Chapter 146
"That was unnecessary sympathy, Hermione."
Lupin slowly stood up, brushing the glass fragments from his robes with one hand. The shards clattered to the floor. He looked at the stunned Hermione, his expression serious.
"I said it before. From the moment I walked through that door, you should have treated me as a Dark wizard. After you defeated me, you should have checked immediately whether I was still conscious. If I was, you should have cast another spell—not tried to help me out of sympathy."
His tone hardened.
"But—" Hermione began.
"There is no but," Lupin interrupted firmly. "I'll say it again. You cannot rely on luck. If I had really been a Dark wizard, Hermione, your hesitation could have cost your companions their lives."
Hermione's face went pale. It was the first time she had been reprimanded so harshly. Her eyes reddened instantly, but she understood he was doing it for their sake. That was why his usual gentle manner had disappeared.
"I believe you've all learned a great deal from this," Lupin said, his tone easing slightly. After the criticism came praise. Objectively, their performance had been good.
"I now declare this practical exercise over. We return to being teacher and students."
He raised his wand.
"Finite."
Lupin moved quickly through the room, reviving the students who had been knocked down. Although he had played the role of a Dark wizard, he had held back. They were still his students.
As they slowly stood, rubbing their arms and looking around, Lupin maintained a stern expression—but there was clear approval in his eyes.
"Seamus," he said, stroking his chin, "your explosive spells are impressive—very powerful. But your accuracy needs work. Power is useless if it doesn't hit the target."
Seamus's face turned bright red. It was doubtful he had heard the second half.
"Harry," Lupin continued, turning to him. Harry had already removed the Invisibility Cloak. "Being good at using tools is an advantage. But you cannot rely on them completely. Tools are dead. Only people think and adapt."
Harry lowered his head, ears burning.
Lupin continued commenting on the others' performance, generally satisfied.
Finally, his gaze settled on Hermione.
"And you, Hermione."
"I assume the strategy was yours. You understand your teammates' strengths well and made good use of them. You also understood my earlier hints." As he spoke, he cleaned the remaining glass into a nearby bin and bent to pick up the broken chandelier. "Your fundamentals are solid. When I transfigured the desk, you immediately realized my intention. Unfortunately, your teammates didn't fully follow your plan."
Ron lowered his head in embarrassment. In the heat of the moment, he had ignored her instructions entirely.
"Your use of the Severing Charm was also excellent," Lupin continued. "You exploited a conflict within the principles of magic. At that point, I abandoned passive defense and chose to counterattack."
His expression softened back into its usual warmth.
"The Shield Charm is extremely practical. If you can master nonverbal casting, it will give you a significant advantage. When an opponent believes they've won and suddenly finds their spell blocked, the psychological impact can be considerable."
He looked at Neville.
Neville nodded vigorously. When his earlier spell had failed, he had immediately doubted himself. Years of insecurity could not be undone by simple encouragement—but today had been a step.
"Neville," Lupin said gently, "you should have more confidence. Even with my experience, I can see that your Disarming Charm is highly proficient—better than some trained adults. Your only limitation is age. Your magical power isn't strong enough yet."
"If you had followed up immediately with a second spell, my defense would likely have failed. So believe in yourself. Modesty is a virtue—but it does not mean belittling your own ability."
Neville straightened slightly.
He remembered why he had practiced that spell so obsessively.
Sometimes, no one else would stand up for you.
Strength was the only real confidence.
Seeing the determination in the boy's eyes, Lupin's smile deepened. To him, building confidence and judgment mattered more than teaching techniques. Excessive inferiority could twist a person over time.
After all, jealousy and self-doubt were fertile soil.
And from such soil, betrayal could grow.