Chapter 73: Seventy-Three

Hogwarts was home to more than a hundred staircases, and they had a mischievous habit of moving unpredictably. Whenever this happened, students often found themselves transported to entirely wrong floors, only to be met with the mocking laughter of the portraits hanging nearby.

Today, Lys was the unfortunate victim.

During the short break between two classes, she had gone to the restroom. But on her way back, the stairs carried her from the sixth floor all the way down to the second floor—a far cry from her intended destination.

By the time Lys finally arrived at her Defense Against the Dark Arts class, five minutes late, she was out of breath.

Her tardiness cost Slytherin five points. "Let's continue," the professor announced. "Now that we've covered the characteristics of this creature, it's time to turn theory into practice. Put away your books and follow me."

Lys, who had just taken out her textbook, sighed and put it back. She looped Gubbon around her neck and followed the professor, who led the class back to the second floor.

Lys couldn't help but feel particularly unlucky today.

"This is an abandoned classroom," the professor explained. "With Headmaster Dumbledore's approval, it's now our practical training base." He gestured toward a massive water tank that dominated the room.

The enormous tank occupied half the classroom, and the ceiling reflected shimmering patterns of light from the ripples in the water.

The dark water inside contrasted sharply with the overly bright ceiling, making it difficult to keep one's eyes open. Something inside the tank thrashed about, revealing greenish skin, sharp fangs, webbed feet, and claws far stronger than one would expect for its size.

"A Grindylow," the professor explained, "a creature that is incredibly fragile on land but highly dangerous underwater. It's a water-dwelling dark creature…"

Lys frowned in confusion. Grindylows didn't possess magical abilities and were sometimes kept as pets or used as hunting tools by merpeople. How had they been classified as dark creatures? Was it because they attacked any intruder in their territory, including humans?

Her mind began to wander. If that was the reason, then what did that make wizards, who had countless creatures listed on their menus? If such wizards weren't considered wrong, then could the Dark Lord's actions also be seen as a form of hunting? Why, then, was he resisted?

The students' exclamations brought Lys back to reality. Standing on the outer edge of the group, she looked up to see a Grindylow being pulled onto land, tangled in a clump of waterweed, so the students could observe it up close.

After the professor instructed the students to observe the creature, he asked them to propose practical strategies for escaping safely if they ever encountered one. He then invited them to test their ideas one by one.

"Next, Stalys Black."

To ensure no student could avoid participation out of fear, the professor called on them in alphabetical order by surname.

When Lys stepped forward, the Grindylow in front of her already had two wounds but remained ferocious, baring its sharp teeth at her.

Lys raised her wand, recalling the professor's instructions. With a flick of her wrist, she cast a Levitation Charm, spinning the Grindylow around until it became dizzy and disoriented. When it finally fell back into the tank with a splash, Lys cast a Healing Charm to stop the bleeding from its leg wound. Without a backward glance, she returned to the edge of the group.

"Hmm, creative attack method. Slytherin earns three points. And for maintaining the teaching aid, two more points," the professor announced.

Lys's lips twitched downward. Teaching aid.

The professor then used Lys's approach to explain that effective attacks didn't always require spells that caused direct harm. Techniques that conserved magical energy while effectively reducing an opponent's combat ability were equally valuable.

After all, there had been cases where dark wizards, even after losing an arm, managed to cast spells and turn the tide of battle, escaping from Aurors. On the other hand, a wizard so dizzy they could barely stand wouldn't be able to clearly enunciate spells or aim accurately.

Still, Lys found the lesson strange. Grindylows were aquatic creatures and extremely vulnerable on land, as the professor himself had mentioned. What was the point of practicing against them in such a disadvantageous environment?

Looking at the young wizards cheering over their successful attacks, Lys couldn't help but wonder what they would do if they ever encountered Grindylows in their natural habitat—underwater. The creatures' combat abilities there would be worlds apart from what they faced in the classroom.

Would they end up like that Gryffindor who had used the Incendio spell? The Grindylow might not even be hurt, but the wizard's wand hand would likely be boiled alive.

Apparently, a nearby Slytherin shared her thoughts, letting out a derisive snort.

Noticing some Gryffindors glaring in their direction, Lys quickly moved to a different corner. She didn't want any trouble.

But you couldn't expect a group of Gryffindors to resist the urge to show off after seeing others demonstrate their skills.

Soon, most of the students started using flashy, large-scale, or high-power spells. Even some Slytherins joined in, despite the professor repeatedly reminding them to consider the creature's environment and their own magical limitations.

By the end of the class, the room was a mess. The professor, looking exhausted, repaired the tank's broken corner, cleaned up the spilled water from the Black Lake that had flooded half the classroom, and dismissed the students.

After class, Lys found herself needing more Stabilizing Potion, as she had gone through hers too quickly. She stopped Severus Snape in the hallway, intending to ask him for help.

But she paused when she saw Lily Evans glaring at her, while Snape stood nearby, trying to explain something. He had only managed to say, "Lily…"

For some reason, every time Lys saw the two of them together, she thought of the flower that had fallen from Snape's palm.

Sensing the tension, she wisely pretended she was just passing through, slipping between them without a word.