HP: god of potions

Chapter 97

Once inside, Gray stepped forward, his wand glowing faintly as he murmured in latin, "Oh magic, shield us from both mundane and magical eyes. Deafen our sound from those not for their ears." A soft hum filled the room as the charm took effect, rendering their training session invisible and soundproof to the outside world. Hermione, ever curious, asked, "What spell was that?" Gray gave a small shrug. "Just something I came up with," he replied before gesturing for them to take their positions. "Alright," he began, his tone steady and instructive, "if you're going to face dark magic, you need to learn how to react quickly, and more importantly, you need to understand the intent behind your spells. So, throw something at me—anything. Let's see what you've got." Harry hesitated before stepping forward. "Alright, here goes. Expelliarmus!" he shouted, his wand flicking sharply to the side. A flash of red light streaked toward Gray, but with a casual wave of his hand, he deflected it, the spell dissipating harmlessly.

Ron gaped. "You didn't even use your wand!" Gray smirked. "Wandless magic isn't about strength; it's about control. Try again." This time, Ron stepped forward. "Stupefy!" he called, jabbing his wand forward. The stunning spell zipped through the air, only for Gray to sidestep it effortlessly. "Too rigid," Gray noted. "Magic flows. You're forcing it when you should be guiding it." Hermione, ever the overachiever, was next. She flicked her wrist and shouted, "Petrificus Totalus!" The full-body bind curse sped toward Gray with precision, but he raised his hand, and the spell fizzled out mid-air. "Impressive aim," he remarked, "but you're holding back. Let the spell carry your intent, not your doubt."

As the session progressed, each of them tried their best. Harry attempted "Impedimenta," slashing his wand in a downward arc, but Gray dismissed it with a flick of his fingers. "Harry," he said, "your spells are strong, but you're rushing. Slow down and let your magic breathe." Ron, encouraged by Gray's feedback, cast "Rictusempra," slashing his wand upward. Gray dodged it with ease, countering with, "Better, but you're focusing too much on power. Focus on precision instead." Hermione, determined not to be outdone, tried "Incendio," twirling her wand in a tight circle before pointing it forward. Gray stopped the spell mid-air with a subtle gesture. "You've got the technique," he said, "but don't overthink it. Trust your instincts."

By the end of the session, all three of them were exhausted but exhilarated. "You're incredible," Harry said, shaking his head in disbelief. "How do you do that without even trying?" Ron chimed in, "Yeah, it's like you're not even breaking a sweat!" Gray smirked, leaning against a desk. "Years of practice—and a bit of natural talent," he teased, earning groans from the trio. "But seriously," he added, "you all have potential. Keep practicing, focus on the intent behind your spells, and trust yourselves. You'll get there." Hermione, her confidence renewed, nodded firmly. "Thanks, Gray. This was... actually fun." Gray chuckled. "Just wait until the real work begins." The group laughed together.

-scene change-

The next morning, the Great Hall buzzed with its usual energy, but Hermione's alarmed exclamation cut through the chatter. "I cannot believe it!" she cried, staring at the Daily Prophet in disbelief. Harry and Ron looked at her curiously as she slapped the paper down on the table. Ron leaned over, reading aloud, "'Ministry Passes Educational Decree Number Twenty-Three: Dolores Umbridge Appointed Hogwarts High Inquisitor'? What's that mean?" Hermione, her voice tight, explained, "It says here that the High Inquisitor has the power to inspect all of the teachers." Harry's eyes widened. "You're kidding!" Hermione's tone grew grim. "That's not all. The High Inquisitor also has the power to sack teachers as well." Just then, Fred and George strolled by, smirking. Fred called out, "So, seen the news, have you?" George chimed in, "Personally, I envy you three."

Ron blinked. "Why's that?" George grinned mischievously. "Umbridge is inspecting McGonagall in your period. That old toad won't know what hit her." He glanced at Fred with mock longing. "Oh, to be a youth again, to experience the innocent glee of watching Umbridge be destroyed by the greatest Head of Gryffindor this century." Fred clapped Ron on the back. "Well, we'll expect a full report after." Before Gray finally sighed and undid his concealment spell, "Oh, for Merlin's sake, Gray, stop doing that!" Fred yelled as he jumped, startled. Gray chuckled, "You did that on purpose, didn't you?" he asked as Gray smiled. "Did not," he replied, and Fred shot back, "Did too!" They went back and forth before Fred gave up and left—though not before begging Gray to teach them the spell, which he refused.

-scene change-

The Divination classroom was bathed in the usual dim light, with a thick haze of incense swirling around Professor Trelawney, who stood before her students in her usual ethereal manner. "Greetings, my children," she intoned, her eyes wide and dramatic. "I sense even now that many of you have already made the transition into the beyond!" Her declaration was met with an amused smirk from Professor Umbridge, her toad-like smile gleaming unpleasantly. She glanced at Gray with interest. "Boy, you are shrouded in mystery. This wasn't the case before," she remarked. Gray smiled. "Yup, glad my domain could hide me now," he said, clearly intent on learning the lesson being taught. Much to Umbridge's displeasure, she scrutinized him, muttering, "Perfect spell practice, punctual, respectful to professors, and always jotting down notes. I'll find a weakness."

"Today," Trelawney announced, "we will continue interpreting prophetic dreams. Please divide into your groups and discuss your recent visions using the text as a guide." Harry and Ron exchanged weary glances as they opened their books. Meanwhile, Umbridge, clipboard in hand, interrupted with her sugary voice, "And how long have you been at this post?" Trelawney straightened, her pride evident. "Sixteen years as a guide to young seers," she declared. "And you are a descendant of Cassandra Trelawney?" Umbridge asked mockingly. "I am," Trelawney replied, though her voice wavered slightly. "Now, if you would kindly make a prediction for me?" Umbridge requested, her smile more a challenge than a request. "The Inner Eye does not See upon command!" Trelawney snapped, visibly flustered.

Later that day, the squad wandered the bustling streets of Hogsmeade. "Where are we going, Hermione?" Harry asked as she led them purposefully. "The Hog's Head," she replied, pushing open the creaky door of the pub. Inside, its dark, shabby corners were filled with shady figures. But at a brighter table sat a group of familiar faces—Dean, Neville, Ginny, and others. "What's going on?" Harry asked. Hermione explained, "I've mentioned my Defense Against the Dark Arts idea to some people." Gray sat with them as Hermione banged on the table, quieting the chatter. "We need to learn it properly, not the rubbish Umbridge is doing." Fred cheered, "Hear, hear!" Hermione's words hung in the air, and Fred asked Gray, "Did you really kill him?" Gray replied, "Yes, but he'll be back," nonchalantly, leaving the group uneasy as George added, "You seem awfully calm about having a Dark Lord after you."