James saw Ralph glance around, as if he expected a row of chairs to have suddenly appeared. The rest of the class was doing the same thing, their faces vaguely confused.
'On the mats!' Debellows laughed. 'My word, this is going to be a learning experience for all of us, I daresay. On the mats, students. Anywhere you like. That's the spirit.'
James hunkered down with his back against one of the clockwork dummies. As he leaned against it, it emitted a soft click and a whirring sound. The arm of the dummy popped upwards and the hand balled into a huge, padded fist. James boggled up at it, then at Ralph. Ralph looked characteristically worried as he settled uncomfortably on the mat.
'I don't know what kind of classes you are used to in the past, students,' Debellows said, clasping his hands behind his back and rocking on his heels. 'In fact, I have specifically asked not to be told of the methods of your previous Defence teachers. I have my way of doing things, a way that proved very successful during my years as the leader of the Harriers, and I intend to implement the same methods here. Many of you will be familiar with my exploits, but let me assure you: this is not a lecture class. We will not be discussing my adventures at great length, although they may from time to time prove instructive and illustrative. No, this is going to be a class where we do things. To learn is to perform! And perform you shall. You will most likely end up sore and exhausted. You may return from our classes bruised, sweaty, and bedraggled. But you will become strong! I will do my best to teach you everything I have gleaned from my years of confronting the Dark Arts. Now, I will require a volunteer.'
Debellows' gimlet eyes roamed eagerly over the crowd of second-years. A Ravenclaw named Joseph Torrance raised his hand tentatively.
'Excellent, that's it, don't be shy,' Debellow's called heartily. 'Come on up here, young man. I don't know your name, but I'll call you Ignatious.'
'My name's Joseph,' the boy said, joining Debellows at the front of the room.
'Joe, then. Fine, fine. What I want you to do, Joe, is pretend to be a werewolf. I want you to attack me.'
'Attack you, sir?' Joseph said a bit uncertainly.
'Yes, yes, as a werewolf. Just lunge at me, go for the throat. Don't be afraid to hurt me.'
Joseph swallowed, glancing out at the room, then back at Debellows. Gamely, he crouched, raised his hands with his fingers hooked, and charged, making a fair attempt at a ravenous howl. Just as he jumped, Debellows spun. In a blur of motion, he hooked one leg over the boy, spun him upwards into the air, produced his wand, and shouted an unintelligible command. Joseph froze in midair a moment before he'd have crashed to the mat. His face was still contorted in a comedic growl.
The class had barely had time to gasp before it was over. There was a moment of awed silence, and then a burst of applause. Graham nudged Morgan, nodding excitedly and pointing.
'He's perfectly all right,' Debellows called, shaking back the sleeves of his tunic. 'He's not even paralyzed, just suspended. Isn't that right, Ignatious?' He patted the boy on his upraised foot.
'It's Joseph, sir,' the boy replied, shaking himself and glaring nervously down at the floor.
'Joe, yes, certainly. The point, of course, is not to harm the poor creature, but simply to get its feet off the ground. If it cannot touch the ground, it cannot charge. If it cannot charge… well, the rest is elementary, as you can see. Brace yourself, Joe.'
Joseph barely had time to thrust his hands out in front of him before Debellows tapped him with his wand. The boy toppled to the mat.
Debellows looked brightly out over the students. 'Any questions?'
Graham shot his hand into the air. 'What was that incantation, sir?'
'Tsk, tsk, tsk,' Debellows chided, ticking his finger at Graham. 'Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Mr., ah, young man. 'Stamina before spells' is my motto. Did you happen to notice the maneuver I used to get the werewolf into the air first? That is the key to the entire affair. The spellwork is merely the icing on the cake. No, in this class, we will apply ourselves to the discipline of physically preparing ourselves for the challenges we may face as defenders of right. Did you know, class, that a fit-enough wizard may overcome even the Imperius Curse if he has enough stamina and mental force of will? It is true. For too long, the focus of civilian Defence Against the Dark Arts has been quick and dirty spellwork, protection charms, and tricky hexes. Here, I will not make you merely proficient in theory. Here, I will make you into warriors!'
He beamed out at the room, his dark crew cut bristling. After a moment, Kevin Murdock began to clap. The rest of the class joined in halfheartedly.
'I know you probably aren't excited about my approach,' Debellows said, raising one hand. 'There are those who do not utilize the same methods as I do; those who do not respect the importance of physical prowess, who believe that Expelliarmus spells and Patronuses are more than enough to battle the most evil of foes. In the Harriers, we call those people 'Aurors'.' He grinned, and there was a smattering of laughter. Kevin Murdock smirked back at James, nudging a fellow Slytherin. Debellows went on, 'But I think you'll find my approach quite effective in the long run. And I promise you: I will not ask any of you to do anything that I am not willing to do right alongside you. And now!' He clapped his hands together eagerly. 'Let us see where we stand. How many of you have ever heard of the Gauntlet?'
James glanced around the room. No one raised their hand this time. Debellows seemed undeterred.
'The Gauntlet is an ancient tool used by those training for battle. It is a sort of clockwork obstacle course. Granted, being wizards, we have outfitted ours with certain, er, specialized capabilities. There is no point to the Gauntlet other than to surpass it. Surely, you have all heard the phrase 'run the gauntlet'? I am about to illustrate what that phrase actually means.'
Debellows paced briskly across the room and stopped at the end of the line of clockwork apparatuses. He clasped his hands to his elbows and twisted back and forth at the waist, jumped from foot to foot half a dozen times, and then finally dropped to a crouch. He extended one arm, pointing his wand at the line of devices.
'Defendeum!' he barked.
Immediately, the apparatuses ratcheted, whirred, and clanked to life. Debellows launched forward, tucking and rolling beneath the first device as it swung a padded club across his path. With a grunt, the man leapt into the remaining clockwork. He moved in a sort of muscular ballet, lunging, crouching, and leaping through the mechanical melee. He dodged spinning wheels of padded fists, ducked under Stunning Spells fired from a bank of pop-up wands, leapt over kicking pommels and snapping padded jaws, and finally dove, flipped, and landed neatly on his feet at the end of the Gauntlet.
There was no applause this time. James stared, horrified, at the wildly thrashing clockwork monstrosity.
'So!' Debellows called over the noise of the Gauntlet, jamming his fists onto his hips. 'Who'll be first up, then?'
'He's completely daft!' Graham exclaimed as he limped his way to History of Magic. 'He must've taken one too many Stupefies to the brain when he was a Harrier or something!'
'No spells until Year Four,' Ralph said, shaking his head. 'And what was that stuff at the end? Who's Artis Decerto?'
'It's not a who, it's a what,' Rose said, falling in next to Ralph. 'It's a sort of magical version of karate.'
James nursed his elbow where it'd been pummeled in the Gauntlet. 'Where are you going, Rose?'
'History of Magic,' she replied primly.
Ralph glanced at her. 'Our History of Magic?'
'I don't know what you mean by that,' Rose said, pulling herself to her full height, which was approximately to Ralph's Adam's apple. 'My schedule has me in History of Magic, second period, Professor Binns. I can't help it if
