Harry Potter: The Golden Viper

0471 Magic

The room fell into an eerie, expectant silence, thick with anticipation. Bryan standing tall and imposing at the forefront of the classroom, could see the flushed faces of excitement all around him.

Every young wizard in the room, from the smallest first-year to the most seasoned seventh-year, had harbored dreams of becoming as powerful as Headmaster Dumbledore or Professor Watson. For these young wizards, finding a clear path to such awe-inspiring power through the complicated and often tedious knowledge imparted in other Hogwarts courses seemed a Herculean task.

But the knowledge Professor Watson had just shared and the breathtaking display of magic he had demonstrated ignited a spark within each of them. It kindled a tangible sense of possibility, a flickering flame of hope that they too might one day wield such extraordinary abilities.

"Professor Watson," Cedric raised his hand. In the candlelight, his eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. "If we can keep pace with your lessons... if we can truly absorb and master what you're teaching us... does that mean..." He paused, swallowing hard, as if hardly daring to voice the thought aloud. "Could we... could we actually have a chance of becoming Hogwarts champions? Of representing our school and emerging victorious in the Triwizard Tournament?"

The mention of the legendary Triwizard Tournament sent a ripple of excitement through the classroom. Many students, including Harry and the notoriously proud Draco visibly perked up at Cedric's words, their eyes brimming with hope.

'If Ron knew what he was missing, he'd be kicking himself!'

Harry and Hermione, seated side by side, exchanged meaningful glances. Both saw the same thought reflected in each other's eyes. Harry, in particular, had often regretted Ron's decision to drop this class, and at this moment, that feeling of regret reached its peak.

"I'm afraid not, Mr. Diggory," Professor Watson gave a disappointing answer to the expectant gazes. "The Triwizard Tournament is far more than a simple test of magical combat prowess."

Bryan's pale purple eyes, always slightly unnerving in their ethereal hue, swept across the room, meeting each student's gaze in turn. "This tournament is designed to test young wizards on their ability to apply magic creatively and effectively in crisis situations. It's a comprehensive evaluation of magical skill, adaptability, and wisdom - qualities that go far beyond just spell-casting ability."

His lips curved into a small, knowing smile as he continued, "If brute magical force were all it took to overcome the Tournament's challenges, it would be reduced to nothing more than a glorified dueling contest. And while the skills you learn here will undoubtedly be valuable, they are but one piece of a much larger puzzle."

The words 'comprehensive evaluation' seemed to hang in the air, echoing in the minds of the students.

Cedric nodded thoughtfully; his brow furrowed in concentration as he absorbed Bryan's words. Unbeknownst to him, Cho Chang was gazing at his back from her seat diagonally behind him. Her eyes rippled with a complex cocktail of emotion.

Bryan's voice cut through the contemplative silence that had fallen over the classroom. "I want each of you to remember what I've just told you," he said, his tone taking on a more businesslike tone. "When you return to your dormitories this evening, I want you all to write an essay. It should be no less than twelve inches in length, discussing your understanding of dueling - its applications, its limitations, and its place within the broader spectrum of magical combat. You'll submit these to me next Wednesday evening."

A collective groan might have been expected at the announcement of homework, especially given that this was the first time Professor Watson had assigned any since the physical education class began. However, no such sound was heard. These young wizards, mischievous and playful as they could be, were far from fools. They recognized the rarity and value of the opportunity before them, and not a single complaint was voiced.

"Now," Bryan continued, his voice taking on a more serious tone, "we are about to enter the formal offensive spell instruction phase of our course." Before the students could erupt into cheers of excitement, Bryan raised a hand, his expression suddenly grave. "I must stress upon each and every one of you the utmost importance of what I'm about to say. From this day forward, those participating in this class are strictly forbidden from using wands in any conflicts within the school grounds, even if both parties involved are students of this class. Should such an incident occur, I assure you, the punishment will be most severe."

