By the time Amycus Carrow was done with Neville, he had been reduced to a gibbering mess, snot and tears running down his chubby face. Satisfied that he had sufficiently impressed his students with the importance of respecting his authority, the so-called teacher took a step back and admired his handiwork.
"One of you lot take this poor excuse for a martyr out of my sight," said Amycus, who was rapidly losing interest. "Enough pure blood has been shed for today, so to the Hospital Wing, I suppose."
With a snap of his fingers, Amycus released Neville from his bindings and from the spell keeping him suspended in mid-air, and he crashed heavily to the floor. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil quickly left their seats and scooped him onto their shoulders, their heads kept low in fear, and they frogmarched him out of the classroom, scurrying as fast as Neville's weighty body would allow.
"And good riddance," said Alecto pleasantly. "Now, who can tell me the difference between jinxes, hexes, and curses?"
…
Apart from the part of the lesson in which the teacher had tortured Neville, the Dark Arts class did not seem to mark any real departure from the regular Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons Oleandra was used to. It struck her that, in their cruel laziness, the Carrows had merely slightly adapted the curriculum to encourage the use of the Dark Arts… in order to ward off the Dark Arts.
Learning counter-curses and protective wards was all well and good, but at the end of the day, a duel would not end until one of the two parties involved ended up lying flat on their back, dead or otherwise.
And so, by the time the lesson neared its conclusion, Oleandra was rather surprised to find she had actually learned something. If anything, she would have expected a repeat of her fifth year, when the Ministry had sent Umbridge to fill the DADA post in order to stunt the students' learning of offensive magic for fear of a coup led by Dumbledore. However, it seemed that You-Know-Who's administration was confident enough in its ability to kick children while they were down to trouble itself with such paltry concerns as insurrection.
They were being trained as killers.
"We've got about twenty minutes left before the bell rings, I reckon," said Professor Carrow, checking his watch. "How about we put what we've learned into practice? Let's see…"
Amycus's gaze wandered over the sea of frightened faces crammed behind not enough desks.
"Why not pit Gryffindor against Hufflepuff, Professor?" Alecto said innocently. "They've hardly participated in the lesson, you must have given them quite a scare with that demonstration earlier…"
"An excellent idea, Professor," Amycus said, grinning evilly. "Why don't we have… Seamus Finnegan duel Ernest Macmillan? You may only use Nonverbal Vorpal Stinging Curses."
Oleandra's fingers instinctively formed the seal of Elhaz beneath her desk.
The regular Stinging Hex was painful enough, and allowing Seamus to perform a spell for the first time was a mistake most teachers made only once. Having been Seamus's classmate for six years now, Ernie knew he would be getting more than he had bargained for in this duel, and knowing what Seamus was capable of when he was trying to cast a spell without ill intent, he could only imagine what would happen if Seamus actually attempted to hex him.
Ernie raised his hand.
"I'm actually feeling a little under the weather," said Ernie, looking rather pale. "Maybe someone else could take my place…?"
It was obvious to anyone in the room that the Carrows were trying to destroy any sense of shared camaraderie that might exist between the Houses by having students hurl painful curses at one another.
"Come on up, Seamus, Ernest," said Alecto sweetly. "I assume you're already familiar with duelling rules? Take ten paces from each other, turn, bow… then on three, cast your spells! Now, wands at the ready…"
Dragging their feet, a reluctant-looking Seamus met an increasingly apprehensive Ernie at the front of the class, where they separated and took ten steps away from one another, then swivelled and bowed. ("One, two… three!" said Alecto.) Without even attempting an attack of his own, Ernie pre-emptively dived out of the way, leaving Seamus shaking his wand at the air on his own. The Irish boy looked very much constipated as he scrunched up his brow in concentration, trying and failing to nonverbally curse his opponent.
Ernie looked up at Seamus and blinked. Was the Gryffindor pretending to fail in order to spare him? Thanking him internally, Ernie pushed himself to his feet and brushed himself off, feeling his cheeks burn hot with embarrassment, and he started copying Seamus.
"A chimpanzee armed with a tree branch would have already succeeded by now," Amycus said, his tone dripping with contempt. "Perhaps you haven't been provided with enough incentive—"
It was at that moment that Seamus's stress reached its pinnacle. Fuelled by energy born of a desperate desire to avoid Neville's fate of ending up as a carved Christmas goose, he poured his magic into his wand, which responded in the only way it knew how: by exploding.
Ernie yelped in fright and hastily performed a Shield Charm, grateful for Harry's and Oleandra's lessons, deflecting the blast outwards and away from himself. Caught by surprise, the Carrow siblings were thrown off their feet by the shockwave, striking the blackboard and sliding pitifully to the ground, while the first row of desks and their occupants erupted into flames.
"Elhaz!" Oleandra shouted as a wave of scorching heat washed over her.
Acrid, foul-smelling smoke filled the classroom, prompting several students, including Oleandra, to cast Bubble-Head Charms upon themselves. Eventually, someone located a window and opened it, and after a few moments the opaque smog had cleared.
"Daphne, are you okay?" asked Oleandra, glancing around to inspect the extent of the damage. "I didn't see you use any…"
Oleandra's voice trailed off in shock.
Despite not having cast any protective charms or wards, her sister appeared completely untouched by the damage suffered by those around them in the first row. Crabbe and Goyle, sitting beside Daphne, were howling in pain, their skin badly burnt; even an adept duellist like Theo, next to Oleandra, had been too slow to shield himself properly, his eyebrows and robes slightly singed.
Curiously, the only other person in the first row apart from the Greengrass twins to have been spared appeared to be Draco— or rather, Loki. While everyone else's desks were charred, his remained untouched… and, even more curiously, it was the desk and its occupant behind him that seemed to have taken the brunt of the damage.