For 30 + advance chapter: patreon.com/Snowing_Melody
As the aggressive administrative preparations for the highly anticipated Hogwarts Dueling Club got formally underway, the overall academic atmosphere in the castle shifted dramatically. Almost overnight, both Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts suddenly became the most insanely popular subjects in the curriculum.
The students' raw, enthusiastic energy for these specific classes was noticeably higher, and the young wizards listened to the lectures with a level of particular, terrifying seriousness usually reserved only for N.E.W.T. revisions. After all, nobody wanted to be humiliatingly blasted off the dueling platform in the first round of the upcoming tournament just because they hadn't paid attention to the Shield Charm.
This year's officially designated 'one-year-only' Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Ted Stokke, absolutely noticed this sudden, highly intense shift in student engagement.
Professor Stokke was a mildly eccentric, elderly wizard. He was always immaculately dressed in a perfectly tailored, light blue healer's robe that somehow remained perpetually spotless and new. His grooming details were obsessive; his silver hair and fingernails were always perfectly trimmed, and his hands were exceptionally, almost supernaturally well-maintained. Honestly, if you didn't look at his greying hair and the deep worry lines etched into his forehead, his smooth, pale hands looked exactly like those of a thirty-year-old man.
Although his profession was vastly, fundamentally different from the 'crazy Muggle' doctors who brutally cut people open with metal knives, as a former senior Healer in the infamous 'Spell Damage Department' at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Professor Stokke clearly possessed a fanatical knack for extreme hand care.
After he had formally retired from the exhausting, blood-soaked wards of St. Mungo's, Headmaster Dumbledore had personally, heavily recruited him to teach the cursed Defense position at Hogwarts. (It's also worth noting that he was a close blood relative of Blenheim Stokke, the highly renowned Muggle Studies scholar and controversial author of the book 'Muggles Who Notice'.)
Regulus had, of course, formally invited Professor Stokke to act as one of the primary, part-time faculty instructors and medical referees for the Dueling Club. However, Professor Stokke didn't quite approve of the violent, highly competitive idea. He had sternly told Regulus that legally sanctioning and holding public dueling competitions between volatile teenagers was not only inherently unsafe, but it would aggressively, needlessly increase the daily workload for Madam Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing...
Regulus clearly needed to change the man's mind.
Standing behind the heavy oak podium in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, Professor Stokke opened his personal, heavily annotated copy of The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection.
"The foundational defensive spell you all need to learn today is the Full Body-Bind Curse, the incantation for which is Petrificus Totalus," Professor Stokke announced, his clear voice carrying over the silence. "Please turn your textbooks to page one hundred and thirty."
The second-year little wizards below him quickly, frantically flipped their textbooks to the corresponding page. They then looked up intently at Professor Stokke, eagerly waiting for the absolute best, most essential part of his lectures:
The horrifying, real-world St. Mungo's medical case studies.
"When I worked in London, our specific ward once received a terrifying number of critical patients suffering from horribly botched variations of the Petrification Spell," Professor Stokke began, leaning against the podium. "For example, there was a wealthy pureblood witch who, after returning from a high-society holiday in magical Paris, had a sudden, foolish whim to permanently alter her skin to perfectly mimic the flawless texture of a marble sculpture. So, completely ignoring the fundamental laws of magic, she attempted to use a highly modified, untested version of the Petrification Spell directly on herself..."
The classroom was dead silent, hanging on his every word.
"Those of you familiar with the horrific reality of the Spell Damage ward should already know exactly how this story ends," Stokke said grimly. "Her experimental spell obviously went catastrophically wrong. Both of her arms violently, permanently transfigured into solid, heavy marble. Eventually, her terrified husband brought her screaming into our triage department for emergency help."
"Such unregulated, vanity spells involve incredibly complex, extremely dangerous aspects of permanent human Transfiguration," Stokke warned, scanning the wide-eyed faces of his students. "We had to aggressively administer boiling Mandrake Restorative Draughts and undergo agonizing counter-curse therapy. It took an entire team of senior Healers a full two months of excruciating work to finally restore her flesh to normal."
Stokke's eyes darkened. "Of course, not all vain patients are so incredibly lucky. To this very day, there is still a highly realistic, terrifyingly detailed stone statue of a Goblin permanently sitting in the waiting room on the fifth floor of St. Mungo's. It has been sitting in our specific ward for several hundred years, and we Healers are still genuinely, medically unsure if that statue was ever actually a living, breathing Goblin."
The little wizards below the podium shuddered, listening with rapt, horrified attention. Regulus's friendly acquaintance, Dirk Cresswell—a brilliant Muggle-born who was deeply fascinated by the intricate cultures of magical creatures like Goblins, Merpeople, and House-elves—looked particularly, profoundly disturbed by the statue story.
"So. You must all absolutely, thoroughly study the precise wand movements for today's spell," Professor Stokke smiled gently, a highly threatening glint in his eye. "Otherwise, if you botch the incantation during a duel, I will sadly have to welcome you to my former, highly agonizing department for long-term treatment."