The solemnity in Professor Watson's voice and the stern set of his features sent a chill through the room. The young wizards felt the weight of his words settle upon them like a physical presence. It was clear to all that the "severe punishment" he spoke of went far beyond just simple detentions or house point deductions. The unspoken threat of expulsion - not just from this coveted class, but potentially from Hogwarts itself - hung heavy in the air.

Theodore Nott, couldn't resist voicing his discontent. "But Professor Watson," he grumbled, his voice tinged with frustration, "how are we supposed to gain practical experience? We can't become true dueling masters without actual combat, can we?"

Bryan's gaze was fixed on Theodore, and for a moment, the Slytherin seemed to shrink under the intensity of those ghostly eyes.

"An astute observation, Mr. Nott," Bryan said, a note of appreciation in his voice. "Rest assured, I will provide you with ample opportunities for practical experience. However," he paused, his gaze sweeping across the room once more, "before we reach that point, it is crucial that you build a solid foundation. Without that, all the practical experience in the world will be for naught."

From across the room, Draco caught Harry's eye. His lips twitched in a mock expression of disappointment, but the glimmer in his gray eyes showed his genuine excitement for what was to come.

Hermione, her cheeks flushed with a mixture of anticipation and intellectual fervor, raised her hand. Her voice, when she spoke, was quick and breathless with eagerness. "Where do we start, Professor Watson?" she asked, her brown eyes lighting with curiosity. "I mean, we don't have any textbooks for this course, do we?"

"This course, Miss Granger, does not require textbooks in the traditional sense," Bryan explained, standing before the young wizards. "I will be using a spell-teaching method none of you have encountered before."

Bryan's pale purple eyes seemed to glow with an inner light as they reflected the puzzled faces of his students. "Now," he said, his voice deepening to a rich, resonant tone that seemed to dim even the bright torches illuminating the classroom, "I need each and every one of you to fix your eyes upon mine."

Confusion rippled through the room at this unusual request. The students exchanged bewildered glances, silently questioning why Professor Watson would ask them to look into his eyes.

Harry and Hermione, privy to some inside information, shared another meaningful look. In their second year, Professor Watson had told them a secret about his unique eyes. According to him, his eyes contained a special magic, functioning like a reservoir capable of storing vast amounts of magical power for use in duels. He had told the trio - Harry, Hermione, and Ron - that if they ever witnessed his eyes returning to their original brown color, it would indicate that he was engaging in battle with his full, unleashed power.

Unfortunately, Harry had never had the opportunity to see Professor Watson's eyes in their natural state except when he used magic to change their colours.

There was a possibility that on the night of the Quidditch final, Professor Watson had used his full power. But they had been too far away to notice such a subtle change in eye color amidst the chaos.

Despite their confusion and nervousness, the young wizards obediently followed Bryan's instruction. They stared intently into his oddly colored eyes, their own eyes wide and unblinking, not daring to look away for even a moment.

As the classroom fell into an expectant hush, the ambient sounds of Hogwarts became more distinct. The howling of the wind outside the castle walls, the subtle creaking of ancient timbers, and the soft crackling of the torches seemed amplified in the quiet air.

A mysterious, almost otherworldly atmosphere settled over the room. The young wizards, sensing that something beyond their wildest imaginations was about to unfold, opened their eyes even wider, desperate not to miss a single moment.

Observing their rapt attention, a slight smile tugged at the corners of Bryan's lips. In the next instant, his pale purple eyes suddenly blazed with an intense, otherworldly light. A strange, pulsating wave of energy surged forth from his pupils, expanding outward in concentric circles. In the blink of an eye, this mysterious force enveloped all the young wizards in the room.

And then, abruptly, the world plunged into darkness.

Hermione felt as though she had been suddenly cast into the depths of an endless, pitch-black ocean. The darkness that engulfed her seemed to rival eternity itself, a void so complete and absolute that it defied comprehension.

Panic rising in her chest, Hermione instinctively tried to struggle against the oppressive blackness, to cry out in terror, but to her mounting horror, she found that she had no control over her body's movements. It was as if her physical form had ceased to exist, leaving only a cluster of intangible thoughts and emotions, sinking ever deeper into the abyss.

