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We trained every day. Hermione was looking for her own witchcraft style, and her, not pronounced adventurism, which was hidden behind the face of a strict and correct girl, could not but affect this style. It looked pretty mundane and commonplace. Hermione could communicate, smile, grimace a little while either tapping herself on the shoulder with a wand or as if thoughtfully, bringing it to her mouth or just holding it at belly level like me. It looked so natural that you stop paying attention to the wand. A short moment, and you are already flying into the wall and do not understand: "How, where, why?". Yes, a couple of times she caught me inattentive, and even my superhuman, I dare to hope, speed did not help me in any way.
Time passed, days flew by, the sudden first snow had already fallen, one had only to go to bed. Just yesterday, the land around was gloomy and dull, the smooth surface of the Black Lake justified its name, turning into a gloomy reservoir. But then you woke up the next day, and everything around is covered with snow, as if after a snowfall.
McGonagall collected applications from students wishing to stay at the castle for Christmas. There were more people willing to leave than last year, and our dean collected only a few applications from the entire House. Mine and Hermione were among them.
Sometimes I was bursting with curiosity - how was the Golden Duo doing in the absence of Hermione in their company, but after thinking it wisely, I decided that I didn't want to know anything and go to them too. The guys are running, fussing, asking someone, looking for something, quarreling with Malfoy, for which special thanks to them. After that incident, Draco didn't climb up to me but looked angrily and resentfully. Well, he doesn't bother us - the better for him.
After another week, as always, after the morning practice and shower, Hermione and I went down to the Great Hall for breakfast and found an entertaining announcement, around which the students crowded. Dueling club.
"Oh, even the nerds are interested," said Ron, amid the chuckles of the others. "This is a dueling club, Max. What are you going to do there? Throwing books at each other?"
Neither I nor Hermione reacted to this pass, and Harry pulled his friend aside. The guys around were discussing the idea of the club, making assumptions and guesses.
"Do you want to prove yourself?" I asked Hermione over breakfast.
"I do not know. We'll see."
But I can see what she wants in her eyes. Of course, the best student is great, but it would also be nice to show the skill.
At eight o'clock in the evening, we went to the Great Hall, accompanied by Percy. Our permanent guide was so imbued with our safety that he extremely insistently asked us to notify him if it was necessary to change location. Well, yes, we really bring a lot of points.
The Great Hall looked very different and subtly the same. The illusion on the ceiling now showed only impenetrable darkness. Enchanted candles were burning under the ceiling. The dining tables were gone, and instead, there was a large dueling podium, and along the walls, there were platforms on which students could sit. And there was someone to be accommodated - it seemed that almost all of Hogwarts had gathered in the Hall. The faces are tense and agitated in the hands of the magic wands. Everyone whispered with enthusiasm. We made our way through the crowd closer to the duel podium.
"How do you think," Hermione asked, reaching out slightly in my direction. "Who will teach the classes? I sincerely hope that Professor Flitwick. He's a five-time dueling champion."
"The probability is extremely small."
"Why?"
"If he could - he would have taught students a long time ago. But he is the Head of Ravenclaw and the choir curator."
"Is there a choir at Hogwarts?" Hermione couldn't hold back her surprise.
"I'm shocked myself."
"But it would be gr... Ah, shit. Forget it."
Hermione shook her head in the direction of the stairs to the podium, along which the unforgettable Lockhart climbed. As always, he looked obscenely good, although, in this beige jacket with rich embroidery, he clearly had a small belly. Hehe.
"Come closer! Can everyone see me? Can everyone hear me? Perfectly!" said Lockhart, flashing a smile. "Professor Dumbledore approved my proposal to create a Dueling Club at the school. By attending the club, you will learn to defend yourself if circumstances suddenly require. And my life experience tells me that such circumstances are not uncommon. Read about it in my books. I will be assisted by Professor Snape."
With these words, Snape walked to the other side of the podium in a little bit unusual clothes. Although ... In fact, he simply wasn't wearing a robe, so it seemed a kind of coat made of thin fabric was somewhat unusual. Or is it a very elongated semblance of a jacket? I don't know.
"He's a little good at dueling," Lockhart continued, ignoring the barely disguised hostility of both Snape and the Slytherins. I suppose they had a much better idea of the Potions Master's capabilities.
"Now, we will show you how duelists fight with magic wands. Oh, don't worry, my young friends, I will return the Potions professor to you safe and sound."
"It would be great if they killed each other!" Ron spoke up rather loudly. Loud enough for almost everyone to hear, despite the quiet noise of student conversations.
The duelists parted to the sides, although not far - they already stood almost at the right distance. They turned to each other. Snape made a minimal bow, saluting his wand against his face. On the other hand, Lockhart grimaced and waved his arms, causing only a grin from Snape. Well ... the Potions Master knows how to impress the audience - all the students are already burying Lockhart in their thoughts. Well, what's left of him.
Deciding that it was enough to clown around, Lockhart got into a pose like a real swordsman with a sword. Snape behaved about the same, only much more ... Laconic. That was the word that came to mind.
"Notice how the wands are held in this position," Lockhart explained to the quiet room. "On the count of three, spells are cast. There will be no deaths, of course."
"One, two, three…"
The wands shot up, but I noticed that Lockhart was not even trying to conjure, but Snape ...
"Expelliarmus!"
With an overly bright flash of a swift spell beam, Lockhart was thrown against the wall, and he slid down it, sprawling on the stage. The Slytherins, like many other guys, could not help laughing. Even Hermione shook her head dejectedly, covering her face with her hand.
"He is alive?" whispered one of the girls.
"I hope not!" Harry and Ron answered her at the same time.
Finally, Lockhart lifted his head off the floor. He looked disheveled and suspiciously happy.
"Great move!" He said, getting up briskly and dusting off his clothes. "Professor Snape used the Disarm spell, and, as you can see, I lost my weapon. Thank you, Miss Brown! Without a wand, I feel like without hands. Bravo, Professor Snape, bravo! Forgive me, it would be easy to unravel your plan and repel the blow. But it is very useful for students to see ..."
Snape's face grew darker than the cloud, and Lockhart hastened to add:
"This concludes the demonstration part. Let's go directly to the training session. I'm going to pair you up now. Professor Snape, would you please help me."
While the instructors were quick to point out who to stand up against, Hermione and I took positions against each other.
"Classic stance," I said, and we both copied Snape's stance. Well, she really looked classic.
"Slagulus Erukto," Hermione sent a greenish ray of a curse at me in a bored tone, from which I simply dodged.
"Boo-uh ..." I heard from behind, and when I turned around, I saw some Hufflepuff, without much enthusiasm spewing slugs from himself.
"Oops. I'm sorry," I apologized. Next to him was one of the older students and, nodding in understanding, pointed his wand at the guy, saying, "Finita." The guy was released.
"Don't be distracted, Max," Hermione reminded about herself, sending the Tarantalegra at me. I accepted this curse without any problems with Protego.
Then, at a fairly fast pace, but in turn, we threw simple spells and curses at each other, reflecting them on the sides of Protego Reflekto. This brought its own share of chaos, and if the older guys managed somehow, then their peers, and even third-year students, certainly fell under them. They were flying away, laughing, or starting to dance.