Chapter 12: The Crucible and the Disarming Charm
Scuol was less a school and more a crucible, a military academy forged for a singular, secret purpose. Its curriculum encompassed everything taught at Hogwarts and then delved into subjects no other school would dare. Charms, Potions, Transfiguration, and History were taught alongside Combat, Applied Defence, Alchemy, and Survival. There was no "Defence Against the Dark Arts" at Scuol; such concepts were integrated directly into Charms, Combat, and Applied Defence. Herbology was stripped down to its most practical, often lethal, components and divided between Potions and Alchemy. For a Scuol student, the safest way to deal with an unknown plant in the field was to burn it to ash with a powerful fire charm. They only memorized the handful of species that exploded, released neurotoxins, or were otherwise more dangerous when set ablaze.
The Combat and Applied Defence classes were brutally hands-on, teaching students how to fight, how to defend, how to efficiently neutralize different types of enemies, and, most importantly, how not to be killed by them. The enemies in these lessons were not just other wizards, but a host of magical creatures and races. Vampires and werewolves were considered basic training. The real threats, the ones they prepared for with grim focus, were the ancient races like the elves, with whom wizards had a long and bloody history.
From the age of seven, Scuol students were subjected to the Cruciatus and Imperius Curses once a month. This was not punishment; it was training. The specific target of this brutal conditioning was the magic of the elves.
"Think of a Veela," Solim explained, his voice flat. "When they dance and sing, most men fall under a spell of infatuation and bliss. It's a compulsion, a subtle magic affecting the mind and soul. A strong-willed wizard can resist it, and a good slap can break the victim free. But what a Veela can do, an elf can do a hundred times more powerfully. Their enchantments don't wear off with a slap. To break an elf's grip on your soul requires a far more powerful stimulus."
He looked at their horrified faces. "The Cruciatus Curse. It was originally developed as a counter-measure—a way to shock a wizard's system so violently that it would shatter an elf's influence. Of course, someone writhing on the ground in agony isn't much use in a fight. But with repeated exposure, the body learns to recover faster. You don't feel less pain; you just learn to function through it. You build a resistance."
This was the core of Scuol's philosophy: to forge elite wizards, a dedicated fighting force, through any means necessary. The vigilance against ancient enemies had never faded, and the methods, however inhumane, had been preserved. The Cruciatus built endurance. The Imperius built mental fortitude and resistance to compulsion magic. Even Aurors received training to resist these curses, but their sessions were gentle compared to the relentless conditioning at Scuol.
The application of these curses was a precise science, requiring masters of magical theory to control the intensity. Too strong, and the damage to a child's mind and magic could be catastrophic and permanent. Too weak, and the training was useless.
Scuol only accepted children who had exhibited a magical outburst before the age of seven, ensuring a high baseline of power. But the real nightmare began at seven. From that birthday until graduation, students endured twenty-four Unforgivable Curses every year—no summer breaks, only a brief reprieve at Christmas. Mistakes in other classes earned "extra lessons"—additional, unscheduled sessions with the Cruciatus and Imperius Curses.
The common greeting among Scuol students was a deadpan, "When do you think you'll snap?"
"The next second."
Or, "Already there."
The atmosphere was one of constant, grinding pressure. It was this environment that left every Scuol graduate… marked. Different.
"And that's the gist of it," Solim said, his tone shifting back to its usual calm. "If you ever see a Scuol graduate who looks perfectly normal, my advice is to run. Because they are either completely insane, teetering on the brink, or so powerful and controlled that you are merely an insect to them."
(⊙⊙)
"When did you get back?!" the three of them shouted in unison, jumping. They hadn't heard him re-enter the room.
"While you were all staring intently at Neville," Solim said with a faint smile.
He shook his head, as if to clear it of the dark memories. "Scuol is, above all, a school that prioritizes practical combat. I can say without exaggeration that five Scuol graduates could take this entire castle. The professors excluded, of course. That said, not everyone becomes a fighter. Those without the aptitude are funneled into Potions or Alchemy."
The gap between a Scuol student and a Hogwarts student was a chasm. The quality of students, their dedication, and the depth of teaching were on entirely different levels. But then, their purposes were fundamentally different. One existed to create living weapons; the other to… well, to educate.
"To be honest," Solim sighed, a rare note of genuine weariness in his voice, "the quality of education at Scuol is unparalleled. You are given access to magical knowledge, theory, and techniques that are completely unknown to the outside world. Whether you learn them is up to you." He looked up at the ceiling, his arms crossed. "Seriously, if it weren't for the monthly dose of torture, I would never have left for Hogwarts."
"Is it... is it as bad as it sounds?" Draco asked, his voice barely a whisper.
"I'll probably be proficient enough to cast the Cruciatus Curse myself by my third year here," Solim said, glancing at Draco. "Would you like a demonstration?"
"Merlin, no!" Draco paled, swallowing hard. If he could help it, he never wanted to feel that curse for the rest of his life.
"Alright, enough about that place." Solim stood up abruptly. "If nothing else—" He stopped himself, as if catching a jinx before it could leave his mouth. "No, I'm not going to tempt fate. Let's move on. Up, all of you. Today, I'm going to teach you a spell that's actually useful in a fight."
In the adjacent, cushion-lined room, Solim faced the three of them, his wand held loosely in his left hand.
"The best introduction to combat magic is the Disarming Charm. It's simple, effective, and non-lethal." He watched as they drew their own wands. "But before we even say the incantation, the first thing you need to master is how to hold your wand."
He explained that most wizards simply clutched their wand in a fist. While fine for everyday magic, this "power grip" was a liability in a duel. It locked the wrist, forcing the entire arm to move to aim, creating slow, telegraphed motions.
"A duelist holds a wand more like a conductor's baton or a painter's brush," Solim demonstrated, pinching his wand delicately between his thumb, index, and middle finger. "This 'precision grip' frees your wrist, allowing for faster, smaller, and more precise movements. You aim with your fingers and wrist, not your whole arm. Watch Professor Flitwick; he uses a variant of this. Professor McGonagall uses a standard power grip. He was a dueling champion. She is a brilliant academic, but in a sudden fight, she'd be disarmed in three moves by a trained opponent."
The three of them looked at their own wand-holds with new, critical eyes.
"Alright, before I teach you the Disarming Charm, I need to ask," Solim said, his gaze settling on Draco and Hermione. Neville was using the wand he'd provided, so its properties were known. "I know it's a bit personal, but is your wand core dragon heartstring?"
"My wand is vine wood with a dragon heartstring core," Hermione said, puzzled. "Does it matter?"
"Different cores have different affinities," Solim explained. "Dragon heartstring is powerful and leans towards forceful, direct magic, but it can be fickle. It's known to change allegiance if its owner is soundly defeated." He took Hermione's wand from her, examining it with a practiced eye. "Vine wood... also known as ivy. A wand of this wood is famously loyal and unwavering. Paired with a less loyal dragon heartstring... it's a fascinating combination. It suggests a core contradiction in you, Hermione—a struggle between steadfast loyalty and a powerful, adaptable ambition." He handed the wand back to her.
"Alright, since there are no major conflicts, we can begin." Solim gestured for them to gather closer. "The Disarming Charm is one of the most elegantly simple spells ever created. The incantation is Expelliarmus. The wand movement is a sharp, forward flick. It channels the intent to disarm, to separate your opponent from their weapon. It's straightforward. I expect you'll all manage it within a few tries. Now, watch closely."