Several of the little wizards physically shivered in their seats. Under Professor Stokke's highly effective, vivid, and terrifying medical descriptions, St. Mungo's Hospital had rapidly become a terrifying, nightmarish place completely comparable to Azkaban prison.
"But do not be entirely afraid," Stokke reassured them, raising his wand. "Our specific spell today is merely a temporary Full Body-Bind, which only causes the target's physical muscles to become rigidly paralyzed. Strictly speaking, it is not a true, elemental Petrification Spell. Besides, your raw magical power cores haven't quite reached the lethal level required to cast true Petrification yet anyway. First, we will get familiar with the exact incantation and the stiff wand movement—"
Sitting near the back, Regulus watched the professor work. It had to be said that due to his canonical knowledge of future, highly incompetent frauds like Gilderoy Lockhart and Dolores Umbridge, Regulus had always inherently considered the overall teaching standard of Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts to be highly questionable, if not outright negligent.
But Professor Stokke was undeniably, incredibly highly skilled. His deep, medical understanding of how combat spells actually affected the human body had reached a masterful, entirely different level.
Other typical DADA teachers only theoretically talked about the immediate, violent consequences of using spells in combat. Professor Stokke, however, practically considered exactly how to medically resolve and survive those violent consequences.
Such incredible, pragmatic medical talent, Regulus thought greedily. That is exactly the kind of referee my Dueling Club needs the most! I have to recruit him.
"Excellent, absolutely flawless form! Five points to Slytherin's Mr. Black!"
A few minutes into the practical exercise, after Regulus effortlessly, silently immobilized the squeaking white rat placed on the desk in front of him, Professor Stokke walked over and praised him admiringly.
"Thank you, Professor," Regulus said smoothly, lowering his hawthorn wand. "If you have a moment, I actually have a highly theoretical medical question."
Professor Stokke paused, gesturing for Regulus to ask with an encouraging, professorial look.
"What exactly is the fundamental, magical difference between the temporary 'Petrificus Totalus' spell we are safely learning today, and the 'true, elemental Petrification Spells' you frequently dealt with at St. Mungo's?" Regulus asked, his voice carrying clearly across the room.
The Professor thought deeply for a moment before answering seriously. "Today's specific spell doesn't actually cause any physical harm to the target's biological structure. Look closely at your rat, Mr. Black; its limbs simply cannot physically move, but its eyes are still frantically darting around, and its internal senses, heartbeat, and bodily functions are continuing entirely normally—"
"Whereas some true, highly advanced Petrification Spells can actively cause terrifying, temporary or even permanent structural damage to a person's biological body or their psychological mind. It is a highly malignant, deeply corruptive state of Dark magic," Stokke explained grimly. "Moreover, elemental petrification at that extreme, lethal level is closely, dangerously related to the permanent laws of human Transfiguration..."
"I see," Regulus said slowly, his dark eyes locking onto the professor. "But Professor, logically speaking... if you and the other Healers know exactly how to actively reverse and treat such horrific, dark patients... then you must also intimately know exactly how to cast such dark magic yourself in order to understand it, right?"
As soon as those highly controversial, taboo words left Regulus's mouth, the ambient murmuring and the clattering sounds of spell-casting in the classroom suddenly, violently quieted down.
Under the shocked, wide-eyed gaze of the entire class of little wizards, Professor Stokke hesitated, but ultimately, honestly nodded. "Yes. To cure a curse, a Healer must fully understand its mechanics."
"Then... should we also be actively learning how to cast it?" Regulus's second, highly provocative question made the classroom completely, suffocatingly silent.
Professor Stokke visibly recoiled, raising a silver eyebrow in profound surprise.
"You are all entirely too young. Such highly volatile, dark magic is absolutely not safe for you to even attempt..." Stokke warned firmly.
"But will the older, N.E.W.T.-level students get to learn it?" another Slytherin classmate immediately asked from the front row, his voice thick with morbid, highly ambitious curiosity.
"To my direct knowledge, Hogwarts absolutely does not offer any practical teaching courses in the casting of Dark magic," Professor Stokke replied carefully, his tone strictly towing the Ministry line. "This specific kind of highly destructive, elemental spell already falls heavily under the legal category of Dark Arts..."
Upon hearing the terrifying, highly stigmatized words "Dark Arts," some of the Muggle-born and half-blood little wizards in the room dramatically, fearfully gasped.
Regulus sneered internally. Human language is highly, politically defining. That's exactly why the gentle course studying dangerous magical creatures is happily called "Care of" Magical Creatures, while the highly restricted course studying combat magic is strictly called "Defense Against" the Dark Arts.
Such biased, highly political naming conventions subtly, aggressively left corresponding 'good' or 'bad' psychological impressions on impressionable minds. It was a classic, highly effective institutional trick designed to put 'ideological safety imprints' directly into the developing minds of the little wizards, keeping them docile.
