Felix Felicis to Ron was like a massive diamond to a young girl.
It made people drool. Made them want to rub it right into their flesh.
Even though Ron wasn't poor anymore thanks to working at Link's factory, his personality hadn't changed at all.
Frugality and stinginess were carved deep into his bones.
You could see it from the fact that he was still using old textbooks passed down from his brothers.
So after getting Harry's permission to handle the Felix Felicis, he completely fell into a crazed state.
He played with it while resting, played with it while eating.
It wasn't until lunch break ended and class was about to start that Ron finally held the Felix Felicis under his nose and took a deep sniff.
"One day, I'm getting myself a bottle like this too. I want to know what it feels like to be favored by the goddess of luck. It must be amazing."
"Oh right, didn't Ernie say Link always has Felix Felicis on him? Sometimes he even gives it out as prizes for little games. Say, do you think it's too late for me to transfer to Hufflepuff now?"
As he spoke, Ron reluctantly handed the Felix Felicis back to Harry.
But Harry didn't reply. He just walked behind Ron with a troubled look, clearly weighed down by something.
"Oh! Merlin's beard, don't tell me you're still thinking about Hermione?"
Ron rolled his eyes. "It's fine, alright? Trust me on this. I already asked Lavender and the others. It's just those days of the month for her, so she's a bit irritable. She'll be fine after a few days."
"Those days of the month?"
"You don't know? Every girl has them. Damn, I forgot you've never had any experience with girls. Tell you what, why not go ask Sirius Black?"
"My mum says he was the heartthrob of Hogwarts when he was young. Every girl dreamed of being with him. He must have loads of experience in this area!"
At that point, even someone as clueless as Harry understood what Ron meant.
Realization hit him, and his face flushed slightly.
At the same time, the two of them turned a corner and finally arrived outside the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.
Hermione and several other students were already standing in the corridor waiting.
She was holding a huge stack of heavy books in her arms, looking like she'd been put through the wringer.
Harry took a deep breath, about to step forward and greet her.
But in the next moment, the classroom door suddenly opened.
Snape stepped out into the corridor. Just like before, his greasy black hair hung down on both sides, framing his waxy yellow face.
The slightly noisy corridor instantly fell silent.
Snape's cold gaze swept over everyone, lingering on Harry for an unusually long time.
He said nothing. He simply stepped aside and, expressionless, gave them a look that meant "enter."
After being "tormented" by Snape for so many years, the students who survived had naturally developed an extremely sharp sense for reading the room.
Seeing this, everyone quickly filed into the classroom.
Unlike during Umbridge's or Lupin's time, the current Defense Against the Dark Arts professor had a strong "Snape" style.
There were pictures on the walls that hadn't been there before. Many of them showed people in pain, grotesque wounds, and twisted, unnatural body parts.
If it weren't for the lack of strange cauldrons and beakers, and the absence of odd smells in the air, anyone walking in would've thought this was another Potions classroom.
Even so, despite how uncomfortable the decorations were, after Harry and the others took their seats, none of them felt anything was off.
No one even had the interest to glance at the images.
The reason was simple. They were already used to it.
Ever since Umbridge was driven out last year, Snape had taken over as their substitute Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.
After enduring such a long period of "torture," they had adapted quite well.
When the last student jogged into the classroom, Snape shut the door and strode toward the podium.
As he moved, every window he passed closed on its own, and the curtains snapped tightly shut.
By the time he reached the front, the entire room had dimmed, leaving only the faint glow of candlelight.
"I have something to say. I expect your full attention," Snape said expressionlessly. "Up to now, you've had, I believe, five different teachers for this subject."
As soon as he said that, a smug smile crept onto Ron's lips.
Harry didn't need to guess. Ron was definitely imagining Snape as the next person to fall victim to the curse on the position.
"Needless to say, each of those teachers had their own methods and priorities," Snape continued, his gaze locking firmly onto Ron. Ron's smile instantly vanished, twisting into something awkward and stiff.
"You should all be grateful to me. If I hadn't taken over in the latter half of last year and set you on the right path, many of you wouldn't even qualify for the current NEWT-level classes!"
Snape stepped down from the podium and began pacing around the room, lowering his voice.
"The essence of dark magic lies in curses. Through various developments, curse magic has evolved into many remarkable forms."
"They can be strange, brutal, ever-changing. In other words, what you are dealing with is something unpredictable and indestructible."
