Lesson 2 - N.E.W.T. Level

Wilson entered his classroom. It was empty, for now, but soon... his students will arrive, thinking they can do what they want, as it is with the majority of them. He had finally begun with teaching some relevant subjects, meaning he had finished with those boring and stressing introductory classes. He waved his hand, and text appeared on the board, with the usual not to copy it down. As soon as they were all present, he would start with the class.

Amelia arrived early, as usual, to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, finding it deserted save for the professor. She nodded politely to him, though she made no attempt to strike up conversation. Last lesson had already been an exercise in patience for her, considering the attention he had put on her which had quickly been followed by an immediate desire to vacate the premises.

Hopefully this lesson will be more about the spells, and less about me... Amelia thought to herself, taking a seat along the side of the room where she would hopefully avoid any unwanted attention. She wanted to be noticed in class by the professors because of her talent with a wand, but if they could keep all their noticing to themselves, she would much prefer it.

Brienne came into the classroom, she looked mad. She was in a horrible mood, and nothing could change that. Nothing at all, or nothing she could think of. She took her seat in the back, away from the professor, and perhaps were she could converse with fellow students that might not like the class so much either. She loved fighting Dark Arts, but this class was made horrid by the jackass that taught it.

She opened her textbook and started reading some of the fun stuff in it, like about Patronuses and Dementors.

Oh yay! Another class with Professor Bloody Wilson. Angelique wondered what insensitive remarks he'd throw around today. Would he be racist again? Would he perhaps mix it up a bit and be speciest as well? Sorry Ravenquist, looks like you'll have to keep your head down, and ears, and tail, if that's the case.

One thing's for sure, he'll never go the road that Angelique preferred and pick on redheads, because he probably had wet dreams about them. But then, Wilson was never known for his consistency, so he could always pick on Jack instead.

Whatever happened, there was one thing you could always count on in defense against the dumb arts. Lots of points would be lost for what Wilson called them being ignorant, and what Angelique called him not realising his job was to rectify that.

James Wake entered the room, on time as usual. He set his books upon his desk, as usual. He took at his heavily annotated textbook, as usual. Defense Against the Dark Arts was becoming a chore for the boy, and he was wont to go his own way. He was studious, yes. He was careful, yes. He was also really, really interested in the way Wilson was going to attempt to deal with this many kids hating him in a manner of one class. The man was insatiable. He used his class to pick on a mock the students for not having the proper knowledge needed to pass his class. James often sat aside, already intimately familiar with the topics he would be covering. For example; Sectumsempra. A lower-level Dark Spell which causes numerous, deep incisions on the victim's body. A good way to imobolize the enemy if they were expecting Petrificus Totalus.

Without understanding why she chose to come to this depressingly boring class with that arrogant teacher, instead of continuing to dream about cupcakes flying around, Hidama entered the room and sat down with a soft groan. There better something exciting happen here today, or so help me GOD I wont be around for more lessons. James William Wilson would probably feel proud if he would get to hear just how successful he was to make his students life a living Hell. Hidama was sure she'd rather never eat sweets again than having to take more classes with that man as her teacher. There was no one really trying to force him to like the students, and she most certainly didn't expect that at all. But he didn't have to literally show them his dislike by trying his best to either humiliate them or insult them. It would perhaps be alright if he wasn't a teacher and Hidama would actually afford doing something to him, but... she was rather hesitant at the moment to try and do something nasty. If her father would hear something like that... A slight chill ran down Hidama's spine.

Jack was exhausted with life, so she was practically sleep walking as she stumbled down the corridor towards defense against the dark arts. She was surprised to realize she would probably be on time, but she did not find it very interesting. She was not sure why she was exhausted, but it had something to do with the tediousness of everything... She was just done with it all.

She slumped into class and took the first empty seat in the back, letting her bag slide with a might thump to the ground. She collapsed into her chair and but her arms on her desk and let her head crash into her arms, her hair sticking out every which way. She tilted her heads and let out a loud sigh, grumbling slightly before sitting up. She really was not in the mood to get yelled at today... And yet, there was a ninety percent chance she would.

