"...Remember to keep the three 'D's in mind—first, focus your attention on your target, think about the place you're about to reach; second, resolve to occupy that imagined space—here, you must let the desire to reach it flood every part of your being; third, wave your magic wand, spin in place, get into the zone, everyone watch carefully, you must do this with enough grace and elegance..."
In the Hogwarts Great Hall, the Apparition Professor—Vicky Tagcross, a man dressed in all black which made his already pale complexion more noticeable, had such fine, transparent hair that one couldn't help but worry if a sudden breeze might blow him away. He wielded his magic wand like a pointer, indicating the curtain hanging behind him—
"...Mr. Sloper of Gryffindor, if you don't want to lose half a buttock during your first practice later, you'd better listen carefully, rather than continuing to distract Mr. Richard... Good, so I was just saying... Yes, beginners will experience slight oxygen deprivation when attempting Apparition, but you'll adapt with practice..."
At the head table, Professor Vicky continued pointing at the PPT and talking endlessly, while the recently named Jack Sloper clearly had no intention of quieting down, instead bowing his head and continuing to mutter in a very low voice, "This dung-head, wasting my Galleons, tethering on the podium..."
Tom didn't catch what the boy mumbled in the latter half of his sentence, but there was no need to guess—it was definitely nothing good.
Due to the inherent difficulty of Apparition magic and the fact that Professor Vicky repeated the "three D principles" dozens of times each class without ever practicing, the tedious course content led many little wizards, whose ears had grown callouses, to use the same names as their predecessors—
They gave this professor sent by the Ministry of Magic to teach them Apparition several nicknames starting with "D," including Dog Stink and Dung-head, which were among the more polite ones.
But even during the previously promised practice session, Professor Vicky continued to harp on the damned "three D's" for most of the class, and it seemed that before long, the students' resentment might gather and form in the air above the Great Hall.
"Yes, so you should've just gone to Honeydukes to spend all your money and then get a beating from your dad..."
Without even lifting his eyes from the wizard depicted on the PPT, Tom murmured back in a lower voice.
To be fair, he thought the professor's teaching wasn't bad. After all, this counted as "practical magic education," and for a course relying almost entirely on student talent, there were hardly any shortcuts apart from repeatedly emphasizing the key points and helping students adapt to side-along Apparition—there really wasn't a better teaching method.
After all, this class also carried a significant risk, and the consequence of splinching was far more severe than the greatest danger in the neighboring Potions Class, which was being poisoned by the professor.
"...Yes, Tom, you're a good student, but you'd better be careful."
Jack licked his lips, which were a bit dry due to the changing season—cough, cough. Of course, the boy caught the sarcastic undertone in Tom's words and immediately retorted, "I've been hearing that the dung-head often praises you, and I suspect he'll soon propose to you..."
The boy hadn't finished his sentence when his entire face suddenly scrunched up, and he hurriedly reached out to pat Tom's shoulder, only for the latter to twist out of reach.
Finally, at the moment when Professor Vicky instructed everyone to spread out their seats, Jack's face returned to normal. The boy rubbed his somewhat sore cheeks and spoke in frustration, "Damn it, Tom, if you do that to me again, I swear I'll—"
"You'll what, exactly?"
Hearing these words, Tom turned his head, his dark eyes calmly fixed on the other.
"—Pour chili oil in your underwear."
Jack didn't back down under the gaze, instead continuing to speak through gritted teeth—Tom's eyes, which could often intimidate dueling opponents, had no effect here, as this was entirely their normal way of interacting.
"Good luck with that."
The little wizards gradually stood up, and following Professor Vicky's wave of the magic wand, dozens of wooden hoops "grew" out of the ground, one corresponding to each other, so the little wizards naturally began to queue up and stand properly—
"...Now, everyone, step into the wooden hoop in front of you, focus, recall the three things I just stressed... You know what I'm going to say, so remember, don't fret, feel the pulse of space and magic..."
Professor Vicky's sharp voice echoed in the hall, his pale hands rubbing together as he anxiously surveyed each student standing in the wooden hoops, as if they were standing on dynamite instead of the floor.
Finally, the practical session arrived after countless theoretical repetitions.
The air was filled with tension, excitement, and a hint of impatience. Jack Sloper took a deep breath, his face turning red, clutching his magic wand and murmuring silently, while in the neighboring hoop, Tom appeared much calmer, his eyes slightly narrowed, as if truly feeling the "pulse" of space.