And looking around at the fearful reactions of his classmates... Hogwarts' subtle, deeply pacifist ideological guidance was undeniably, highly successful.
"Then, Professor," Regulus pushed aggressively, entirely ignoring the gasps, "do actual Dark Wizards actively learn and utilize this kind of lethal, unblockable magic in combat?" He asked the question knowingly.
After all, he literally came from a notorious, highly fanatical family of not-so-light wizards. He knew for an absolute fact that his older relatives, like Bellatrix and her sadistic husband, almost exclusively relied on highly destructive, unforgivable Dark magic in a fight...
Professor Stokke hesitated for a long, painful moment. He looked at the intensely focused face of the Black heir, but ultimately, unable to go against his own harsh medical conscience, he nodded honestly. "Yes. They do."
"If Dark magic can truly cause permanent, irreversible, and highly lethal damage in a duel," Regulus stated clearly, his voice ringing with undeniable, terrifying logic, "then if we, as ordinary citizens, inevitably encounter these violent Dark Wizards in the real world... do the standard, Ministry-approved defensive spells available to us even possess the raw, destructive capability to effectively fight back and survive?"
"Dark magic... is indeed incredibly, terribly destructive..." Professor Stokke paused, rubbing his temples as if a massive, throbbing headache had suddenly formed. He continued, carefully choosing his words. "But the ultimate lethality of a spell, well... it technically has nothing to do with whether the Ministry officially classifies it as Dark magic..."
Bullshit, Regulus thought cynically.
For wizards—a heavily armed societal group who all naturally, legally 'possess lethal weapons (wands)' from the underage of eleven onwards—what exact political path do you honestly think they should logically take?
If every single citizen is legally armed with a magical gun, won't society eventually become completely, violently chaotic? (Ah, the classic American political debate applied to wands).
Not at all. Brutal, historical facts have repeatedly, undeniably shown: those who actively choose to use highly lethal, unrestricted Dark magic inherently possess far fewer moral scruples, their spell effects are vastly more destructive, and therefore, they are naturally, overwhelmingly more likely to survive and be on the winning side of a lethal firefight... Stokke had seen the horrifically mutilated, losing victims of this exact logic every single day in the wards of St. Mungo's.
Are these incredibly young children already starting to get a highly dangerous, morbid interest in actively learning Dark magic? Professor Stokke thought worriedly, looking at the eager faces of the Slytherins. Professor Dumbledore explicitly, strictly instructed me absolutely not to encourage the students to pursue the Dark Arts... I have to shut this down.
"I mean, just look at Headmaster Dumbledore, right?" Regulus suddenly chimed in smoothly, deliberately seeing Professor Stokke becoming deeply, politically stuck in thought. He offered the man a highly convenient, perfectly heroic lifeline. "And his legendary, world-saving duel against Grindelwald."
"Oh! Right! Exactly!" Professor Stokke physically breathed a massive, incredibly relieved sigh. He eagerly seized the heroic narrative. "It is precisely because Albus Dumbledore, the absolute most powerful, highly skilled Light wizard of this entire era, is fighting on our side that we successfully defeated the terrifying Dark Wizard Grindelwald! And that dark tyrant is now permanently imprisoned in Nurmengard."
"So," Stokke beamed, offering a comforting, highly pacifying smile to the classroom—deeply relieved that he had finally managed to bring the dangerous ideological conversation back around to Dumbledore's pacifist safety. "As long as you all practice your standard, Ministry-approved defensive spells extremely diligently, you absolutely do not need to worry about being overpowered by Dark Wizards and Dark magic."
"I completely understand, Professor," Regulus said, a brilliant, highly calculating smile suddenly breaking across his face. His dark eyes sparkled with absolute triumph. "In that exact case... what are your current thoughts on acting as the primary medical referee for my proposed Dueling Club? After all, if we are to survive, we absolutely must have a highly structured environment where we can practice our standard defensive spells more diligently!"
Stokke froze, realizing he had just been flawlessly, logically boxed into a corner by his own argument.
"Hmm... very well," Professor Stokke sighed, completely defeated by the twelve-year-old's flawless logic. "I will sign the application."
Later that evening, sitting by the fire in the common room, Regulus smirked.
It was a classic, highly manipulative psychological tactic. For example: if you politely go to an authority figure and say you want to learn how to aggressively protect yourself by setting up a highly competitive Dueling Club, the strict, pacifist teachers will almost certainly reject the violent proposal.
But... if you start publicly, logically advocating for the absolute necessity of aggressively learning highly lethal Dark Magic to survive? That same terrified authority figure will immediately, desperately rush in to 'compromise' and 'mediate' the dangerous situation. Suddenly, they will be overwhelmingly willing and happy to officially sanction your safe, heavily regulated Dueling Club just to stop you from doing something worse.
A certain highly famous, brilliant Muggle author surnamed Lu Xun truly did not deceive him about the psychological art of the extreme compromise.