A certain Hogwarts professor of runes.

……

The owner of the Leaky Cauldron provided an empty basement that, according to him, had been abandoned for a long time.

Old Tom, hunched over, revealed a toothless grin: "I remember there are some protective spells here, but they might be out of order, so you'll have to deal with them yourselves."

He snapped his fingers a few times, and the torches stuck in the wall lit up. Then he bowed, backed away, and left.

Felix waved his wand, clearing away the accumulated dust and cobwebs in the room. He also smoothed out several broken floorboards. As his wand touched the floor, the ground rippled like waves, making Harry feel as if he were on a small boat, reminding him of Hagrid's first time taking him on a boat trip.

Once everything quieted down, the wooden floor transformed into an exotic carpet.

Harry paced back and forth a few steps, finding it not as soft as he had imagined. Professor Hyp explained, "I can't just provide a few mats so you can practice magic comfortably."

Under his gaze, some small, fragmented objects flew out of Professor Hyp's ring, leaping and transforming into a small square table, two armchairs, and some human-shaped targets.

At that moment, Felix was sitting in a chair, watching him from behind the square table.

“Now, Potter, let’s practice your best spell a hundred times.”

Harry's hand holding the wand trembled slightly, as if this was not quite what he expected...

He thought he would be scrambling to dodge the professor's attacks, like a chipmunk constantly jumping around, while Professor Hyp calmly cast spells and displayed his power.

But now, Professor Hyp behaves like a scholar, sitting quietly in his chair, and if he wore a pair of gold-rimmed glasses, he would look even more like a teacher he had seen in Muggle schools.

Harry looked at the target, which was seven or eight meters away from him, waved his wand, and shouted, "Expelliarmus!" A red beam of light shot out from the tip of the wand and hit the wall, but it was a full two feet away from the human-shaped target.

"Uh, sorry, I missed."

"It's okay, continue."

So Harry waved his wand repeatedly, and streaks of red light flew out. After about half an hour, he shouted weakly in a hoarse voice, "Expelliarmus..." but his wand only produced a string of sparks.

“Alright, let’s stop for now and come sit over here,” Felix said.

Harry wearily walked to the other side of the table and sat down. He looked at Professor Hyp across from him, who was scribbling on parchment. After a while, he looked up. "I know your spell well enough now. Very well, we've completed the first step of the test."

"That was just a test?" Harry exclaimed in surprise. He was exhausted; every cell in his body was screaming in agony.

Felix curled the corners of his lips and said softly in a seductive tone, "Potter, at your age, my understanding of disarming spells was no less than that of an ordinary adult wizard, and you have the potential to do so."

"Besides the disarming spell, you yourself have also mentioned that you're not very proficient with the armor spell."

"And the tongue-locking spell, I can even teach you one or two simple and useful spells..."

Harry swallowed hard, and by the bright firelight in the basement, though it was somewhat disrespectful, he felt he saw the devil's smile.

But he had to admit that he was tempted.

Professor Hyp didn't say what would happen if he learned these spells, but he couldn't help but start imagining things: the admiration of his classmates, extra points in class, and perhaps even a chance to show off his abilities to the girl he liked...

He said in a slightly trembling voice, "Professor, I will follow your arrangements." He felt that his tone was full of tragic grandeur, as if he were about to go to the execution ground.

Felix took out a piece of chocolate and handed it to him: "Eat something first, then we'll do the second test."

Ten minutes later.

Felix and Harry stood facing each other, about seven or eight meters apart.

“Potter, we’re here to test the full power of your spells. You need to get your emotions into full play. Remember what we talked about in dueling class? Determination, confidence, and most importantly, the Disarming Charm is to protect yourself and prevent your enemy from harming you.”

Harry nodded, took a deep breath, and imagined Malfoy standing opposite him, who had suddenly transformed into a troll with perky hair, waving a club and walking towards him...

"Pfft!" He suddenly laughed out loud. "Uh, sorry."

I spent quite a while building up my emotions—

"Except your weapons!"

