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0671 The First Drill
🕑 Added 2025-03-31 11:03:48 +0000 UTCThe first escape training drill turned out exactly as Bryan had expected. If one had to describe it in a single word, it would be: mess, a complete mess.
Faced with an enemy force three times their own, the only thing the tested groups could think of was to have all three members charge in one direction and break through. The outcome for the students was instant and embarrassing; they were overwhelmed by the oncoming attacks with the unstoppable force amidst the resulting chaos. Several three-person groups tried a different approach, breaking out in three separate directions, but the results were no different.
The three groups serving as the encircling party performed equally poorly. Their attacks seemed to have reverted to the initial stage, completely lacking in any technique. The maneuvers they had practiced for months seemed to have vanished from their muscle memory. What remained was an uncoordinated mess, as they had somehow lost the tacit understanding between team members that had previously been developing.
Each student fought as an individual, relying solely on their large numerical advantage to achieve what could hardly be called a victory—more accurately, it was just the inevitable outcome of overwhelming force.
As the clock of Hogwarts chimed, signaling the approach of eleven o'clock, Bryan looked at the gathering of dazed and visibly disheartened students and chuckled softly.
"Today's homework assignment," He announced, his voice coming through the heavy silence that had fallen upon the classroom, "is for each of you to write a twelve-inch essay discussing what tactics should be used to quickly achieve your strategic objectives when besieged and counter-besieged. I expect your completed work submitted to me no later than next Wednesday evening—"
A twelve-inch essay was no small task, and the students' spirits sank even lower. Bryan paid no attention to the students' groans. He gathered his things and prepared to leave the classroom with a smile, but just as he turned to step away, Draco suddenly called out to him.
"Please wait a moment, Professor Watson!"
Bryan stopped and turned around slowly, "Is there something you need, Mr. Malfoy?"
"Oh, well, Professor—" A brief glimmer of cunning light flashed in Draco's eyes. He used a polite tone to show just the right amount of humility. "Today's lesson was very deep, and the essay topic is, I must say, quite challenging. I will need to do some research in the library to find some relevant materials—"
Bryan raised a single eyebrow. Under the gaze of his increasingly interested classmates, Draco continued. "You see, Professor, I was wondering if you might possibly provide me with a note to facilitate my access to certain sections—"
Bryan looked down at Draco from his height. Draco maintained a docile, earnest expression, though the light in his eyes flickered unsteadily.
"No problem, Mr. Malfoy," Bryan responded smoothly. "Your request is very reasonable—"
Bryan smiled, took a deep look at Draco, and quickly wrote a note on the parchment Draco eagerly handed over.
"Does anyone else wish to make a similar request?"
Bryan looked at the students in the hall, but except for Hermione glaring angrily at Draco, the others all had slightly dazed looks on their faces, and no one said a word. Bryan pursed his lips thoughtfully. After casting a final, meaningful glance at the now gleeful Draco, he left quickly without saying much else.
The students poured out of the classroom. Most of them were making their way toward the Great Hall for lunch, but as it was still relatively early in the day, quite a few were also planning to return briefly to their respective dormitories. Gradually, the crowd thinned and dispersed throughout the corridors of Hogwarts.
"Does anyone know what that little bastard Malfoy is plotting this time?" George's voice was tinged with undisguised contempt.
Throughout their journey from the classroom, Malfoy had an intolerably arrogant look on his face. After the Slytherin students had separated from the main group and swaggered to their own table, George asked impatiently.
"Just look at that stupid, self-satisfied expression," He continued, gesturing toward the Slytherin table with disgust. "As if he's somehow gained some massive advantage over the rest of us!"
Fred nodded vigorously, his identical face reflecting George's hostility.
The words of the Weasley twins sparked murmurs of agreement from the surrounding Gryffindors, their collective suspicion of Malfoy was now a well-established tradition.
"What's really going on, Hermione?" Harry leaned forward across the table. From Hermione's expression, he instinctively realized that she should know something about the situation.
Harry's question also reminded the group of Gryffindor students. They all knew Hermione had the sharpest mind among them and turned their gazes to her, wanting her to share her thoughts.
"Malfoy asking Professor Watson for a note to access the library's restricted section almost certainly isn't for finding materials to write his assigned essay—"
By this point, Hermione's initial flare of anger had subsided, replaced by a cool analysis. She continued calmly, "I guess he's planning to search the restricted section for any books that record the creation process for Portkeys, or perhaps procedures for establishing private connections between fireplaces while avoiding the monitoring systems of the Department of Magical Transportation—"
"The restricted section has information like that?!" Neville blurted out, his face showing deep shock.
"The restricted section contains virtually everything imaginable, Neville—" Harry responded offhandedly, his mind momentarily revisiting the help they had gotten from the library's restricted section over past few years at Hogwarts.
Suddenly, Harry snapped back to the present situation, his tone shifted to one of serious concern, "Is Malfoy truly not worried about being discovered by the Ministry of Magic if he plans to secretly create unauthorized Portkeys and fireplaces?"
"Malfoy's dad spends a large sum of Galleons every year on those greedy politicians. I guess he doesn't care about this at all. Besides--"
Fred said indignantly, but then his eyes rolled around. "Oh, that despicable, cunning snake— he probably saw through the whole thing--"
"Saw through what exactly?" Harry immediately pressed, leaning forward with interest.