In the boundless darkness that seemed to stretch on forever, a single streak of pure, brilliant white light suddenly appeared. It tore through the eternal submersion like a bolt of lightning, a beacon of hope in the endless void. Panic-stricken and desperate for any escape from the terrifying darkness, Hermione's consciousness eagerly moved towards that tantalizing ray of light. With a sensation that defied physical description, she passed through what felt like a doorway between realities.

A deafening buzz filled her senses, rattling her very being. When it subsided, Hermione found herself kneeling on what appeared to be an absolutely smooth, pure white surface that stretched as far as the eye could see in every direction. Everything around her was an unbroken expanse of pristine white, seemingly without end or definition. The stark contrast to the earlier darkness was almost painful to observe.

"Professor Watson," Hermione called out, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and confusion. Tears welled up in her eyes as the full weight of her bewildering situation bore down upon her. But there was no response; the world remained as silent as it was white, offering no comfort or explanation.

"Harry, where are you?" she called again, her voice tinged with desperation. This time, her plea seemed to have an effect on the strange, featureless world around her.

A beam of grayish-black light, starkly visible against the pure white backdrop, descended from above. It landed beside her with a soft whoosh, the sound oddly muffled in the vast emptiness. As the light beam made contact with the ground, it began to transform, gradually coalescing and taking shape. Within moments, a bewildered-looking Harry materialized from the light, his green eyes wide with shock and confusion.

This seemed to be just the beginning. One after another, beams of light in various shades began to descend from the infinite whiteness above. Each beam landed and transformed, revealing the familiar faces of their Hogwarts classmates. Soon, the white expanse was dotted with groups of disoriented students, all looking around in stunned silence, trying to make sense of their surroundings.

No one could say with any certainty what they had just experienced. The only thing they knew for sure was that it must have something to do with Professor Watson and the strange request he had made for them to look into his eyes.

"Where are we?" Harry asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he rose to his feet. He looked around at the vast, empty world in utter confusion, his hand instinctively reaching for a wand that wasn't there. Just moments ago, they had been in the familiar surroundings of Professor Watson's classroom at Hogwarts. Now, in the blink of an eye, they found themselves in this strange, featureless place that defied all logic and understanding.

Ginny spoke up softly. "Did Professor Watson somehow take us out of Hogwarts?" she asked, her brown eyes wide with a mixture of fear and awe.

"That's impossible!" Hermione exclaimed, though her voice held a note of uncertainty that showed her own doubts. Her logical mind struggled to reconcile what she knew with what she was experiencing. "If you've read 'Hogwarts: A History' as I have, you'd know that there are incredibly powerful protective spells into the school. These enchantments prevent all forms of apparition or magical transportation in or out of the grounds."

Neville, his round face pale with fear, chimed in with a trembling voice. "But this is Professor Watson we're talking about, isn't it?" he said, glancing nervously around as if expecting Bryan to materialize at any moment. "He can probably do just about anything. I mean, we've all seen what he's capable of..."

At this point, Hermione didn't have the energy or feeling to refute Neville's somewhat naive view of their professor's abilities. Like all the young wizards surrounding her, she was desperately trying to make sense of their current situation.

Suddenly, a familiar, steady voice cut through the oppressive silence, causing the students to jump in surprise. "Welcome," it said, the single word filled with warmth and a hint of amusement. The young wizards quickly turned towards the source of the sound, their eyes widening in a mixture of relief and uneasiness.

There, seemingly squeezing out of a distorted, hazy patch of air beside them, was Professor Watson. His eyes, normally an unsettling shade of pale purple, now seemed deeper and more mysterious than ever. An odd, knowing smile appeared across his lips as he observed his bewildered students.

With a flourish, Professor Watson spread his arms wide, his robes rippling with the motion as if stirred by an unfelt breeze. "Welcome, everyone," he repeated, his voice resonating with power and barely contained excitement, "to my Spiritual World."

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