Defense Against the Dark Arts was a core course at Hogwarts.
In this class, students learned how to resist all kinds of dark magic—curses, hexes, jinxes, and other dark spells—how to fight dark creatures, and how to duel.
Back in the day, the terrifying terrorist Lord Voldemort had also attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry when he was young.
After graduating, he had even applied to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, but his real goal was to keep digging into Hogwarts' secrets and recruit followers from the students.
Albus Dumbledore saw through his scheme and turned him down.
Rumor had it that Voldemort held a grudge over this and secretly cursed the Defense Against the Dark Arts teaching position.
Ever since, every professor who took the job met with some kind of misfortune and couldn't last more than a year.
That was the origin of the curse on the Defense Against the Dark Arts post.
After listening to Charlie's story, Kyle glanced worriedly toward Snape.
The substitute teacher was Snape…
Snape wouldn't keel over before the term ended, would he?
Whether the substitute Defense Against the Dark Arts professor Snape would keel over was a question that would take some time to answer.
George and Fred, however, felt like they wouldn't live to see it.
Human joy and sorrow don't connect. Kyle actually thought Professor Snape was a pretty decent guy.
From the few cryptic words Tom had let slip last night, Kyle could tell that both he and Snape were men with stories.
Kyle was awfully curious, but there was no way he could ask either of them directly.
Dumbledore might know. Maybe he could find a chance to ask Dumbledore.
…
The weekend arrived.
The gray castle was wrapped in thin mist. The morning sun still hid behind distant mountains, sending out only faint rays of light.
George and Fred stood at the castle gates, rubbing their eyes and yawning nonstop.
Kyle gave each of them a kick. "What are you doing? Snap out of it!"
George, who had been kicked for no reason, pointed listlessly at the gloomy sky in the distance and grumbled, "You've got some nerve. Look at the time!"
Fred tried his hardest to open his eyes, but his eyelids felt like they weighed a thousand pounds; he couldn't pry them apart no matter what.
"This is the perfect moment to burn with youth! How can a little sleepiness defeat you?" Kyle planted his left hand on his hip, raised his right arm straight out, and flashed a dazzling set of teeth that gleamed in the light.
George and Fred, however, were completely unmoved by Kyle's passion.
The two leaned against each other, on the verge of falling asleep standing up.
Seeing that words of encouragement were useless, a glint of menace flashed in Kyle's eyes. His hands began forming seals.
"Water Release: Water Bullet!"
Two utterly terrified screams echoed outside the castle.
A ferocious water dragon clamped two shrieking little wizards in its jaws and shot toward the distant Black Lake.
Moments later, a campfire blazed on the lakeshore.
The brothers, stripped down to their undershirts, huddled by the fire, shivering uncontrollably, teeth chattering.
The icy shock of plunging into the freezing lake still lingered; the blankets draped over them did nothing against the psychological chill.
On a wooden rack nearby hung dripping wizard robes, sweaters, and shirts that needed drying.
Kyle lifted the kettle from the fire and poured each of them a cup of hot water.
"Feeling more awake now?"
If they weren't outmatched, the twins would have drawn their wands and dueled Kyle to the death right then.
Seeing the brothers glaring daggers at him, Kyle planted his hands on his hips and declared righteously, "I told you yesterday that we'd get up early to train today. You two still went night-wandering last night. How is that my fault?"
Fred and George switched to sulk mode. They didn't want to hear Kyle talk; they treated his words like a turtle chanting scriptures.
Since the two weren't planning to acknowledge him, Kyle decided he needed to take real action to make them admit it was worth it.
He turned toward the Black Lake.
When the Weasley twins saw Kyle standing steadily on the surface of the lake, their eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.
They instantly forgot that Kyle had just dumped them into the water. Grinning cheekily, they wrapped themselves in their blankets and stood at the lake's edge.
George asked fawningly, "Kyle! How are you doing that!"
Kyle shrugged. "This is the magic control technique I'm going to teach you."
"Are we starting training now?" Fred chuckled.
Kyle rolled his eyes. As expected, he had to show them something real before they'd be convinced.
Back on shore, Kyle explained in detail how to gather chakra—no, magic—under their feet to create suction and support.
George and Fred's brains: I think I got it.
The two swaggered forward, ready to step onto the water. Kyle yanked them back. "What are you doing?"
"Walking on water," they answered in unison.
Kyle: ???
Didn't get enough of your winter swim?
So everything I just said about starting with tree-climbing went in one ear and out the other?
Using an Earth Release jutsu, he created a steep slope of about seventy or eighty degrees, then demonstrated it himself.
Then Kyle looked at them. "You have to start from the basics. The first training task is to stand upright on this slope and move freely."
The twins nodded. Eyes burning with eagerness, they couldn't wait to begin their first exercise.
Kyle left them to it. Tree-climbing and water-walking took weeks to master; he had his own taijutsu training to focus on.
By the time Kyle finished a ten-kilometer run around the castle, the bright sun had chased away the mist between the mountains.
Kyle casually ruffled his golden hair, tidying the strands that had gotten messy from running. After a few adjustments, his breathing returned to normal.
Strolling back to the Black Lake, Kyle had expected the twins to still be training hard. Instead, he found the two slackers laughing and chatting with a beautiful witch who had curly brown hair.
George spotted Kyle approaching and introduced her. "Kyle, this is Penelope Clearwater, our senior."
Fred nudged Kyle's shoulder and winked mischievously. "She's here to see you."
Huh? Me?
Kyle glanced at Penelope. The sky-blue scarf around her neck marked her as a Ravenclaw.
Kyle was puzzled. The only Ravenclaws he knew were Cho Chang and Marietta Edgecombe. As for this one… had they met?
The witch extended her hand graciously. "Hi, Kyle. I'm Penelope Clearwater."
Kyle snapped out of it and shook her hand. Her skin felt like warm jade—soft and smooth.
Kyle's ears turned slightly pink. In his previous life, he'd been single from birth; even accidentally brushing a girl's fingers while handing something over made him jerk back like he'd been shocked. Shaking hands with a girl…
Oh, wait—he had shaken hands with Cho Chang before.
But age had to be taken into account. Eleven-year-old Cho was like the kid next door in Kyle's eyes, while Penelope was only two years older. Still, considering how Westerners tended to mature early…
In short, Penelope was past the three-year minimum for the death penalty protection period.
The heroine is not Penelope!
The heroine is not Penelope!
The heroine is not Penelope!
Important things must be said three times!
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