At noon the next day, by one of the long tables in the Great Hall.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were eating lunch together. Hermione had spread a handful of beautiful buttons across the table to show Harry and Ron, she had transfigured them from beetles in that morning’s Transfiguration class.
"What class do we have this afternoon?" Harry asked, noticing that Ron was still in low spirits over his damaged wand and trying to change the subject.
"Defense Against the Dark Arts! Professor Gray’s class." Ron looked at the timetable, and his mood seemed to improve immediately.
Hermione, meanwhile, was being oddly uncharacteristic. For once, she was not lecturing them about everything she had learned from previewing the subject, which made Ron look at her in surprise.
"Huh?" Ron grabbed her timetable and said, startled, "Why have you crossed out all of Professor Gray’s classes?"
Hermione snatched the timetable back and said angrily, "Because Professor Gray is not a proper teacher at all!"
"Just look at the books he assigned! These aren’t proper textbooks!"
She pulled three books out of her bag and slapped them down on the table. Their bindings were crude, and they were not even properly published editions. They looked more like books the school had hastily printed in-house.
The thickest one was called The Adventurer’s Handbook. The second was When Your Wand Snaps: The Art of Physical Negotiation. The third was even more outrageous: Think Like a Rogue: A Battlefield Survival Guide.
"’Physical negotiation’? ’Think like a rogue’?" Hermione pointed at the titles, her voice full of disbelief. "This isn’t what witches and wizards are supposed to be learning! If I’m going to spend time on this, I’d rather reread Voyages with Vampires by Gilderoy Lockhart!"
"But I think he’s pretty great," Harry said through a mouthful of bread slathered with jam. "He spoke up for us last night."
"That was indulgence!" Hermione shot Harry a stern look. "You broke school rules, nearly exposed the wizarding world, and he actually praised you for it! That’s not just irresponsible, it’s contempt for the law!"
"Oh, give it a rest, Hermione," Ron muttered. "You’re just annoyed because we came by car. Anyway, I think it’s the class I’m looking forward to most this term."
"You’ll regret it." Hermione gave a cold snort and stuffed all three books back into her bag. "I’m going to speak to Professor McGonagall about this class."
...
In the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom inside the castle, the room was already packed with Gryffindor and Slytherin students by the time the bell rang.
"I heard this year’s Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is barely older than we are!"
Draco Malfoy was sitting in the front row with his legs carelessly propped up on the desk, loudly bragging to his group of cronies. "My father says Dumbledore picked him up out of some swamp in the Albanian forest. These days, any vagrant can get a teaching job here."
"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry snapped coldly.
"What is it, Potter? You like him that much?" Malfoy sneered. "I heard you and Weasley nearly got expelled last night. Is it because he begged the Headmaster for mercy that you’re acting like some kind of-"
Bang
The classroom door swung open, cutting off Malfoy’s taunt.
Lynn entered in that sharply tailored black robe of his. He was not carrying any thick spellbooks, only a thin stack of parchment in one hand.
He did not even glance at Malfoy. As he passed by Draco’s desk, he merely tapped the tabletop lightly with one finger.
Without any incantation at all, Malfoy’s raised legs suddenly gave way, as if some invisible force had swept them out from under him. He and his chair went crashing over backward onto the floor with a loud thud.
A gasp rose from the Slytherin side, while the Gryffindors burst into laughter.
"During class, please sit properly."
Malfoy scrambled back to his feet in embarrassment, his face burning red. But when he looked at Lynn’s calm, almost cold back, he opened his mouth, then finally sat down again through gritted teeth.
"I am Lynn Gray."
Lynn turned to face the class, his gaze sweeping across each youthful face.
"Put your books away. You won’t need them today."
"In this class, I will not teach you how to wave your wands elegantly."
He snapped his fingers. The parchments in his hand scattered into the air by themselves, each one landing precisely in front of a student.
"I’m going to teach you how to deal with danger, or, to put it more simply, how to stay alive. First, I’d like each of you to complete this assessment."
Hermione frowned as she looked down at the parchment that had floated to her desk. Across the top were the words Combat Style Aptitude Assessment, and the questions beneath it were utterly bizarre.
Q1: If you encounter a ten-foot troll in the middle of the forest while it is eating, what do you do?
