Dont forget to Vote and comment, its makes me happy …
Then the classroom detonated.
“No, Professor!” “Professor Quirrell stutters the second he gets nervous—we spend half the lesson guessing what spell he’s even trying to cast!” “Snape’s worse!
He’d take a hundred points from Gryffindor before anyone sat down!” “Please don’t leave—we’ll listen!
We swear!” “Fred, George, shut up!” “Quirrell’s garlic could kill a vampire at fifty paces!” “If Snape takes over we’ll be crying before the first duel even starts!” Several Gryffindors clutched their heads in theatrical despair.
“We don’t want Quirrell!” “We don’t want Snape!” “We only want Professor Styx!” Chaos rolled through the room.
Laughter, complaints, and pure panic mixed together.
The Hufflepuffs in the back were laughing so hard they were leaning on each other for support.
Styx leaned against the podium, watching the mess, and finally let out a quiet chuckle.
He raised one hand.
“All right.” “Jokes over.” The noise died in stages.
He straightened.
His wand turned once between his fingers.
“Today is not about fan mail.
It is not about the most elegant way to say the Killing Curse.” “Today is about spell chaining in actual combat.” The last snickers faded.
His voice carried weight now.
“Real dark wizards do not stand still and wait for you to finish a neat little chant.
You need to link defense, control, and counterattack into one continuous rhythm.
If your rhythm is faster than theirs, they never get the chance to breathe.” He flicked his wand.
Silver words formed in the air above the students.
Block.
Control.
End.
“The basic logic of a fight.
Block the attack.
Control the opponent.
Finish it.” “Sounds simple.” He looked over the class, mouth curling.
“Most of you still fail the first step the moment something actually moves toward you.” His gaze locked on the second row.
“Fred.
George.” Both twins sat bolt upright.
“You two love finishing each other’s sentences.
Today you demonstrate for everyone.” They exchanged a glance and broke into matching grins.
“Our honor, Professor!” Fred gave an exaggerated bow.
George added, “We will show the class a perfect chain.” They walked to the open floor, wands already out.
Students leaned forward.
Styx nodded.
“Good.
I’ll keep it basic.
Remember—do not stand still after you cast.” He raised his wand.
Two pitch-black figures rose from the floorboards, translucent and twisting, like living shadows stretched thin.
The room went quiet.
“Begin.” Fred moved first.
“Impedimenta!” George was only a heartbeat behind.
“Expelliarmus!” The transition was fast.
Styx’s wand was already up.
“Protego Maxima.” A transparent shield expanded.
Both spells glanced off and died.
He did not pause.
“Impedimenta.” “Stupefy.” The two spells left his wand almost as one.
Fred’s body locked mid-step.
George took the Stunning Spell full in the chest and flew backward, rolling twice across the padded mats before stopping.
A collective gasp filled the classroom.
Styx continued as if nothing had happened.
“See the problem?” “They were fast enough.
Their rhythm was wrong.
One shield broke the entire sequence.” He tapped the floating words with his wand.
“A real chain is not stacking spells at random.
It is seizing the exact gap between the end of one spell and the start of the next.
That is when the opponent is weakest.” He looked down at the twins.
“Get up.
Again.
This time you get a chance at revenge.” Fred pushed himself up, rubbing his shoulder.
George tightened his grip on his wand.
The playful grins were gone.
Real fight had replaced them.
“We won’t be careless, Professor.” “Bring it.” Fred rolled his sleeves.
“Time for the Weasley brothers’ real combo.” They raised their wands together.
“Legilimens!” Someone in the back burst out laughing.
“That’s Legilimency!” “What are you even trying?” Styx’s mouth curved.
He had seen it coming.
“Protego.” The shield bloomed.
Then, without pause: “Expelliarmus.” “Levicorpus.” Three spells in one smooth breath.
Both wands tore free.
The next second the twins hung upside down in mid-air, swaying like a pair of particularly offended roosters.
The classroom froze.
Then it exploded with laughter.
“The Professor is evil!” “They look like sausages!” Fred’s face was scarlet.
“Professor… this is revenge…” George swung gently beside him.
“Blatant revenge…” Styx strolled over and caught both flying wands.
“Revenge?” “Of course.” “You two have the loudest mouths in this class.” He cancelled the spell.
The brothers hit the mats with twin thuds.
The laughter doubled.
Styx tossed their wands back.
“You did one thing right.
Your transition speed was solid.
Timing is still the problem.” He turned to the full class.
“Remember this.
In a real fight, raw speed is never the most important thing.” “Rhythm is.” “Next lesson you duel in pairs.
I will not tell you when to block or when to control.
If you get blasted across the floor, crawl back up and figure out why.” His eyes returned to the twins.
The smile was mild and dangerous.
“Especially you two.” “Next time you feel like putting on a double act at my expense, practice today’s material first.” “Otherwise…” He paused.
“I might hang you from the ceiling.” Fred and George looked at each other, then offered identical, bitter salutes.
“Yes, Professor.” “Understood.” Laughter rolled through the room again, but underneath it the students had already tightened their grips on their wands.
Styx swept the classroom once and nodded.
“All right.” “Group practice.
Now.” “Show me how badly you can butcher a chain.”