Harry screamed at the top of his lungs, and a red beam the thickness of a finger shot straight toward Felix, only to be stopped by an invisible barrier.

“Not enough, Potter, let me see your potential!” Felix encouraged.

Harry gritted his teeth and channeled all his magic. For a moment, he truly felt the difference—the "active magic" Professor Hyp had spoken of. He silently chanted in his mind: Disarm, render the enemy incapable of harming me…

He thought of his real enemies: Professor Quirrell, the Basilisk, and... Voldemort!

After trembling a few times, the red light became as thin as a hair. Felix almost thought he had failed, but the next second, a scorching beam of light flew out from Harry's wand, spanning seven or eight meters, and instantly struck Felix's Ironclad Charm.

The two spells clashed in mid-air, their deep rumbles echoing through the basement.

Chapter 177 Harry's Special Training

"Potter, wake up! Potter..."

Harry slowly opened his eyes. The torchlight was a bit too bright, making Professor Hyp's shadow somewhat blurry.

For a moment, his expression was somewhat blank.

He got up from the ground, adjusted his glasses, and asked, "What happened to me?"

“Fatigue and exhaustion are normal phenomena.” Felix looked at him. “Let’s stop here for today. Let’s go upstairs and get something to eat. I also need to work out your special training plan.”

Harry felt extremely unwell, his limbs felt weak, and he felt lightheaded.

He followed Felix, staggering up the stairs, his stomach churning.

It wasn't until he downed a large glass of juice and ate two pies that he felt alive again and had the energy to think about some things.

"Professor, you said this phenomenon is normal. Have you had a similar experience? Also, you told me that the period after a magical surge is ideal for practicing spells, and this is based on your own experience..."

Harry slowed his speech as he recalled Hermione's poignant expression of sympathy for Professor Hyp.

The context was that news of the Duel Club had been released, and everyone's discussion revolved around the word "duel." Professor Hyp's 'glorious experience' was once again brought up in great detail, but the boys all wished they could take his place, while the little witches looked on with either admiration or sympathy for the unfair treatment he received at school.

Hermione is one of them.

Harry couldn't understand her line of thinking at the time, but now, he suddenly understood it a little.

In response to his question, Felix replied briefly, "Indeed..."

What exactly? Harry was still pondering this question as he lay in his own bed.

The next morning, Harry was awakened by Dobby's knocking. He opened the door groggily, and the house-elf respectfully handed him toiletries, with Professor Hyp standing beside him.

"Hurry up, Potter, we have a big mission today."

Harry was experiencing something new, a feeling similar to when he was a guest at the Burrow and was woken up by Mrs. Weasley. Few adults intervened in his life to remind him of brushing time—if not counting the Dursleys' angry roars at him.

They spent the entire morning huddled in the basement, and he kept casting the Disarming Spell. In Professor Hyp's words, "We need to maximize our profits. You'll find that during your student years, one trick is all you need."

He felt like he was about to vomit, but Professor Hyp patiently pointed out his mistakes and spent a lot of time explaining the advanced techniques of the spell.

“You have to imagine yourself as a duelist, or a rookie Auror. Your magic is very active; you can feel it, manipulate it, and control it, letting the magic flow out all at once,” Felix said, casting a Senses Charm on Harry.

"At the same time, this is a good time to learn the silent casting of the disarming spell."

"As for the magical theory part, I will only explain the part most closely related to the Disarming Charm. It may not be of much use to you in learning other spells, but we need to speed things up. I want to see how far you can go."

Harry noticed that Professor Hyp always seemed aloof in the basement, waking him up repeatedly without a moment's delay. But during breaks from training, he would take Harry to Florin's Ice Cream Shop or stand with him outside the window of the Quidditch Broom Shop, staring blankly at the latest Firebolt samples.

Of course, Harry guessed that Professor Hyp had nothing to do with brooms, because once again, after spacing out for two minutes, he asked himself, "Does it feel exhilarating when you use the Disarming Charm? Like you were born to know this spell?"

