Chapter 251
Without the pressure of the tournament, everything at Hogwarts seemed calm again.
But no one knew that beneath this rare peace, something far more dangerous was quietly brewing.
"Pay attention," Moody said from the front of the classroom, his rough voice echoing through the room. "When facing a Dark wizard, dark magic can come at you at any moment. If you want to defend yourself properly, you must remain constantly alert."
It was Defense Against the Dark Arts, and today's lesson was unusually theoretical.
For someone like Alastor Moody, who usually favored hands-on teaching, this kind of lecture was rare.
"Dark magic is a sharp spear. Defense is a solid shield," Moody continued slowly. "Which side wins… depends on the strength of the one wielding it."
He tapped his wooden leg against the floor as he walked between the desks.
"To be blunt, any Dark wizard who only knows how to use the Killing Curse isn't even worth my attention," he added with clear disdain.
At the mention of the Killing Curse, several students visibly tensed.
"Goyle, Crabbe—if you keep staring at that beetle on your desk, I might just make you eat it," Moody snapped suddenly, striking the edge of their desk with his wand.
His magical eye swiveled, catching every tiny movement. Nothing escaped him.
The two boys immediately shrank back in their seats.
"Idiots," Moody muttered, before continuing.
"A wizard's duel isn't just about who has more power or who knows more spells. It's about adapting to the situation."
He paused, then said slowly,
"To put it simply—it's about imagination."
"Imagination?" Pansy murmured under her breath, frowning slightly.
"Yes. Imagination."
Draco nodded faintly. This wasn't new to him.
In his mind, almost every problem could be solved with the right idea—and the ability to act on it.
In battle, there were countless ways to counter an attack.
You could dodge.
You could cast defensive magic.
You could disrupt your opponent's rhythm.
You could vanish, reposition, regain control.
Spells like the Shield Charm were reliable, while countless minor jinxes—though weak—were fast and unpredictable.
And if they landed, they still worked.
"The Killing Curse may end things instantly," Moody continued, "but wizards aren't livestock waiting to be slaughtered. Even animals struggle before they die, don't they?"
A few uneasy laughs rippled through the class.
"In reality, the success rate of that curse isn't nearly as high as people think."
"Avada Kedavra is not invincible. Just because you can't block it doesn't mean death is inevitable."
"Every Auror goes through rigorous training," Moody said, his magical eye rolling. "We have ways to deal with the Unforgivable Curses. If we didn't, we'd be helpless the moment a Dark wizard used them."
"So the first step is avoidance. That's what we're learning here."
He paused, letting the words settle.
"Using your surroundings is critical," he added. "You've all seen this already—whether in previous lessons… or in the recent Triwizard Tournament."
"Water, sand, terrain—everything matters."
"A real wizard turns the environment into an advantage."
Moody stopped walking and looked around the classroom.
"Let's say you're in a completely dark cave. You know a Dark wizard is nearby—only a few meters away. What do you do?"
He tapped his temple.
"And assume my magical eye doesn't work."
The classroom filled with whispers.
After a moment, Moody spoke again.
"Well?"
Draco stood up.
"Use a light-producing spell," he said calmly. "Something like Lumos."
A student nearby scoffed quietly.
"Wouldn't that just make you an easy target?"
Draco didn't even look at him.
"No. It's common sense. When someone's eyes adjust to darkness and are suddenly exposed to bright light, they're overwhelmed. It causes instant discomfort."
"I'd close my eyes in advance," he continued.
"So what's the difference?" the same student muttered.
"The difference," Moody cut in sharply, "is preparation versus surprise."
He pointed his wand toward Draco.
"I've been in that situation before. Without my magical eye, I used light. The Dark wizard wasn't prepared—he stumbled, made noise, gave away his position."
Moody tapped his ear.
"I used sound, cast a spell, and subdued him."
He gave a short, humorless laugh.
"The deciding factor? A simple lighting charm. Funny, isn't it?"
"But that's reality."
He straightened slightly.
"Courage and intelligence," he said firmly. "Those are what define a truly skilled wizard."
"This was just a basic example."
"In high-level duels, the Killing Curse is often used as a threat—a strategic tool. It requires focus, intent… and opportunity."
"Most of the time, equally skilled wizards exchange spells back and forth, neutralizing each other."
He paused deliberately.
"The spells used most often are not lethal ones…"
He let the silence stretch—
"Transfiguration."
A few students blinked in surprise.
"If two wizards just stand there throwing spells at each other," Moody said dryly, "that's not a duel—that's stupidity."
Just then, the bell rang.
The sound echoed through the classroom, signaling the end of the lesson.
"That's all for today," Moody said, though he didn't seem finished at all.
Then his gaze shifted.
"Malfoy. Come to my office later."
For just a brief moment, something cold and unsettling flickered in his eyes.
"Yes, Professor," Draco replied.