Draco held his breath, paying no attention to how awful the surroundings were. He pressed his eyes tightly against the gap and watched the scene below.
The leader in the black cloak wore a serpent-shaped clasp on his chest. Draco secretly gave him the nickname "Viper."
The man flicked his wand, and with a snap, a box in the corner of the room flew open. Inside was a squeaking mass of gray rats.
"I trust you haven't forgotten the purpose of today's activity."
Viper levitated one rat out, dropping it onto the ground in the middle of the crowd. He then swept his gaze around the circle.
"Watch closely. This is the Cruciatus Curse—Crucio!"
Viper hissed the incantation. The rat's body stiffened violently, and a bone-chilling shriek tore from its throat. Its limbs twitched in spasms, and its beady eyes bulged wide, overflowing with pain no human could truly comprehend.
Draco clenched his fist so tightly his knuckles turned pale.
A few seconds later, the spell ended. The rat lay curled on the floor, and its tiny body rose and fell with ragged, desperate gasps.
The rats still in the box didn't know exactly what had happened, but they sensed their kin's torment. They squealed in terror, frantically trying to escape.
Then the whole box lifted into the air and dropped with a thudinside the circle of cloaked figures.
"Each of you, take one. Practice the curse well."
Viper looked at the fearful expressions around him and said with forced patience: "Remember—what matters is a strong desire. You must want the target to suffer."
After a brief hesitation, everyone took a rat. The two disguised wizards, "Belby" and Antoine, did the same.
"Did you see that?" Antoine whispered. "That guy is almost imitating the way you teach in class."
"What's supposed to be interesting about this?"
Wade guided a rat out of the box with his wand and muttered disdainfully under his breath:
"A bunch of fools treating Dark magic like a game. Do they really think the Unforgivable Curses are banned just because the Ministry cares about protecting life?"
The Cruciatus Curse, the Imperius Curse, and the Killing Curse—together they were known as the Unforgivable Curses. To cast any of them on a human was to earn a lifetime sentence in Azkaban.
Yet in terms of sheer destructive power, Grindelwald's Fiendfyre Shield (Protego Diabolica) far surpassed the Killing Curse, which could only strike one victim at a time.
But the Fiendfyre Shield was classified as Dark magic merely because of its power, without being branded "Unforgivable."
Similarly, the Confundus Charm could strip away a person's will—or even be used on magical objects—yet it was treated as an ordinary spell.
For wizards, causing pain or even death didn't require an Unforgivable Curse. Even a simple Levitation Charm could suffice.
The reason those three curses alone were deemed unforgivable wasn't their cruelty, but because they could so easily corrupt a soul.
Both caster and victim risked having their spirits twisted, their will tainted. For the wizard especially, wielding such spells meant paying with their own humanity in exchange for greater power.
The essence of the Unforgivable Curses lay not in wand movements or pronunciation, but in the caster's intent—the surge of malice within. A burning desire to hurt, to control, to snuff out life.
Without that intent, if sympathy or hesitation entered the caster's heart, even the Killing Curse might do no more than give someone a nosebleed.
Hearing Wade's words, Antoine laughed softly.
"They really are a bunch of arrogant fools. But Wade, do you know? These clowns you find laughable have secretly built up quite a bit of influence."
Wade looked at him with doubt. "Influence?"
"Ignorant Muggles can be bewitched by cults full of loopholes, and stupid wizards only need a few slogans that sound convincing to march straight off a cliff."
Antoine lazily waved his wand, knocking the rat before him unconscious, then chuckled and said:
"Wizards only know a few more spells—that doesn't make their brains much sharper than Muggles'. And their rhetoric is appealing to certain people, isn't it?"
"Then why are you here today?" Wade flicked his wand too, startling his rat into squeaking twice.
He calmed it down, then asked, "To investigate? Or to guide them?"
"Neither." Antoine leaned closer to Wade. "Mr. Grindelwald sees them as excellent observation subjects… and when the time comes, they'll make very useful pawns."
Wade frowned. "I hate having such uncontrollable forces around me. Worst of all, they're stupid. You can never predict what disasters a group of idiots might cause once they band together!"
And every one of those fools was armed with a "gun." Some of them even had good aim—capable of wreaking serious havoc.
"For now, bear with it," Antoine said. "They won't be jumping around for long. They may think they're well-hidden, but if my judgment is right, someone has already been watching them…"
Before he could finish, a piercing shriek split the air.
Both men turned their heads at once. A rat's body had twisted into an impossible angle, its screams sharp as needles stabbing at the eardrum.
In front of Wade, the rat that had been cowering on the ground was frightened out of its wits. It sprang up and bolted, and Wade didn't bother to stop it.
His eyes remained fixed in the direction of the scream.
Unlike the two who were half-heartedly going through the motions, most of the students were practicing diligently. And now, at last, someone had succeeded.
The student who cast the spell looked shocked themselves. Their wand arm trembled slightly, and they instinctively stepped back.
Hiding in the pipe, Draco froze in place. He thought he had recognized that person.
It was Pansy.
"Excellent! Excellent, my friend!" Viper strode over, seizing the writhing rat and holding it up for all to see. "Look! She's done it!"
He marched back and forth through the crowd, raising his voice:
"Remember what I told you before! The Cruciatus Curse doesn't rely on brute force. No matter how hard you swing your wand, it won't add an ounce of power!"
"I'm talking to you, Goyle—stop flailing your wand around! It's not an axe!"
"The right way is to focus—picture the person you hate most, and make them suffer a fate worse than death!"
"Nott, don't obsess over pronunciation. What matters is practice! Keep at it—before we finish tonight, every one of you must succeed at least once!"
"B-but…" Nott stammered.
"What is it? Do you have an objection?" Viper glared at him viciously.
"N-no… nothing…" Nott lowered his head and mumbled in fear.
Another student shot him a scornful look, brushed his hair from his forehead, and turned back with determination. He was going to try again—he felt like he was just beginning to grasp it.
He raised his wand and was about to cast when suddenly something felt wrong. Out of the corner of his eye…
Did I just see something?
He turned his head—and in the narrow gap of the pipe, there glinted a pair of reflective eyes staring back at him!
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