Harry, Ron, Black, and Draco walked across the corridors of Hogwarts.
The stony floor, walls, and columns were the same. But there was a stark difference between the times from before the first stage of the Intercontinental Tournament of Magic and now. And that difference stood out like a sore thumb, making it hard not to notice it.
Intermingled within the black robes of Hogwarts, here and there, were patches of white.
They were few and far between, appearing and disappearing as soon as they came into vision, as if they were deliberately trying to avoid the eyes landing on them.
That wouldn't be so far from the truth.
Because those white patches… were Muggles.
"Dad has sent me three letters in the last three weeks," Ron complained. "If we still had a Professor's seat left to fill, then he would have definitely applied already, I bet."
Unlike Ron's amazed expression, Draco carried a scowl on his face.
Harry, who had spent a great part of his life among the Muggles, was frowning as well.
Dumbledore's plan to make Hogwarts students learn how firearms worked and how to defend against them wasn't working as smoothly as he must have hoped it would.
For many students, it was one thing not to hate Muggles. It was another thing entirely to accept that Muggles, and their technology, could easily best the Magic, especially if they removed the parts which malfunctioned in its presence.
And that refusal of acceptance brought conflict.
Conflict that would only delay the inevitable.
"Harry! Black!"
The boys turned around and found Gryffindor's Quidditch team captain, Wood, running toward them.
"Come… with me…" the older boy said, taking deep breaths. "They are calling all Quidditch players to the field."
Harry and Black exchanged glances.
"For what?" Harry asked. "There is no Quidditch training scheduled for today. And we need to attend the double class of Muggle Studies and Charms in half an hour."
"Conjuring condensed magical bullets…" Black told Wood, sounding interested. "I bet Dumbledore will put something related to it in the second stage…"
Wood shook his head. "Later," he said, already turning around. "Just come to the Quidditch grounds. It won't take too long."
"... Can't you just tell us what it's about?!" Harry shouted, already following with Black.
"Grenades!" Wood shouted over his shoulder. "They want us to try out Snitch-Grenades…"
…
Snape and Horace Slughorn looked at the steaming cauldron, Darcie standing on the other side of the table.
Behind her stood three white-robed Scientists, all looking at the cauldron with blatant curiosity and amazement.
"... It should work..." Professor Slughorn muttered, licking his lips uncertainly.
Snape glanced at him. "You said it would work…"
"Well… I…" Slughorn patted the sweat on his forehead. He looked toward Darcie. "Will this work?"
Darcie remained silent.
Snape almost shook his head.
He looked toward the Scientists and nodded. "Let's try this one. Bring him in."
One of the Scientists ran outside the Potions classroom and came back with a group of soldiers.
"I need someone to try out this new potion," Snape drawled, narrowing his eyes at the hard-looking men. "Someone…"
"We know," the man at the front said. "I will try it myself…"
"Sergeant…"
"Stand down!" the soldier barked.
Then, saying nothing else, he walked past the Scientists and approached the wizards.
Darcie scooped out a vial of potion and gave it to the soldier, taking a step back and wielding her wands.
Snape and Slughorn did the same, the rest of the soldiers walling the Scientists behind them.
The Sergeant held the vial, stared at it, and, with a jerk, gulped it down.
Silence.
With a tink, the vial fell from his grip.
A growl escaped the man's mouth as if he were a beast… a beast experiencing unbearable pain.
Thick veins, almost black, propped up on the soldier's face.
His eyes almost popped out of his skull.
Everyone's breathing quickened.
Then, it went quiet.
Darcie's eyes narrowed.
Suddenly, in a snap, leaving behind a blur, the man charged toward her.
A BAM resounded as he hit a magical wall and was sent back flying, crashing into the wall with a loud THUD.
Despite the back-to-back blows, blows that were enough to take out an ordinary person instantly, the man stood up, showing the white of his eyes.
Slowly, those whites rolled down, revealing two pupils, surrounded by red veins.
Snape, finally, took out his wand as well.
This was where they had met failure last time.
This was where things had gone wrong, right after showing a momentary success.
Moments passed.
But, unlike the past experiments, the soldier didn't show any sign of madness.
Instead, he was looking at his hands, clenching and unclenching his fists, jumping on the balls of his feet.
And, slowly, a smile began appearing on Darcie, Snape, and the Scientists' faces.
…
The entire Class looked at Ron with dropped jaws as he hit the same spot on the target some twenty meters away… for the record tenth time in a row.
Ron himself had his mouth open, as if he couldn't believe what he had done.
The sound of boots rang out as a massive man, dressed in military uniform, walked up to Ron, with Professor Flitwick hopping to catch up to him.
"What's your name, son?" the instructor asked in a coarse voice.
Ron gulped. "... Ron Weasley."
"Alright, Weasley," the soldier said, turning toward the target. "I want you to take one more shot at the target. Go for the head this time. The spot between the eyes."
The entire Class dropped their wands.
Ron licked his lips and steadied himself with a breath, activating Mecha Eye.
The world became a field of arcs, numbers, and formulas in his vision — a vision that he had learned to understand and use a long time ago.
But…
But only now he felt like he could truly put it to use.
Only now he felt like he could use his Spell in a meaningful way.
With a slight disturbance, a marble-sized radiance gathered at the tip of Ron's wand.
Then, using the new Spell created by Hogwarts Professors, combining Depulso Charm and Oppungo Jinx, he let his vision align his aim and fired.
Ron's hand jerked.
In the next moment, the target's head… exploded.