Professor Gael and Harry’s demonstration duel was still ongoing.
Or rather, it was Gael teaching Harry a lesson single-handedly.
Harry was flung into the air again and again, like a broken kite tumbling down, helpless and exhausted.
Even Kathoom could barely stand to watch.
“I doubt Gael’s intention was ever to teach,” Kathoom muttered to Bruce. “He probably took this job just to have an excuse to hex children.”
Finally, under the sympathetic gaze of his classmates, the demonstration came to an end.
Harry’s robes were askew, his hair wildly disheveled. He had certainly taken quite a beating.
But to everyone’s surprise, he was unharmed—Gael hadn’t left so much as a bruise. It seemed he only intended to give Harry a memorable lesson, not to hurt him.
Looking refreshed after the duel, Professor Gael addressed the class.
“Actually, I was holding back just now.”
He continued, “If you ever face a dark wizard, they’ll be a hundred times more ruthless than I was!”
Then, in a show of mock compassion, Gael patted Harry’s shoulder.
“Don’t worry, you did well today.”
He said, “But as Dumbledore’s favorite student, you need to work harder!”
Harry gave a feeble nod, clearly puzzled as to when he had become the headmaster’s favorite.
Once Harry had left the stage, Gael resumed his lecturing stance.
“The spell I just demonstrated is one created by that brilliant wizard I mentioned. I call it the Crimson Comet.
“The wizard who invented it is Gellert Grindelwald. Remember that name well.”
The students nodded earnestly, committing it to memory.
Yet they couldn’t help but wonder why a spell created by Grindelwald would bear the name Professor Gael gave it.
“Now, let’s continue with the lesson.”
Professor Gael—or should they say, Grindelwald’s admirer—scanned the class.
“Your goal is to master this spell within a month!”
—
Over the following week, an unusual scene unfolded at Hogwarts.
Every student seemed to have their wand in hand at all times, practicing the spell constantly.
In the Great Hall, the corridors, even hidden corners, students could be seen attempting to cast the Crimson Comet.
Some were even covertly practicing it under their desks during other classes.
Once, in Professor McGonagall’s Transfiguration class, a student accidentally managed to cast it successfully.
A beam of crimson energy shot forward, sending the desk in front of him flying, parchment fluttering everywhere until it landed right on Professor McGonagall’s face.
The student was awarded a week of detention.
Soon enough, the weekend arrived.
Bruce walked through the corridors toward the training room where Dumbledore had told him to meet.
As he passed a corner, he overheard a heated argument between Snape and Professor Gael.
He caught fragments of their conversation—
“You must apologize to him!”
Snape demanded. “Harry is just a child. Do you understand how humiliating him like that in front of everyone could damage him?”
“It was merely a demonstration; accidents happen.”
Gael replied coldly, “Besides, Snape, let me remind you—no one talks to me this way!”
“Well, today someone is.”
Snape stood firm. “I must demand justice for Harry. If you refuse to apologize, we’ll take this to Dumbledore.”
At the mention of Dumbledore, Gael’s brow furrowed.
After a long pause, he finally conceded with reluctance.
“This time only, Snape, this time only,” Gael said icily. “And don’t think I’m yielding because of your influence.”
Bruce wasn’t surprised by this scene.
Snape’s favoritism for Harry was well-known across the school.
Ignoring their dispute, he hurried to the training room, where Dumbledore was already waiting.
“Sorry for being late, Headmaster.”
“It’s no problem. I only just arrived myself.”
Dumbledore dismissed the delay and moved right into the lesson.
“The spell I’m about to teach you is a very advanced one, Bruce.”
Dumbledore drew his wand. “It’s called the Patronus Charm. This is magic far beyond the level of ordinary wizards, so I don’t know if you’ll be able to master it.”
Bruce nodded seriously, listening intently.
“The Patronus is a positive force, Bruce. Now, take out your wand.”
Bruce drew the Elder Wand, preparing to cast.
“The incantation is Expecto Patronum.”
Dumbledore instructed, “As you recite it, focus all your thoughts on a memory that brings you deep happiness. Only then will the spell work.”
A memory of true joy?
Bruce froze, his mind suddenly blank.
Dumbledore, unaware of his inner struggle, continued, “Now, follow my lead—Expecto Patronum!”
Bruce quickly echoed him, “Expecto Patronum!”
A brilliant phoenix call echoed from Dumbledore’s wand, and a magnificent silver phoenix soared into the air.
Bruce, however, saw only a faint wisp of silvery smoke emerge from the tip of the Elder Wand, disappearing almost immediately.
The spell had failed.
Dumbledore hadn’t expected this outcome; Bruce was known for his extraordinary magical talent, able to master most spells with ease.
Yet here, something had gone wrong.
“Is everything alright, Bruce?” Dumbledore asked gently. “Did I not explain it clearly?”
“No, it’s not that.”
Bruce shook his head, a rare look of frustration on his face.
“It’s… I can’t think of a memory that makes me truly happy.”
Dumbledore’s heart clenched.
He realized he’d overlooked something crucial.
Bruce, an orphan who had grown up in solitude, might not have any joyful memories at all.
The truth was, as Bruce tried to cast the spell, he could only think of his time with his parents—those were his most treasured memories.
But the knowledge that his parents were gone forever turned what had been happy moments into something painful.
“I’m sorry, Bruce.”
Dumbledore said softly. “Perhaps it’s not yet time for you to learn the Patronus Charm. Let’s try something else, shall we?”
Seeing Bruce’s downcast expression, Dumbledore felt a pang of guilt.
In that moment, he wanted to apologize for not realizing sooner.
“What else should we learn?”
Bruce asked, raising his head. He recovered from his sadness in an instant, surprising Dumbledore.
Dumbledore quickly regained his composure, focusing back on the lesson.
What could he teach?
Suddenly, he remembered the numerous reports from other teachers about the students constantly practicing the Crimson Comet spell.
He knew exactly what to teach next.
“Bruce, how do you feel about the Crimson Comet spell Professor Gael taught you?”
“It’s a powerful spell,” Bruce admitted.
“Well, then I’ll teach you a spell that can counter it perfectly.”
Dumbledore smiled, “Once you master it, you’ll be able to give Professor Gael quite the surprise.”
—
T/N: snape…. just how many times have you given Harry the potion
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