Tuesday!
Another ordinary Herbology class.
It's worth noting that Hermione earned a point for Gryffindor, and Neville, usually so timid, also answered one of Professor Sprout's questions correctly, earning the applause of the entire class.
Afterward, the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, which the whole class had been eagerly anticipating, finally began—except for Damon.He had already claimed a seat in the back corner of the classroom.His behavior sparked Hermione's disapproval.
Even Ron and Harry were puzzled—why was Damon acting so disinterested in such an important class?"I bet he thinks his Defense Against the Dark Arts skills are so advanced he doesn't need to listen to the teacher," Hermione said, glancing toward the corner and sharing her theory with Ron and Harry.
That makes sense," Ron said, as if it all clicked. "It's totally Damon's style. I mean, he did take down that fourth-year Slytherin on the train.
I don't think Damon's like that, Harry said hesitantly, looking over at Damon, who was engrossed in a book titled Common Spells and Countermeasures."Come on, mate, don't defend him more than I do!" Ron said, exasperated.Before Ron could say more, a strong whiff of garlic wafted through the room, making him gag on the spot.
Damon fanned the air in front of him, frowning slightly but resisting the urge to cast a spell to clear it away.Quirinus Quirrell, the first-year Defense Against the Dark Arts professor—and the man currently possessed by the Dark Lord Voldemort—had entered the room.Until Voldemort grew stronger, Damon preferred to avoid drawing their attention.
A few months of patience wouldn't hurt.But while Damon could tolerate Quirrell's quirks, the other young wizards couldn't. They bombarded the new professor with questions, only to be disappointed. Quirrell spent the entire class rambling about useless folklore, his stammer preventing him from completing a single coherent sentence, let alone teaching a spell.
As the students' eyes glazed over, Damon wanted to tell them, I know you're frustrated now, but just wait—it'll get worse.That afternoon, Ron and Harry sat in the Gryffindor common room, griping about how awful their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was. Even Neville, usually reserved, joined in, clearly disappointed."Honestly, if Quirrell keeps this up, I'd rather have Damon teach us!" Ron said.
He's the Dueling Prince, after all!""Dueling Prince?" Harry repeated softly, his attention shifting. "He doesn't seem to care about that title.
Why not?
It's a wicked cool title!
Ron said, practically beaming with pride. On the train, he'd seen the fourth-year Slytherin crash right in front of his carriage and watched Damon casually point his wand at the older student, cool as ever.
Neville nodded in agreement—he'd witnessed the whole thing even more clearly than Ron.Seamus, who hadn't seen the full scene, was about to ask for details when Hermione returned from the library, arms full of books, and interrupted.
Does anyone know where Damon went?" she asked."Isn't he in the library?
Ron said."I'm certain he's not," Hermione replied. She'd made a point of checking the library thoroughly before leaving.
Not in the library? Then where could he be?" Ron's curiosity piqued.
What if Damon's hiding some big secret? Some friend he is—we're roommates!
Maybe he has a good reason, Harry said, defending Damon.
"Maybe,"
Hermione said with a shrug. "I hope you figure it out."She headed to the dormitory to drop off her books, then left the common room.
Ron and Harry watched her disappear and reappear in the stairwell before heading toward the exit."Hermione, aren't you going to discuss this with us?" Ron called."I have too many books to read to waste time on games," she replied without turning back.
But if you find out anything and want to share, I'd appreciate it.Do you think she's looking down on us?" Ron asked Harry, staring at her retreating figure.Well… maybe," Harry said.
Truthfully, he felt Hermione's disdain was aimed more at Ron than him, but to spare Ron's feelings, he went along with it.They didn't have long to dwell on it, though.By Thursday morning, the first-year Gryffindors were buzzing with excitement.
A notice in the common room announced they'd have a flying lesson—though, unfortunately, with the Slytherins.At breakfast, Hermione wouldn't stop talking about flying tips she'd read in The Origins of Quidditch, much to Harry and Ron's annoyance.
Damon ate quietly, staying out of the conversation, while Neville listened to Hermione's advice with rapt attention.
Seamus Finnigan, meanwhile, bragged about his childhood, claiming he'd been zooming around the countryside on a broom since his magic first awakened.Ron, not to be outdone, casually mentioned nearly crashing into a hang glider while riding his brother Charlie's old broom.The students from wizarding families kept chattering about Quidditch until the arrival of the morning owls interrupted them.Neville's grandmother had sent him a Remembrall.
It glowed bright red, signaling he'd forgotten something. His face fell, and even his excitement for Quidditch dimmed.Just then, Draco Malfoy sauntered by the Gryffindor table, spotted the red Remembrall, and burst into laughter.He fixed his gaze on Damon and said, "Damon, you could've joined Slytherin. It's a real shame—a genius like you, stuck with these fools."He strutted off like a peacock, then turned back to the group. "Look at our Dueling Prince, so much greater than the Chosen One, yet he spends his days with an idiot like Longbottom. Isn't he worried he'll catch stupidity?
Malfoy, unless you want to miss this morning's Charms class because you're petrified, I suggest you shut it,
Damon said, setting down his sausage without a hint of anger.At the word "petrified," Malfoy's face darkened, no doubt recalling his humiliation on the train. He stormed off, muttering.
Just you wait! he spat, turning back after a few steps to glare at Damon."Petrificus Totalus!.
Damon shouted, startling Malfoy so badly he jumped, goosebumps erupting across his skin. But Damon hadn't even drawn his wand—it was just a prank.Realizing this, Malfoy's face flushed with embarrassment, and he fled amid the laughter of nearby students.The incident dampened Harry and the others' excitement for flying lessons, and they turned to discussing how insufferable Malfoy was.
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(End of this chapter)