"Professor Watson's intentions, obviously—" George stated matter-of-factly, as if explaining something obvious.
"These particular methods were told to us in so much detail by Professor Watson, which logically shows that he most likely used them personally at some point—probably before he achieved his current level of fame. But more importantly, Professor Watson doesn't have any 'extended educational experiences' in Azkaban, does he? So, the Ministry's monitoring systems shouldn't be able to detect or monitor these specific methods—"
A flash of understanding immediately appeared in Harry's eyes. The tempting possibility of finding an opportunity to explore the restricted section while hiding beneath his invisibility cloak suddenly popped into his mind.
"Think about Professor Watson's last question--"
More than one person had similar idea as Harry. Lee Jordan said regretfully, "He was probably just waiting for us to ask him for a note. Oh, what a cunning move!"
The topic of whether to break the law to make a few backup plans for oneself in case of danger was too sensitive. Even the normally reckless and courageous Gryffindor students dared not discuss it openly without careful restraint. Everyone had their own schemes in mind, and Harry was also hesitating.
As far as the Ministry of Magic was concerned, he might already have a 'bad record.' Before the start of his second year at Hogwarts, Dobby had used a Hover Charm within his bedroom at Privet Drive, causing him to receive an official warning from the Ministry.
Before the beginning of his third year, in a moment of uncontrolled magical outburst, he had inadvertently inflated his Aunt Marge like a human balloon and was caught red-handed by Ministry officials. Although Fudge had dismissively branded these incidents as minor misdemeanors, Harry couldn't help but wonder: if he broke wizarding law again…
The Ministry of Magic surely wouldn't sentence him to Azkaban, forcing him to confront those disgusting Dementors with only his wand for protection, would they?
Just the thought of it sent a reflexive shudder down Harry's spine. One needed only to observe Sirius's spooky expression whenever Azkaban was mentioned to understand the horror of such a fate.
Upon entering the Great Hall, with its ceiling currently displaying a blue sky, the Gryffindor students dispersed to their usual places. Given the early hour, quite few students had come down for lunch, leaving the vast hall unusually quiet.
Ron was sitting near the entrance in conversation with Lavender with occasional bursts of laughter interspersing in their dialogue. When he caught sight of Harry and the others approaching, Ron abruptly stood up, his movements showing nervousness.
Without bidding farewell or saying anything to Lavender, who looked momentarily bewildered at his abrupt leaving, he rushed toward his friends, his ears were already beginning to flush crimson.
Observing this peculiar behavior, Harry's brow furrowed slightly in puzzlement, and he instinctively glanced sideways at Hermione to gauge her reaction. However, Hermione, who was also looking at Ron, had a very calm expression and showed no abnormality.
Harry frowned even more deeply, and a doubt arose in his mind - why was he observing Hermione's expression?
"What were you all discussing so intensely just now?" Ron asked hurriedly, his voice slightly higher than usual. "I noticed you standing huddled together in the entrance hall for quite some time. Did something particularly interesting happen during your Physical Education class?"
The words tumbled out rapidly from Ron's mouth in an obvious attempt to deflect attention from his own discomfort, as his ears had an even brighter shade of red.
"We'll share the details later, Ron—" Hermione interjected smoothly before Harry could respond.
Discussing the sensitive content of today's PE lesson in public was inappropriate. Recognizing Harry's tendency to speak without fully considering the consequences, Hermione effectively cut the topic of conversation first.
By this time, Lavender had already turned in her seat to chat with Parvati Patil. Harry, Ron, and Hermione also sat in their usual places at the Gryffindor table.
Hermione opened her bag, took out the book Sirius had given her, and while taking large bites of a meat pie, she immersed herself completely in the book, her eyes darting rapidly across the pages, utterly absorbed in its contents.
"How are you finding the book?" Harry said, breaking the awkward silence. He couldn't shake the persistent feeling that Hermione's calm demeanor was somehow incompatible with the situation, while Ron's current state of obvious discomfort and awkwardness seemed far more appropriate and expected.
He glanced sideways at Hermione, casually looking for a topic.
"Absolutely fascinating—" Hermione responded distractedly, barely pausing in her reading. "This book is a travelogue written by one of Sirius's ancestors about two centuries ago. It records how this Mr. Black resolved various life-threatening crises he encountered while journeying throughout the magical communities of the world.
At this moment, I'm reading an especially fascinating passage describing his experiences in India, where he became entangled in a conflict with the local wizards there. He suffered the misfortune of being bitten by an extremely venomous magical serpent while simultaneously being hit by a nasty curse. Oh, I want to see how he got out of that trouble."
With that explanation delivered in a single breathless gush, Hermione's attention returned to the pages before her, her focus was intensifying to the point where she seemed to have forgotten the presence of her friends completely.
Harry opened his mouth to respond, then thought better of it. Years of friendship had taught him that interrupting Hermione when she was deeply engrossed in a book—particularly one containing information she believed to be 'interesting'—was likely to provoke her temper.
Across the table, Ron was eating his lunch with unusual focus, his gaze was focused on his plate, obviously avoiding meeting either Harry's or Hermione's eyes.
Harry blinked and pursed his lips, feeling a bit listless himself for a while.
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