Harry stared at Snape. He didn't think "remarkable" was an appropriate word for dark magic.
If anything, it suggested that deep down, Snape didn't dislike dark magic at all.
After all, he used to be a Death Eater.
Harry made the judgment harshly.
"Therefore, your defense," Snape raised his voice slightly, "must be just as flexible and varied as dark magic itself. And nonverbal spells are an excellent method of doing so."
"So today, we will be learning nonverbal spells! Now, pair up. One of you will attempt to cast a jinx on the other without speaking. The other will try to block it, also without speaking. Begin."
As soon as he finished, the students below all looked troubled. Even after forming pairs, no one seemed eager to move on.
This drew a hint of dissatisfaction from Snape.
"What? Does no one here know what a nonverbal spell is?"
It was clearly meant as an insulting rhetorical question, but Hermione immediately raised her hand.
That caught Snape off guard.
He looked around before finally nodding.
"Miss Granger?"
"A nonverbal spell is, as the name suggests, casting magic silently. Its advantage is that your opponent doesn't know what spell you intend to use," Hermione said. "That gives you a brief moment of advantage."
"Reasonably correct. But do you actually know how to cast one?"
"To successfully cast a nonverbal spell, you need strong concentration and willpower."
"You've copied that straight out of Standard Book of Spells, Grade Six," Snape said with disdain. "I doubt you even understand what it means."
As soon as he said that, Hermione's expression darkened.
Because she didn't.
The textbooks used at Hogwarts weren't complete. Many concepts were only briefly mentioned, far from enough to truly guide students into mastering magic.
That was why Hermione was so obsessed with the library.
The missing parts could only be filled in either by professors or through other books.
"Oh, poor Miss Know-It-All. You only know how to read in a rigid, mechanical way, not realizing that while it may get you good grades for a while, it won't make you a truly excellent witch."
"Because as a witch, what you need isn't just diligence. More importantly, you need talent."
Snape said darkly, "Take nonverbal spells, for example. They require strong willpower and concentration because they skip the incantation process."
"Without that step, the magic lacks guidance. That missing part must be replaced by your own will, to direct and mobilize it. Do you understand now?"
"What do you mean by 'direct' and 'mobilize'?" Hermione said, her face flushed red. "You haven't explained how we're supposed to do it at all!"
Snape shot her a sideways, contemptuous glance.
"I've explained it very clearly. Direct means direct, mobilize means mobilize. Both are verbs. As I said, talent is extremely important in magic, and nonverbal spells rely heavily on it."
"If you can't understand, that simply means you lack the talent. If it were Link Flamel, he would've understood what to do the moment I mentioned willpower and concentration. What? Still not convinced?"
Looking at Hermione's clenched fists, Snape let out a cold laugh.
"Then try it yourself. I know you've all undergone D.A. training, so I won't need to teach you the Shield Charm or basic attack spells. Everyone, begin practicing. Let's see whether you actually have any talent!"
With Snape's order, the students who had already formed pairs immediately got to work.
But just as Snape said, nonverbal spells truly required talent.
Most of the people present didn't understand the trick at all.
Or rather, they didn't even care whether they could learn it.
Having Snape as their professor was already bad enough.
With him around, their minds weren't on something as difficult as nonverbal spells.
So naturally, cheating started to appear.
Many students were quietly muttering incantations under their breath, just not loud enough to be heard clearly.
The only one still seriously trying was Hermione.
She stood facing Neville, both holding up their wands. She had Neville cast a silent jinx at her, while she kept her face flushed and her lips tightly sealed, afraid she might give in and whisper the spell.
Just watching her made Harry feel deeply uncomfortable.
After all, speaking the incantation had already become instinct for them when casting spells.
Especially after D.A. training, that instinct had only grown stronger.
And now Hermione was forcibly trying to override that instinct.
The most critical part was that as her emotions grew more tense, she still couldn't successfully cast a nonverbal spell.
Seeing her grow weaker from repeatedly straining her mental energy, Harry and Ron couldn't bear it anymore.
"Hermione, forget it. It's okay if you can't learn it. You don't have to push yourself like this."
"Stay out of it, Harry!"
Hermione gasped, snapping sharply, "I can learn it, I promise! You have no idea what this means to me!"
As she spoke, she glanced toward the podium, only to see Snape watching her with a mocking, almost amused expression.
That only made her more frantic.