A. Charge it and smash its knees with the heaviest object you can find.
B. Quietly climb a tree and use the height advantage to pelt the back of its head with stones.
C. Stay at a safe distance and bombard it with spells.
D. Hide in the bushes and tell your teammates what the troll’s weaknesses are.
Q2: Which of the following problems are you best at solving?
A. Carrying a heavy cauldron with your bare hands.
B. Sprinting down the corridor before Filch catches you.
C. Solving the riddle for Ravenclaw Tower.
D. Convincing someone else to give you the last slice of pumpkin pie.
The classroom soon filled with the scratching of quills. The students were all drawn in by these strange questions, unlike anything they had seen before.
Harry finished quickly. For the first question, he chose B without hesitation. For the second, he chose B as well.
Ten minutes later, after walking around and reviewing everyone’s answers, Lynn turned to the blackboard and drew a large hexagon. At each point, he wrote one word:
[Strength] [Dexterity] [Constitution] [Intelligence] [Wisdom] [Charisma]
"Very interesting."
Lynn tapped the blackboard.
"In traditional wizarding education, you are taught a false idea: that there is only one way for a wizard to fight. You plant your feet, wave your wand, compare spells, and see whose incantation is stronger."
"But that is unbelievably stupid. In a real fight, no one is going to stand there and duel you fairly from the front."
He pointed to the corner labeled Strength.
"If your build is strong enough, you can use a Levitation Charm to control your enemy, then rush in and solve the problem with your fists. As long as you can put the enemy down, no one ever said a wizard isn’t allowed to use his hands."
Then he pointed to Dexterity.
"If you’re agile enough, you can circle around behind the enemy without being detected and fire a Stunning Spell into their back. Trust me, that’s far more efficient than a straight duel."
"It is only when your Intelligence is high enough", he tapped the word Intelligence, "to decide which spell is most appropriate in which situation, that you’re suited to standing safely at range and continuously hurling offensive magic."
"Magic is simply a tool that helps you make the most of your strengths. It is not a set of shackles."
Lynn let his gaze sweep across the classroom.
"Finding the style of combat and defense that fits your natural talents, that is the true core of this class."
He quickly noticed Hermione with her hand thrust high into the air, her face flushed bright red.
"Miss Granger."
Lynn indicated that she could speak.
"Professor, I’m sorry, but this is complete nonsense!"
She stood and spoke loudly, her voice trembling slightly with agitation.
"Defense Against the Dark Arts is supposed to be about learning how to deal with dangerous creatures and how to use counter-curses against Dark magic, isn’t it? When witches and wizards face danger, are we supposed to pull out swords and charge in instead of using our wands?"
The whole class fell silent. The Slytherins were openly enjoying the spectacle, while the Gryffindors looked at Hermione with some concern.
Lynn, however, did not get angry. Instead, he looked at the stubborn young bookworm with a smile.
"Miss Granger, as a proud Gryffindor..."
He stepped down from the platform and walked slowly to Hermione’s desk, his voice rising slightly.
"Tell me this, of the four great founders of Hogwarts, what is the most famous and most iconic relic left behind by Godric Gryffindor?"
Hermione froze.
The answer was so obvious that anyone who had read Hogwarts: A History would know it, and of course she knew it perfectly well.
"It’s... it’s..."
She stammered, and all the force in her voice instantly weakened.
"Louder, Miss Granger."
"It’s a sword! A goblin-made silver sword!"
"Correct. Five points to Gryffindor."
Lynn snapped his fingers, then turned back to face the class.
"Exactly. A sword. Not some trinket, not some treasured ornament, but a sharp, enchanted longsword forged from rare materials."
With a casual motion through the air, Lynn conjured an illusion: Godric Gryffindor, sword in hand, cutting down a troll in one magnificent stroke.
"Think about it, young witches and wizards. If Gryffindor himself believed that a wizard only needed to stand at a distance and wave a wand, then why would he have goblins forge a weapon like that for him? To carve his steak?"
The room erupted in laughter. Even Malfoy, who had just been knocked over, could not help curling his lips into a smile.
"The truth is this, "
Lynn’s expression turned serious.
"Even the great Gryffindor understood that when a monster’s claws are already swinging toward your face, there often isn’t time to recite a spell. At that moment, the most efficient form of ’defense’ is to take its head off with an enchanted sword."
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