Classes

The prefects led the first-year Slytherins through the twisting corridors, ensuring they didn't get lost on the way to Charms class. Despite his familiarity with the castle layout from reading over maps and old records, he followed along, blending in with the others. When they arrived at the Charms classroom, Professor Flitwick's enthusiasm instantly filled the room. His joy was infectious, and Damian found himself smiling, despite the situation.

He started the lesson with two basic spells: 'Lumos' to light the tip of their wands and 'Nox' to extinguish it. Damian had mastered these charms long before, but he didn't want to draw too much attention to himself. So, he pretended to struggle at first, waiting for one of the other students to succeed before "finally" managing it himself. However, Professor Flitwick's sharp eyes caught his performance.

After class, Flitwick asked him to stay behind. "Damian ," he said kindly, though his gaze was piercing, "why did you pretend not to know the spells?"

Damian hesitated for a moment but then decided it was pointless to lie. "I've already mastered all the first-year charms over the summer," he admitted. "But I didn't want to stand out too much. I'm already in the spotlight enough as it is."

Flitwick raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "All of them?" he asked.

"Yes," Damian replied, "even some advanced ones, like 'Accio', 'Protego', and 'Silencio'."

Flitwick asked him to demonstrate, so he summoned a nearby book with 'Accio'. Then, he cast 'Protego' as he threw the book at himself, and it bounced harmlessly off the invisible shield, falling to the floor. Flitwick's surprise was evident.

"You've been practicing a lot, I see," he said, nodding thoughtfully. "But why the secrecy?"

"I'm not looking for more attention than necessary," Damian replied. "I've already got enough of it being... well, a Black. But I was wondering, Professor—would you consider teaching me to duel? You're a duelling champion, and I could learn so much from you. Just for a month, and if I don't meet your expectations, you can drop me."

Professor Flitwick blinked, clearly taken aback by Damian's bold request. After a moment, a small smile formed on his face. "You are certainly ambitious, Damian," he said. "I'll give it some thought. For now, though, you'd better get to your next class."

He handed Damian a note excusing his lateness and dismissed him with a knowing look. Damian hurried to his next lesson, History of Magic. As expected, Professor Binns was just as dull as the books had described him—droning on about goblin wars in a voice that could put even the most energetic student to sleep.

"What did Flitwick want?" Draco asked softly.

"He just wanted to clarify a bit of things, and I wanted to ask if he could teach me duelling," Damian said with a shrug.

"That's great," Blaise commented. "Flitwick was duelling champion twice in a row. You could learn a lot from him."

While Binns lulled half the class into a daze, Damian pulled out his second-year Charms book and started reading. He couldn't afford to waste time on topics he'd already learned. Still, he knew he'd need the notes from this class to pass the exams, so after the lesson, he approached Su Li, a Ravenclaw who seemed diligent.

"For twenty galleons, would you let me copy your History notes for the entire year?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

She blinked in surprise but quickly agreed. "Deal," she said, handing him her meticulously organised notes.

With that taken care of, Damian had one less thing to worry about. Now he could focus on more important matters—like preparing for his training with Flitwick and studying the mind arts. Later, after classes finished, he sent a reply of confirmation to Narcissa.

In Transfiguration class the next afternoon, he walked in to find a tabby cat sitting on Professor McGonagall's desk, its sharp eyes scanning the students. Knowing it was her, he approached cautiously, reaching out with the intent to pat it. The cat hissed and swatted at his hand, and he pulled back quickly. Even though he knew it was McGonagall, he didn't want to risk annoying her further.

When the bell rang, signalling the start of class, all the students were seated. That's when it happened—the cat leaped from the desk, transforming in mid-air into Professor McGonagall. Though Damian knew this was coming, seeing it in person was still astonishing. Gasps filled the room, while he managed to keep his face neutral.

Professor McGonagall wasted no time in demonstrating her expertise. With a wave of her wand, the desk transformed into a large cow, and then just as swiftly, back into a desk. It captivated the class. However, she soon launched into an explanation of the principles and laws of Transfiguration, which was considerably less enthralling but necessary.

For their first practical lesson, they were tasked with turning a matchstick into a needle. Damian acted as though he struggled a bit, slowly transforming his matchstick to silver, then gradually into a sharp needle over the course of half an hour. It wasn't perfect, but it earned him five points for Slytherin. McGonagall's sharp gaze never left him, though. She knew what he was capable of, and he suspected she was watching his every move.

In Herbology, Professor Sprout's gentle demeanour made the lesson on medicinal plants tolerable, though Damian's interest in herbology wasn't as deep as in other subjects. She was kind, though, and that made the class pleasant. It felt like a reprieve from the more intense subjects.

Defense Against the Dark Arts, however, was a disaster. Professor Quirrell's stuttering made it nearly impossible to follow his lesson, and the rotting smell that clung to him, mixed with the overwhelming stench of garlic, made the class unbearable. No one seemed to understand anything he was saying, and by the time the bell rang, they all practically ran out of the room just to get away from the suffocating atmosphere. DADA was clearly going to be a waste of time this year.