That same evening, Viktor gathered his group of Slytherins. He stood opposite them, his face as dark as a thundercloud. No one dared to move; even breathing felt risky. His gaze was filled with a coldness that could freeze water in a glass. The silence in the room was so deafening it seemed you could hear nerves fraying.
Viktor slowly looked at everyone, and the tension in the air felt palpable. Then, smiling, he said:
— Well then... I've thought it over and decided to agree. I will begin teaching you how to fight.
These words landed like a clap of thunder. Everyone had expected him to scold them for doubting him, so they let out a sigh of relief. Their eyes lit up, reflecting their anticipation. Over the past year, Viktor had not only proven he was a strong wizard—he had become a legend. He had single-handedly dealt with pure-blood fanatics who could intimidate even adults. He had killed a troll, a feat that many experienced Aurors couldn't accomplish. And, as he himself claimed, he had won a real battle against a dangerous dark wizard. If someone like him took it upon himself to teach them, it meant they, too, would become strong wizards. After all, attacking spells were forbidden at school, and at home one could only master basic spells, unless, of course, they had Auror parents willing to share more serious knowledge.
— From this moment on, everyone except for George, Oliver, and Sophia will be training.
Before he could continue, George jumped up indignantly:
— And why are we excluded?
— Do you have the audacity to ask? I inquired about your academic performance with the professors. The three of you, it turns out, are at risk of failing your end-of-year exams.
A third-year girl named Sophia raised her hand.
— How did I end up on this list? I'm doing well!
Viktor looked at her, and his stern expression softened.
— Are you Sophia? Well, I have no specific complaints about you. But Professor McGonagall personally asked me to work with you on Transfiguration. Last year you got an "Acceptable," but she's sure you can get an "Outstanding."
The girl sadly lowered her head.
— Fine, — Viktor concluded, — you'll spend a couple of hours on Transfiguration, and then you can join the rest.
— We can do that? — George exclaimed.
— You can't. While I spent four days looking for a spell I could teach you, you managed to blow up a potions cauldron. Do you know how much I had to listen to from the Head of House? You will brew and brew until you brew me Felix Felicis.
— What?! — He jumped out of his seat, his voice breaking into a shout. — I'll never be able to brew that!
Viktor smiled ominously, and that smile made George turn pale.
— If I could, you can too.
— And where will we practice? — asked Daphne, who was casually sitting on the edge of the teacher's desk behind Viktor. — We can't just do it in the school.
— We'll have to think about that. We can still practice defensive charms, but for attacking spells, we'll need to find a place where no one will see us.
One of the wizards raised his hand:
— How will we practice defensive charms if we can't attack each other?
Viktor sighed as if he had been asked the most idiotic question in the world. He walked over to the first desk, grabbed a thick book, and hurled it right at him. The student instinctively dodged, and the book slammed into the wall with a thud.
— Can't you use your hands? — Viktor asked mockingly. — We'll throw different objects at each other and try to defend against them. And for you specifically, I'll prepare a couple of throwing knives. So before classes, practice Protego if you want to keep your limbs.
— Maybe we can use the Slytherin meeting hall?
Viktor raised an eyebrow in surprise.
— What meeting hall?
Daphne rolled her eyes.
— It's that room in the common room that you once blew up.
— Ah, I remember! What a good place! If we remove the table, it's quite spacious.
— We need to talk to Gemma and deal with the pure-bloods, — Daphne said. — It's still their room.
— Don't worry about the others, I know how to handle them, — Viktor waved his hand, as if dismissing trivial matters. — As for Gemma... who's that? — he asked, squinting.
Daphne looked at him wearily.
— Are you serious? She's our prefect.
— Oh, right, — Viktor nodded. — What? Don't look at me like that. I remember, I was just testing you.
Daphne sighed wearily, deciding not to continue this pointless discussion.
— I'll talk to Gemma, and you'll take care of the others, — she offered.
— My smart girl, — he smiled and blew her a kiss. — We'll do just that. On that note, our meeting has come to an end. You are free to go. On Sunday, at ten in the morning, I'll be waiting for you in Viktor's Hall. — Everyone stood up and began to leave, anticipating the upcoming training.
Daphne raised an eyebrow in surprise.
— Did you already claim it and even rename it?
Viktor scoffed.
— Don't worry, the room is ours. Who in this school can forbid me from doing anything? If we can't negotiate nicely, we'll just take it.
Daphne nodded thoughtfully, deep down knowing that was most likely exactly what would happen.
— Viktor, I'll be coming too.
A familiar voice came from right behind Daphne, who was still swinging her legs on the teacher's desk. Viktor looked at Daphne in surprise, and then cautiously looked behind her. There, as if it were the most normal thing, sat Hermione, leaning her elbows on the teacher's desk.
— Have you been sitting there this whole time? — Viktor asked, stunned.
— Yes, Daphne called me, — Hermione answered calmly, to which Daphne gave a casual nod.
Viktor looked sharply at Daphne.
— Daphne, you called her?! Why?! Do you even remember that you invited... you invited an enemy from another house to an important meeting?!
Hermione snorted, getting up from her seat.
— "Important meeting," my foot, — she mumbled with slight disdain. — Daphne, let's go to the library.
Daphne nodded, gracefully jumped off the desk, and they walked toward the exit together, leaving Viktor in complete bewilderment.
Viktor watched them leave helplessly and quietly asked into the emptiness:
— And when did they manage to become such good friends?
— Shared trouble brings people together, — a voice came from somewhere behind him.
— A-a-a-a! — Viktor spun around, nearly jumping from the shock.
— That's what my mom says, — George added, smiling.
Viktor looked at him in surprise.
— Why didn't you leave? Have you been standing behind me this whole time?
George smiled awkwardly, scratching the back of his head.
Viktor sighed tiredly.
— What kind of day is this? First Hermione, now you. Who's next, the girl from The Ring, so I can crap my pants? — For a second, Viktor seriously considered the idea.
— Viktor, — George called, trying to get Viktor's attention again.
— Ah, yes, George, what do you want? — Viktor asked, snapping out of his thoughts.
— Can Oliver and I train with you too?
— Who? — Viktor asked in surprise.
— You know, Oliver, — George pointed to one of the desks, where, it turned out, another boy had been standing, completely unnoticed until that moment.
An eye twitch started on Viktor's face.
— Have you been here this whole time too?
Oliver nodded, completely unfazed.
Viktor sighed wearily and, mumbling to himself, headed for the exit.
— I've been too unobservant lately... Maybe I'm sick? — He stopped at the classroom door and shook his head. — No, I'm probably just overworked, I need to go get some sleep.
Oliver watched Viktor leave and, turning to George, asked:
— Is that a "yes" or a "no"?
George shrugged.
— I didn't get it either.