The morning had brought promise but then Elijah had looked at his timetable. He’d been put into a mood only chocolate could retrieve him from and he had dipped into the stash of chocolate he’d brought back from Paris that summer. He loved everything about his local chocolaterie, the smell, the decor and the people. The aging woman that ran the shop loved to indulge Fauve and she’d fallen in love with Thierry the same way everyone else had. But Fauve was not forgotten. No she was still the baby, Thierry being older, and therefore still the favourite. Thierry seemed content to be in the background as he loved to spoil his sister as much as everyone else. Elijah had not been worried upon bringing the two together but he had wondered what they would think of each other. But they had taken to each other like fish to water, putting his mind at ease.

It was odd to be away from the two of them. Fauve, he hoped, would not feel so abandoned this year. She had her companion, her brother, so Elijah hoped she would not feel alone. He had no wanted to take either of them home-home this year. He’d left them in Paris, in the care of the owner of the chocolaterie and Camille. Camille had wanted Elijah to trust her with Fauve. He’d been hesitant before but Fauve was safe with her brother so Elijah had relented and let Camille look after them. The young woman had pulled out of art and had managed to hold down a job at the chocolaterie without fault and that had further proven to Elijah that he could trust her. So far, she’d been wonderful if Thierry’s letters were anything to go by. But shoddy writing and poor French grammar was a little hard to decode – Elijah had the gist of it though.

After the chocolate and an impromptu cigarette, Elijah made his way up to the Defence against the Dark Arts classroom, his bag slung over one shoulder. He paused at one of the corners and glanced down it. He ran one of his hands through his hair and spotted a smear of chocolate on his finger. He licked it off and put his hand into the pocket of his robes before continuing on down the corridor. Elijah stopped in front of the door and exhaled before opening it up and stepping inside. He shut the door behind him and paused. A yawn escape Elijah’s mouth and he took one of the seats in the middle of the room. He put his bag on the back of the chair and sat down, retrieving his book from his bag as he did so. He put it on the table rested his cheek in his hand, his elbow leaning on the table. What would become of today’s lesson, he wondered?

''It seems there is enough of you'', he commented as he stood up. He scanned through the class. ''Good day to you all and welcome to our first, actual, DADA lesson. I do hope we shall have less problems than last time. Also, those of you who haven't written their tasks got a 'T' in homework, just so you should know'', he added.

''Now, today's lesson will be about a potentially very dangerous dark spell. The spell itself won't do much harm, but if you use it right, it can be fatal. Now, the spell is called Sectumsempra and it was invented Severus Snape, a former professor in this school and former Headmaster, one of the greatest wizards of all time. Now, to start... can anyone tell me how the spell is used, how it manifests and what effects can it cause, or create, whichever suits you. After we have covered the theoretical part, we shall get to demonstration and practicing'', he said.

Sectumsempra... Warning bells went off in Elijah’s brain as he put two pieces of information together. Sectumsempra was the curse Jen had been tortured with during the Battle for Grimmauld Place. Elijah remembered her when she and Rob came to see him not long after. Her brother hadn’t figured out the exact contents the potion to clear up the scars would need. She’d looked rough and the scars showed signs of aggravation where the cuts had been shoddily healed by her as she continued on. Now they were learning how to use the spell that nearly killed his surrogate mother? Terrific.

Elijah raised his hand, for once confident in one of his answers. “Sectumsempra is not a spell that the victims are meant to live through. It’s death. The spell creates deep lacerations everywhere on the body and as it progresses the wounds become deeper and multiply quicker. The counter-curse is not taught as frequently as the curse itself but those who cast it in theory should know how to end their opponents suffering. It becomes apparent straight away that the spell has been cast. It is as if someone is taking a knife to you and cutting you up for a meal later in the evening. It won’t stop...there is nothing you can do to combat it. This spell...it makes the Killing Curse look harmless – like child’s play -- because your victim has to feel themselves die. Avada Kedavra is a fade to black, there is no pain. With this...they bleed to death – their insides are destroyed as the lacerations deepen...Perhaps that is what makes the spell unique. Crucio is the favoured torture curse yet this one is so much more...torturous for lack of a better word. You can make your victim beg for death with the Cruciatus and you can do the same with this one but they will feel themselves dying and you can heal them...cut it off before they begin to slip into death and make them feel it over and over and over again...”

Elijah took in some air. He could feel himself getting worked up but he had no reason to be. It wasn’t as if he’d been the one at the mercy of the wizard casting the spell. Exhaling, Elijah put his hand on his neck and prodded the skin there. “....It’s an aggressive form of the cutting curse. It doesn’t just create lacerations but you could curse limbs off with it; George Weasley being an example of this.” He swallowed and dropped his eyes to the desk. “...That’s all I know...”