Recently, tensions among the younger Slytherins had reached a boiling point.
The reason was none other than their newest first-year student, Eve Stock. This enchanting little princess was neither a pureblood nor even a half-blood. Shockingly, she was Muggle-born!
While it was true that many Muggle-born wizards had achieved greatness, Slytherin House's longstanding culture revolved around bloodline supremacy. Once upon a time, they had adhered strictly to the idea of pureblood superiority. But as the number of pureblood students dwindled, and the sorting hat struggled to find enough recruits, they grudgingly began to accept half-bloods.
But now? Allowing Muggle-borns into their ranks? If that became the norm, the thousand-year legacy of Slytherin's bloodline philosophy would be nothing more than a farce!
Unsurprisingly, Eve was shunned by most of Slytherin. Well, almost everyone—there was one exception: Nolan Von Draugr.
The other young Slytherins felt a mix of admiration and fear toward Nolan. Ever since his fallout with Malcolm Baddock and his staunch defense of Eve, nobody dared to cross him. Interestingly, while Nolan was largely avoided within his own house, he had gained an unexpected acceptance among students from the other three houses, who found him to be a rather atypical Slytherin.
That afternoon, the Ravenclaws, who shared Defense Against the Dark Arts with the Slytherins, were buzzing around Nolan, eager for insights into their new, enigmatic professor.
"What's Felicia like?" one of the Ravenclaws asked curiously.
Nolan thought for a long moment before replying with a single word: "Strong."
"Uh…?" The Ravenclaws exchanged puzzled glances.
"Is she strict?" Ashley Thatcher raised her hand to ask.
"Never try to make Felicia your enemy," Nolan said quietly. "She's a terrifying individual. Among everyone I know, her knowledge of combat is unmatched. She dislikes the battlefield, but she has considerable experience on it. In my family, Felicia is the strongest. Nobody dares to provoke her."
The Ravenclaws found this answer even more perplexing.
By this time, however, many upper-year students had already attended Felicia's classes and shared glowing reviews.
Penelope Clearwater, a Ravenclaw fourth-year girl, declared, "She's the best Defense Against the Dark Arts professor I've ever had! Why is Professor Von Draugr only teaching for one year? I'd gladly pay extra Galleons just to keep learning from her!"
With such rave reviews, the younger Slytherins and Ravenclaws grew even more intrigued by this mysterious professor. When the time for their lesson arrived, they eagerly gathered in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.
The room held neither desks nor chairs—just a large, expansive carpet spread across the floor.
"Put away your wands!" were Felicia's first words as she strode into the room. "You won't need them in my class! I didn't come to Hogwarts to teach you parlor tricks. I'm here to teach you the art of battle—how to fight against dark wizards and monsters!"
Felicia Von Draugr's appearance couldn't have been more different from the image Nolan had of his elder sister.
Professor Felicia was dressed in riding breeches, calfskin shoes, and gloves—a remarkably lightweight ensemble. Her long black hair was tied up in a bun at the back of her head, but that did nothing to diminish her striking beauty.
She pointed at Nolan, who was standing in the last row. "Look at Nolan's clothes," she said. "Ditch your ridiculous robes and change into something practical. Muggle clothes are fine—just make sure they're lightweight. You have fifteen minutes to get changed. Starting now!"
The young witches and wizards scrambled back to their dormitories to grab their Muggle clothing. When they returned, they were all dressed in jeans, hoodies, and some even in entirely mismatched tracksuits. It was, without a doubt, far more practical than their wizarding robes.
Felicia's small leather shoes tapped rhythmically against the ground as she paced. Holding a teaching wand, she struck it sharply against her palm with resounding snaps.
"Wizards always think their greatest weapon is magic," she began, her voice cutting through the room like a blade. "So, when they fight, they stand face-to-face, like two idiots, hurling spells at each other. They forget that their brains are their weapons, and their bodies are their tools. But I'm not here to teach you that. I'm here to show you what it truly means to survive a battle."
Her sharp eyes scanned the group before landing on Nolan.
"Nolan, step forward!"
Nolan sighed softly and stepped out of the line.
Felicia turned lightly on her heel, her hands clapping together in an unexpectedly playful gesture.
Then came the sound—thud, thud, clank, clank.
A full suit of black enchanted armor marched into the room.
"This is a magic-infused suit of armor," Felicia explained. "Its combat abilities are equivalent to those of a medieval Muggle knight. These knights were highly skilled in battle, wielding swords, spears, crossbows, and shields. Even the most talented wizards would struggle to defeat them. Nolan, use what I've taught you to take it down."
"Yes," Nolan replied softly.
He patted his pocket to confirm his unicorn-hair wand was still there. Though he had owned it for less than twenty days, it was already starting to feel like an extension of his body.
"Begin!"
At Felicia's command, the enchanted armor charged forward in long, heavy strides. It carried no sword or shield, instead swinging its massive arms like hammers. As it struck out, the air whistled sharply under the sheer force of its blows.
The students braced themselves, certain the small and seemingly fragile Nolan was about to be pummeled.
But then came a loud clang!
Nolan had produced a small knife from seemingly nowhere and plunged it into the gap between the gauntlet and arm guard of the armor. With a swift motion, he cut through the magical seam holding the pieces together, disarming the armor—literally.
Felicia nodded in approval as she began to explain.
"Pay attention! No matter how sturdy the armor, it will always have weaknesses and gaps. Just as even the strongest werewolves can be brought down by a well-placed blade between their muscles, you can exploit your opponent's vulnerabilities."
The armor, undeterred, launched another punch with its remaining arm. The force behind the strike seemed capable of shattering the very air around it.
But Nolan, nimble as an eel, slipped to the ground and dodged the attack. In his right hand, he now held a short silver blade about the length of his forearm. He seized the opportunity and hurled the blade like a missile.
The sword spun through the air, piercing the eye slit of the enchanted armor's helmet. The impact caused the armor's head to lurch violently.
"Watch closely!" Felicia instructed the class. "A creature's greatest weakness is often its brain. When you lose your wand and face life-threatening danger, causing disorientation by attacking the brain can save your life. The simplest way to do this is to create a concussion by violently shaking the brain. Use all your strength!"