"Neville, again!"
"Alright, Hermione… if you really want to."
Neville said helplessly, raising his wand again.
Perhaps to better focus his magic, he even closed his eyes this time.
Honestly, Harry thought Neville looked a bit over the top.
At this point, everyone should already know that nonverbal spells were beyond them.
Probably only a true prodigy like Link could master them to perfection as a student.
As for them…
Snape had likely brought this up just to torment them.
With that thought, Harry sighed, preparing to step in again after Neville inevitably failed.
But at that moment, a crimson light suddenly burst from the tip of Neville's wand without any warning.
The light condensed rapidly, fully charged in less than a second, and shot straight at Hermione.
Everyone in the room froze.
Hermione's mouth fell open in shock.
She couldn't believe it. After so many failed attempts, Neville had actually succeeded so easily.
At the critical moment, Ron reacted first.
He lunged forward, raising his wand.
"Protego!"
A pale blue shield flickered into existence. The not-so-thick crimson beam was instantly deflected, bouncing back and striking Neville hard, knocking the wand out of his hand.
Now Harry understood. Neville had cast the Disarming Charm.
Being hit directly didn't just disarm you, it also caused intense pain in the hand, preventing further attacks for a short time.
But Neville didn't care about the pain at all right now.
He didn't even pick up his fallen wand. He just stared at his own hand in disbelief.
"I… I actually did it?"
Neville stammered, sounding a bit like the timid boy he used to be.
But a surge of joy spread wildly across his face.
"How is that possible!"
Hermione screamed, then seemed to realize how it sounded and hurried to correct herself. "Oh no, Neville, I didn't mean it like that, I meant..."
Neville didn't hear a word she said.
He was completely overwhelmed by his success. He even waved the hand he'd just used and shouted toward Snape.
"Professor Snape, I did it! I actually did it!"
"Oh? That's quite good. Even if it took you many tries, it still proves you have some talent. At least…"
Snape slowly walked down from the podium, casting a mocking glance at Hermione, "better than certain people who only know how to read books. Neville Longbottom, ten points."
"Awesome!"
Neville was so excited he nearly jumped.
As a Gryffindor, getting points from Snape was practically impossible.
But before he could celebrate for long, Snape continued, "However, Mr. Ron Weasley, I believe I made it clear that you are not to speak your incantations aloud. Clearly, you did not take my words seriously. Ten points from Gryffindor!"
Neville's cheer died instantly.
Ron shouted, "No, that's not fair! Didn't you see that spell almost hit Hermione? I was just protecting my classmate! Instead of deducting points, you should be giving me points!"
Deep down, Harry agreed with Ron.
But he didn't think this was the time to say it out loud.
Hermione was already shaken by Neville's success.
Ron's words were like another blow on top of that.
How could someone as proud as Hermione take it?
Looking at Hermione with her head lowered, seemingly trembling, Harry felt a complicated mix of emotions.
But Snape didn't care.
"That was merely a Disarming Charm, not the Killing Curse. Even if Miss Granger had been hit, what of it? Would she die?"
"Mr. Weasley, I understand your intentions. But this is not a place for you to show off in front of girls. Talking back to a professor, five more points from Gryffindor!"
Ron was about to argue again, but Snape cut him off.
"Also, Ron Weasley, I find your progress far too slow. So, allow me to demonstrate."
As he spoke, Snape had already drawn his wand.
Ron's face changed drastically.
This was clearly personal retaliation. If Snape hit him, injury aside, public humiliation would be guaranteed.
"Stop, Professor Snape, let me take Ron's place!"
Harry suddenly pushed Ron aside and spoke loudly.
Ron's eyes reddened at the sight. Harry was without a doubt his best friend.
But how could he let his friend suffer in his place?
He shoved at Harry, trying to stop him, but Harry stood firm no matter how hard he pushed.
Not far away, Snape watched this with a barely noticeable trace of excitement. The corners of his lips lifted slightly.
"In that case, even better."
As soon as he finished speaking, he pointed his wand at Harry, not even waiting for him to separate from Ron.
Snape was actually attacking without warning.
No one had expected that.
Seeing the spell flashing toward him, Harry's pupils shrank to a pinpoint.
Buzz!
That familiar icy sensation surged through his mind again.
Carried by that cold feeling, Harry suddenly felt something strange.
At that moment, he felt like he could do anything.
This was his talent.