A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts

At the Black family mansion.

Penelope was in the living room, explaining the defense arrangements of the 'Future World' company to Harry and the others.

"Because of the business nature, Gringotts couldn't employ concealment spells like here. Their protection is more akin to Hogwarts. It'll improve significantly when they develop anti-thief waterfalls and a series of protection spells. Additionally, every employee at the company must grasp the basics of self-defense. Professor Hep chose Stupefy and Protego as the basic ones."

"No Disarming Charm?" Harry expressed some regret.

"Perhaps he believes stunning is more reliable," Penelope said uncertainly. "There are other useful spells—like the Bright Fire Charm, Illusionary Shift, Disguise Charm, and the Magic Iron Armor Spell. But not everyone can handle these advanced spells; it'll take time to spread them comprehensively."

Then, Penelope suggested playing a dueling game.

They headed to the training room on the second basement level—a larger space than the fifth floor, and they wouldn't disturb anyone.

"Who's going first?" Penelope confidently stood in the center of the room.

"You sound like you're planning a tag team match with us," Fred teased, a hint of mischief in his tone.

"It's guidance," Penelope corrected seriously. "I've mastered every one of those spells you mentioned."

"I see traces of Percy in her," Harry overheard Ron muttering to Neville. "I should've realized earlier. Why can she tolerate Percy, the workaholic? Because they're the same type of person."

Harry chuckled, catching Ginny staring at him through the corner of his eye, but as he looked, she averted her gaze. He suddenly remembered last night's kiss—or whatever it was. He wasn't entirely sure.

"Harry! Harry!"

He snapped back. Everyone had retreated to the edges of the black stone walls, while Penelope eagerly looked at him. He instinctively tightened his grip on the wand.

"Oh, Harry spaced out. That's not good," Fred murmured softly before excitedly saying, "Three, two, one, begin!"

"Protego—"

"Bang!"

A red light hit Penelope's chest, sending her flying. She landed solidly on the mat, her wand gracefully arcing through the air and landing in Harry's hand.

Struggling, Penelope pushed herself up from the mat, wearing an expression of disbelief.

Harry was surprised himself; his spellcasting speed seemed faster, but he suspected it might be an illusion.

"Mate, you better tone it down," Ron leaned in, whispering, "or Percy will come storming down for revenge."

"I didn't use my full power—" Harry explained quietly.

"Another round, I was too careless just now," Penelope said, determinedly.

"So, round one goes to Harry; round two, ready—" Fred fulfilled his role.

This time, Penelope held on longer. Harry refrained from using the Disarming Charm, instead seizing an opportunity for a Leg-Locker Curse. Penelope took a hard fall and couldn't get up.

Others rushed over. Hermione cast a counter-curse and fetched a swelling solution—Penelope's face was bruised, but everyone restrained their laughter.

"Do you fully master non-verbal casting?" Penelope asked in frustration.

"I've improved a lot recently," Harry admitted sheepishly. He was now certain it wasn't an illusion; he'd previously been limited to silently casting a few dueling spells, but today his touch felt surprisingly good.

Could it be another impact from Voldemort? A shadow loomed over his mind.

"Will this leave a mark?" Fred, concerned, asked, "I mean, if Mum finds out—"

Harry drew a sharp breath, his thoughts vanishing.

"Don't worry, I won't spill," Penelope shrugged. "Skill mismatch."

Harry's fondness for Penelope increased significantly.

Next, Harry and Hermione started their match, spells shooting from their wands in the training room. Almost half a minute passed, nothing but the sound of spells hitting the walls echoed, neither speaking a word.

"They're too familiar with each other, sometimes just sensing what spell the other will use," Ron explained. "But Harry's in great form today. Remember, he's no match for Hermione in non-verbal casting."

"Can you do what they're doing?" Fred and George carefully examined Ron.

"Of course—just a bit lacking," Ron said, panting heavily, seeing their eager expressions.

"Look, Hermione's about to use combined magic, that one Flitwick favors. Oh, what's that?" He widened his eyes, surprised by the sudden change in the situation on the field.

At some point, a series of chestnut wood chips flew out from Hermione's bead bag. These chips shimmered with red, hot magical circuits. Under Hermione's precise control, they encircled Harry.

Harry felt uneasy; he instantly cast an advanced Protego, integrating 'flowing' magical circuits into the barrier, creating an invisible spherical shield rippling with light green ripples, enclosing him. He looked up, seeing Hermione craning her neck, peering to check if he was ready, then swiftly swiping her wand downward.

The chestnut wood chips exploded simultaneously around him, turning into dazzling fireballs.

Harry felt dizzy momentarily. The explosion hadn't harmed him, but the loud noise was overwhelming.

"What kind of magic is this?" When the flames subsided, he couldn't help asking. "It looks somewhat like magical circuitry."

"You're right," Hermione said cheerfully. "It's unstable magical circuitry, something one should avoid, but if controlled properly—" she made an explosion gesture.

"Turning failed magical circuits into an offensive strategy?" Harry pondered; this approach wasn't simple, demanding high control of magical power.

"How did you come up with that?" Ron couldn't resist asking.

"Well—I've been studying a lot of magical circuitry recently. While reviewing my experiences in studying ancient magical circuits, I suddenly remembered the professor pointing me in that direction during our first class." Hermione smiled, her eyes forming two crescent moons. The success of the new move put her in high spirits.

"I think he might've just been demonstrating a wrong example back then," Ron cracked the truth.

Next were Neville and Ginny. Neville seemed ingrained with defensive counterattacks, hardly leaving any openings. Ginny tried several spells in succession but found no weaknesses. Moreover, she wasn't adept at dueling; she just stood and cast spells in place. In frustration, she employed her signature Bat Bogey Hex, only to be easily knocked down by Neville.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked.

Ginny shook her head, picking herself up.

"You two have changed so much," Fred genuinely commented. "Even I'm itching to join."

"When was the last time we seriously dueled?" George pretended to inquire.

"If we don't count yesterday when you tried that hairy hex on me with a protective cap, I think it was during the dueling competition last school year. We both got knocked out, remember?" Fred said seriously.

"The one where we fought with dung bombs?" George recalled.

"But our fights were too boring, like looking in a mirror," Fred reluctantly admitted. They hadn't spent much time on dueling, but their everyday brawling made them stronger than the average person.

"You're right. It's better to switch partners—" George glanced at Ron.

...

Ron got beaten badly.

"Actually, you held on for quite a while," Harry helped him up. "But Fred and George are just too in sync, like they've mastered the art of cloning."

"I thought it was a 2-on-2," Ron rubbed his shoulder. "But they're even more shameless than I imagined. Ouch, this will definitely swell."

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