"Dark Wizards don't exactly wear a sign on their cloaks that says, 'I'm a Dark Wizard.' Perhaps they even appear rather friendly and gentle, seeming like a perfectly decent person," the voice drawled.
"Now, should you suddenly encounter one of these… types, what, precisely, should you do?"
"Will you wave your fists about? Will you let out a high-pitched scream? Or, will you do the only thing that separates you from a Muggle—will you draw your wand?"
"And that, students, is precisely what I am here to teach you."
"I am here to instruct you on the actions you must take after drawing your wand to prevent the immediate danger you are about to face."
Every mind in the classroom was, at this moment, completely ensnared by Snape. His words, his very tone, were bone-chilling, yet the subject matter he was discussing ignited an endless curiosity in the young witches and wizards.
Snape was not to be compared with the likes of Quirrell, who was clearly committed to playing the part of a bumbling failure. Snape possessed a deep and penetrating knowledge of the Dark Arts. While his most outstanding talent lay in Potions, no one could question the abilities of a man who, while still a student, had already invented spells such as the Sectumsempra Curse.
"I must caution you all: regardless of your year, and even after you have left the hallowed halls of Hogwarts, when you encounter a threat outside, the best course of action is not to grapple or duel with the offender. It is to create an opportunity to flee, or to immediately seek the aid of an Auror."
"While the Ministry of Magic is, for the most part, stuffed full of incompetents and dunderheads, the Auror corps is, at least, relatively reliable."
"Especially before you graduate and learn to Apparate, seeking their help is the single most effective action you can take."
"So, may I safely assume that every single one of you has mastered the very first bit of magic Professor Flitwick insisted on teaching you upon your arrival at Hogwarts?"
"Wands out!"
No sooner had Snape finished speaking than the students frantically pulled out their wands.
"Lumos (Wand-Lighting Charm). I shouldn't have to instruct you on that a second time, should I?"
The students nodded in a messy fashion, and a chaotic murmur of incantations arose in the classroom.
The tips of everyone's wands illuminated, though the brightness varied considerably. Still, they all knew how to perform the charm, as it was the most basic and fundamental of spells.
"Now then—Nox."
With a flick of Snape's wand, all the small lights in the room were instantly extinguished.
"As you are all only just beginning your magical education, attempting advanced incantations is an impossible feat for you. However, charms developed from the basic Wand-Lighting Charm can win you precious seconds to flee or call for help—perhaps only a few seconds, but they are utterly critical."
As Snape raised and lightly waved his right hand, a thick, black mist began to emerge in the classroom. The light filtering in through the windows was swallowed by this darkness. The room became pitch-black, causing hearts to flutter uneasily.
"I shall demonstrate for you now."
Snape's voice immediately silenced the nervous stir that had begun in the classroom. Tension once again took hold.
"This is a blinding charm, far more potent than the Lumos Maxima (Maximum Wand-Lighting Charm)."
"Lumos Fulgora (Light Burst Charm)."
Like the very first ray of light when the heavens were torn open, a spherical ball of intensely dazzling light erupted in the darkness. The black mist that had obscured their vision was shattered and repelled by the fierce glare. The blinding flash left a bright spot burned onto their retinas.
"That is the most basic application. The instant, searing light can temporarily blind a person. This effect may last for mere seconds, or it could be for several minutes. It may even cause permanent blindness—provided, of course, that your foe cannot immediately find a Healer."
"However, for any of you to unleash the full force of this charm, you may as well stop daydreaming about it now. Few, if any, will ever achieve it, even after graduation."
"Unless, of course, one of you possesses an immense, undiscovered talent for Charms—a talent not even I have detected—then you might manage something approaching my demonstration."
A magnificent white light erupted once again in the pitch-black classroom. This time, however, it was not a fleeting, explosive flash, but a concentrated beam that truly sliced through the darkness. The smell of burning wood soon began to waft through the air.
The black mist vanished, and the sunshine from outside once again flooded the classroom. Near the windows, a wooden dummy target was slowly giving off wisps of smoke. Its front was marked with scorched damage from intense heat, and black carbonization covered the area over its chest.
"Even the most basic Lumos charm holds the potential to be lethal, provided your mastery of the spell is strong enough, and your magical reserves are sufficient."
The classroom was utterly silent, but the excitement in the students' eyes was nearly overflowing. They didn't dare whisper or chatter, held in check only by Snape's immense, commanding presence. He was the professor no one at Hogwarts dared to cross, unless they wished to experience a living nightmare.
"Now, in the next phase, you shall master the techniques for calling an Auror, or immediately distancing yourselves from the threat."
"Put away your wands. Take out your parchment and be sure to take notes…"
Snape's class was perfectly disciplined. Compared to his Potions lessons, the students clearly found the Snape teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts far more engaging.
This was likely because Snape genuinely adored this subject. Furthermore, he was determined to teach a certain student in his class some practical, useful techniques that might one day save her life. In Snape's mind, Holly (Harrie) needed to master this knowledge. Even setting aside her identity as The Girl Who Lived, a pretty and—let's face it—easily distractible young girl like her would be an easy target for malicious individuals out in the world.
Snape certainly wasn't counting on Muggles to ensure her safety; all he could do was ensure Holly grew up capable of defending herself.
After all, he had promised Dumbledore not to tail her or interfere with her life. He had even briefly entertained the thought of making Lynn her bodyguard, but alas, Lynn's talent for Charms was utterly mediocre—insignificant, even, in Snape's discerning eyes.
To only master a very basic spell in a full day, and then take a full week to refine it to the point of being barely useful—Snape privately held such mediocrity in utter contempt.
As the lesson moved into the practical instruction and application phase, Snape reverted to his usual severely rigorous self. The students, whose spirits had been lifted only moments before, once again experienced the biting, razor-sharp critique of a headmaster's wicked stepmother. The venomous evaluations that spat forth from his mouth were both precise and devastating, cutting straight to the heart of the matter.
"Weasley! The instruction was to practice a charm, not to impersonate a club-waving Gorrilla!"
Ron, whose face was smug with self-satisfaction as he 'diligently' practiced his spell, froze instantly. He had, unusually, scampered to the front row today, sitting directly behind Holly.
The very moment his wand tip brushed Holly's hair, Snape's gaze locked onto him.
"Get out and stand in the corridor. Do not disrupt the learning of your betters."
"Gryffindor! Minus five points!"
Pale-faced, Ron shakily rose to his feet, wanting to protest but utterly paralyzed with fear.
"And was I not also addressing you when I spoke the name Weasley?!"
After berating Ron, Snape's gaze swept the room and pinpointed Draco Malfoy in the crowd.
"Out. Stand in the corridor, Malfoy."
"But… Professor, I—"
Draco, who felt he had done absolutely nothing wrong, was dumbfounded. His detention had only ended a few days ago! What dark curse had he fallen under?
"Slytherin! Minus five points!"
Draco, wearing a long-suffering expression, shuffled after Ron's footsteps and joined him in the corridor for punishment duty.