"Begin!"
A few seconds later, with a soft "pop," Tom's spinning figure blurred for a moment in place, then reappeared crisply in the center of another designated hoop a few steps away, the motion steady, with only the faint flutter of his clothes as evidence that he had just moved. A rare hint of satisfaction showed on Professor Vicky's pale face as he nodded toward him.
"What the heck!"
Suddenly, it seemed like a bit of a "situation" appeared on the other side. Tom turned his head to see Jack spinning violently in place like a drunken top, the magic wand in his hand whipping the air. Then, accompanied by a scream and a strange tearing sound, he successfully appeared inside the target hoop—
But unfortunately, he only succeeded halfway... behind him, two little legs pitifully remained in the original hoop, stumbling comically before standing firm.
"Mr. Sloper!"
Professor Wickey let out a brief scream like he had seen Godzilla battling Black Cat Detective, "Splinching! You're splinching! Quick! Like I said before, Merlin's Lace, quickly move your legs over!" Watching the pair of small legs still hopping in place, Professor Wickey felt his "teacher qualification certificate" melting like cream.
At this point, Tom quickly crouched down, grabbed the panicked little legs, and directly pressed them against Jack's leg stumps—
Then he took a bottle of Dittany from his pocket and sprinkled it on the seams of the wounds.
Thus, green smoke rose rolling up, and when it dissipated, everyone saw that the bleeding had stopped. The wound looked as though it had healed for several days, with new skin covering the exposed flesh, while Jack's legs, which had turned to liver color due to pain, also eased a lot.
"...Mr. Richard! Thank you so much—"
Professor Wickey rushed to Jack's side, the fear in his eyes finally disappearing after checking the boy up and down. In its place was a deep sense of affection, as he looked at Tom, who had preserved his job amidst the crisis, affectionately...
"..."
Suddenly, Tom felt that Jack's earlier remarks didn't seem entirely like exaggeration.
The tumultuous Apparition class proceeded without danger, until the bell rescued everyone before any serious mishaps occurred. Only one Ravenclaw girl lost her hair. Professor Wickey wiped nonexistent sweat from his forehead, muttering about the "attention points" of practicing, but the students, already distracted, swarmed out of the Great Hall.
The hallway was instantly filled with noise.
A cacophony of people discussing holiday plans, complaining about how hard Apparition is to learn, exchanging candies, and joking mixed together, colorful paper planes and fireworks launched by Peeves whizzed overhead. It's said this guy has already entered a strategic partnership with the newly opened Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes in Hogsmeade...
What? You're asking about the content of the collaboration?
Seems it was purely to give Filch some more work.
At this point, Jack threw his arm around Tom's shoulder—this action looked a bit awkward since Tom, though handsome, was slighter in build and shorter than most would-be-graduates around. This is an objective difference that came with a false report on age.
Fortunately, having secured twelve "O"s in the O.W.L.s exams, Tom received help from the Time Manager as guided by a predecessor, so now his age wasn't too different from his classmates.
"You saved my life... again."
Jack shook his legs as if confirming they'd still attached, "Well, I've lost count, should've just used those fifteen Galleons at Honeydukes for a binge—so, what's your Christmas plan this year? Staying in the library getting moldy or going home?"
Tom let him hold him, walking steadily with the crowd toward the entrance hall. He didn't comment on Jack's "getting moldy" remark, his black eyes sweeping through the corridor towards the small snowflakes beginning to fall outside, the castle covered in a faint layer of silver white.
"Mrs. Pince will also go home for the holidays..."
Tom's voice was calm, not revealing much emotion, "Going home... Hermione wrote last week that the Magic Congress has busy affairs at the year's end, can't make it back, Remus has moved, Sirius hasn't finished his trip yet, and as for William... he suggested I 'sometimes need to experience a normal, young person's Christmas'... meaning don't go bothering him."
"Oh, poor little Tom, no home for the Christmas... boo boo boo..."
After a while, Jack finally rubbed his aching mouth corners and regained his speaking ability, "No, I mean, doesn't that mean you're free? Want to spend Christmas at my place? My mom's mentioned it several times, said she must meet 'that ridiculously smart Tom', and my sister's been..."
"...Let's talk about it later."
Tom frowned, recalling Jack's sister—