His answer at the time was somewhat hasty; he couldn't recall whether it was "somewhat similar" or, without any modesty, "that's it."

They also ran into Neville Longbottom, his classmate, a round-faced, forgetful boy. He was with his grandmother, who looked terrifying, carrying a large red handbag and scolding Neville harshly.

Harry wanted to run away because he had used Neville's name while riding the Knight Bus, and he hoped Neville's grandmother would never find out.

But Neville saw Harry and waved excitedly at him: "Harry, Harry! It's so good to see you, I lost my book list."

Harry quickly borrowed a piece of parchment from Professor Hyp and wrote the name of the new textbook on it.

“Ah, you must be Harry Potter. Neville told me about you, a good boy, very talented. You taught him the Disarming Charm, and he said you learned it very quickly, unlike him…” Neville’s grandmother clutched her handbag tightly, her brows furrowed. “This boy didn’t inherit his parents’ talent. I was worried sick about him until he received his acceptance letter.”

Neville grimaced and glanced furtively at Harry, who dared not speak. The old woman was truly frightening. But to his surprise, Professor Hyp, who had been silent, spoke up: "Neville Longbottom, I saw you on the course list. I'm glad you chose my class."

“Are you a professor at Hogwarts?” Neville’s grandmother asked.

“Felix Hyp, I teach ancient runes, madam.”

“I’ve heard of you, Mr. Hyp. I greatly admire your courage. Not everyone dares to confront a despicable pure-blood family,” she said proudly, pointing at Neville, “like his parents, who stood on the front lines of resistance against Voldemort’s rule during the war, even when tormented by some scum…”

She wiped her eyes and left with Neville.

Neville mouthed to Harry: See you on the train. Then, he was dragged away.

"What happened to Neville's parents?" Harry asked, watching his retreating figure.

Felix replied, "I'm not quite sure either; he must have been killed in the battle against the Death Eaters."

……

A week passed in the blink of an eye, and Professor Haip showed him a thick stack of forms.

"These are all the data I used to practice the Disarming Charm?" Harry asked in surprise, pointing to the thick parchment.

“No need to make a fuss. Let me tell you a secret: this is how I’ve gotten so successful in the Muggle world!” Felix joked.

Harry looked at the curve above. His progress wasn't obvious when measured in units of ten spellcasts, but when measured in units of one hundred spellcasts, his progress was almost unbelievable.

“Interesting, isn’t it? Nobody’s ever studied this before,” Felix said cheerfully.

“Professor Hyp, my Disarming Charm has reached level four?” Harry stared wide-eyed at the annotation on the parchment, which seemed to be the level of an Auror after several years of work.

“Ah, you remember its classification?” Felix said. “In a way, it does meet that requirement. You can control the power of the disarming spell more precisely, like drawing an arc or casting a spell silently…”

Harry was overjoyed, feeling as if he'd eaten ten strawberry ice creams in a row—a thoroughly exhilarating sense of satisfaction. But Professor Hyp quickly poured cold water on his enthusiasm—

"There's only one magic spell, Potter. If you want to go further in the dueling arena, you need to consider developing your own fighting style in duel."

"Fighting style?"

"For example, which spell is used as the core?"

"Disarming Charm!" Harry said without hesitation.

"...Don't make decisions lightly. In addition, there is a corresponding spell system, such as: which spells you use for defense, which spells for offense; which spells are used to restrain the opponent, and which are used to deal with difficult problems. You need to think these things through clearly."

"Not to mention combat tactics, on-the-spot judgment, and rehearsals of plans, etc."

"Of course, there's also targeted knowledge. Hmm, maybe I'm setting my expectations too high for you. This has already surpassed the level of a typical Auror."

Harry excitedly jotted it down in his notebook: "No problem, you can be as comprehensive as possible." Then, a sudden inspiration struck him, and he mimicked Hermione's tone: "Professor, actually I'd like to write a paper on this topic!"

“…Very good, I will read it.”