read:

"The Room of Requirement is in the corridor on the eighth floor, opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy trying to teach trolls ballet. Focus on what you need, and the room will provide it."

The flowing handwriting was unmistakably Dumbledore's.

David walked past the tapestry three times, concentrating hard on needing a space to practice dueling. As he completed his third pass, a smooth wooden door appeared on the once bare wall.

He opened the door slowly, and Ron and Harry rushed in, their faces lighting up with excitement.

"This is brilliant, David!" Ron shouted, his eyes wide as he took in the sight.

Inside, the room was vast, with high shelves lining the walls, filled with ancient spellbooks and magical instruments of all shapes and sizes. Soft, golden light bathed the room, and the air smelled faintly of parchment and polish.

"Hermione, Neville, you two go inside. I'll wait for Professor Flitwick at the door," David said.

Hermione and Neville nodded eagerly, stepping into the room with wide eyes, captivated by the countless magical objects surrounding them.

A few moments later, quick footsteps echoed down the corridor. David turned to see Professor Flitwick hurrying toward him, his small form nearly bouncing with each step.

"Sorry I'm late, David! Just finished another class," Professor Flitwick said, his voice cheerful but slightly out of breath.

"It's alright, Professor. We just got here," David assured him.

Once Flitwick entered, David gently closed the door, and it vanished into the wall, leaving no trace that it had ever existed.

Inside, Professor Flitwick moved to the center of the room, glancing around. "Ah, no chairs. Well, no matter. There are only five of you, and I'm sure you can see me just fine without them."

Harry and the others stifled their laughter, and the tension of starting a new lesson seemed to melt away.

"Alright, everyone, quiet down," Flitwick clapped his hands, his voice cheerful but commanding. "Let's get started."

He beamed at them, his eyes twinkling. "I'm honored to be here teaching you duel skills. When I was younger, I even won the All-England Duelling Championship!"

Ron's eyes widened. "You won the championship, Professor? What was it like? Did you have to fight dangerous wizards?"

Flitwick waved a hand, a fond smile on his lips. "I'll tell you all about that during break time. For now, let's get to the lesson."

He looked at each of them, his expression growing serious. "Before we begin, I need to ask a question. Why do you want to learn dueling skills?"

The question hung in the air, and they exchanged uncertain glances.

"Dueling isn't just about showing off or gaining power," Flitwick continued. "There are no dueling contests nowadays. Are you planning to become Aurors? Or do you just want to be stronger?"

David was the first to answer, his voice firm. "I want to protect the people and things I care about—my family, my magical creatures, and my friends."

Professor Flitwick nodded approvingly. "A noble reason. And you, Miss Granger?"

Hermione's eyes were bright with determination. "To protect my friends, too."

Harry and Ron echoed her, nodding with conviction.

Professor Flitwick's gaze finally landed on Neville. "And you, Mr. Longbottom?"

Neville hesitated, his face flushing. "I... I want to protect my friends, too. And... and..."

His voice faltered, and he looked down at his shoes, his hands trembling slightly.

Flitwick's expression softened. "It's alright, Neville. Speak up. No one here will judge you."

Taking a deep breath, Neville looked up, his eyes filled with a quiet resolve. "I want to be an Auror, like my parents were."

Professor Flitwick's face lit up with pride. "Well said, Mr. Longbottom. I believe you can achieve that."

He moved to stand a little farther away, allowing everyone a better view. "I want you to remember why you're here today. Learning to duel isn't easy. It's exhausting, frustrating, and sometimes even painful. But remembering your purpose will give you the strength to persevere."

The room was silent, each of them taking his words to heart.

Flitwick's expression turned serious. "Now, what is the purpose of a duel?"

"To defeat the other person?" Hermione ventured.

"To defend yourself?" Harry guessed.

Professor Flitwick shook his head. "In the real world, a duel isn't just about winning. It's about survival. When you stand across from someone with wands drawn, you must be prepared to defend your life. To strike before you're struck down."

Hermione and Harry paled at his words, their faces growing solemn.

"When your spells are matched, when your skills are equal, how do you win?" Flitwick's eyes sparkled with a challenge.

"By knowing more spells?" Hermione suggested.

"By using more powerful spells?" Harry added.

Flitwick smiled. "All good answers. But what if you both know the same spells? What if you're perfectly matched?"

The group looked at each other, unsure.

David's mind flashed to his encounter in the Forbidden Forest. His voice was quiet but confident. "You have to predict your opponent's moves. Anticipate their intentions before they act."

Professor Flitwick's face broke into a wide grin. "Exactly! In a duel, it's not just about strength or power. It's about reading your opponent—guessing their next move before they make it. It's a game of strategy and wit."

"Only by out-thinking your opponent can you gain the upper hand," Flitwick explained, his voice filled with passion. "Dueling is as much a battle of the mind as it is of magic."

He looked around, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "But words can only teach so much. A demonstration would be much more effective."

His gaze fell on Harry, who immediately stepped back, his face turning red.

Professor Flitwick sighed, then turned to David. "Mr. Scamander, would you care to be my demonstration partner?"

David took a deep breath, his heart pounding. He gripped his wand tighter and stepped forward. "I'd be honored, Professor."

Professor Flitwick's eyes gleamed with anticipation. "Excellent. Let's begin."