A Certain Magical Hogwarts

Professor Tywin stood at the front of the classroom, looking out at all the young witches and wizards before him.

"The wizarding world is undoubtedly a dangerous place," he began, "as evidenced by the reign of terror brought upon us by the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters over a decade ago."

Everyone in the room fell silent, holding their breath.

"Of course," Tywin continued, with a tone that was difficult to interpret, "the Dark Lord was defeated by Harry Potter."

There was a slight stir among the students, but Tywin quickly moved on. "Beyond the Dark Lord, we face many other threats—dark creatures, cursed beings, and magical entities. These are all things we must learn to defend ourselves against."

"For example, my predecessor—Professor Robb—met his unfortunate end tangled in Devil's Snare and harassed by a cursed Forest Boar in the Forbidden Forest."

The room was captivated by his words. Even the faint squeaking of chairs had vanished, and all eyes were on Tywin. The calmness of a classroom, after all, is the best indicator of students' engagement.

"Today, I'm going to teach you some effective spells for dealing with dark creatures," he announced. "Put your books back in your bags and follow me. You'll only need your wands."

The students exchanged curious glances before eagerly stowing their textbooks away. None of them had ever experienced a practical Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, and the anticipation was palpable—equal parts exciting and nerve-wracking.

Led by Tywin, the class walked through a quiet hallway and around a corner, where they encountered Peeves, Hogwarts' notorious prankster poltergeist, floating mid-air. 

He held what appeared to be a rubber balloon, but given its size and the liquid sloshing inside, it was anything but ordinary.

The balloon seemed indestructible, even though it was clearly overfilled with several gallons of some dubious liquid. Peeves only noticed Tywin when the professor was two meters away. His crooked legs wobbled as he let out a high-pitched, mocking song.

"Nasty Tywin, sneaky Tywin, creeping through the halls at night—lurking in the dark like a fright!"

Peeves was rude as always, but he usually gave the teachers a bit more respect. All eyes turned to Professor Tywin, curious about how he would handle the situation.

Tywin simply smiled and said, "If I were you, Peeves, I'd take that balloon filled with slop and chuck it far, far away from Hogwarts."

The students all took several steps back, not wanting to be anywhere near Peeves' disgusting bio-weapon.

"And," Tywin added cheerfully, "poor Mr. Filch would be hard-pressed to clean up such a mess, seeing as he can't use magic."

"Can't use magic?" someone whispered, and a few of the Slytherins snickered. Apparently, not everyone knew Filch was a Squib.

William even caught a few disdainful laughs from the Slytherin crowd.

Tywin withdrew his ebony wand and turned to the class. "Now, this is a very useful spell, and it just so happens to be today's lesson."

"Watch carefully."

He raised his wand to chest height and demonstrated a few key movements. After making sure everyone was paying attention, he quickly incanted, "Ah~ Pocidus!"

The four balloons exploded instantly. But rather than splattering everywhere, the foul liquid gracefully arced in the air, as if controlled by an invisible hand, and splashed all over Peeves instead.

The poltergeist shrieked and quickly fled to the ceiling, hurling insults at Tywin and his ancestors. But soon enough, some of the liquid found its way into Peeves' mouth, silencing him for good.

"Brilliant, Professor!" exclaimed Odus Lassent, clearly impressed.

"Thank you, Mr. Lassent," Tywin replied, eyeing the few drops that had hit the ground. He flicked his wand again, and with a quick "Ventus Scourgify!" the liquid and its foul smell vanished completely.

William couldn't help but notice that Tywin might have a touch of OCD. Then again, after the ordeal with Oliver Wood's rancid shoes, it was understandable.

With Peeves gone, the students continued following Tywin, their admiration for him noticeably growing.

After leading them down a few more corridors, Tywin stopped outside an empty classroom.

"Enter," he said. "This will be our training room from now on."

The room was largely empty except for a massive tank in the center. The water inside was murky, filled with thick silt and long strands of aquatic plants, making it impossible to see what was within.

Tywin walked over to the tank. Suddenly, a loud banging sound came from inside, as though something was trying to break through the glass.

"Don't worry," Tywin said calmly, noticing a few students jump back in fright. "It's just a Grindylow."

Most of the class didn't seem reassured.

Marietta Edgecombe, still recovering from her earlier accident, grabbed onto William's arm again, clearly looking for some protection.

Marcus Belby glanced fearfully at the tank, his expression filled with dread. Several of the Slytherins stole nervous glances at the water, which continued to ripple ominously.

"A Grindylow," Tywin explained, "is a dark water-dwelling creature. You'll find them in rivers, streams, and lakes. When I was a boy, I had one grab me while I was skinny-dipping in a river. Nearly dragged me under by a rather… delicate area."

A few students let out nervous chuckles.

"This particular Grindylow was caught yesterday in the Black Lake," Tywin continued. "I asked the headmaster for permission to use it in our lesson today."

"The Black Lake has these things in it?" squealed Judy Crouch, her face turning red as her freckles bunched up like a cluster of dragonfruit.

Tywin grinned. "Indeed, Miss Crouch. And I must tell you, the Grindylow is probably one of the least dangerous creatures living in the Black Lake."

A collective shiver ran through the class as they recalled their boat ride across the lake on their first day.

"I'm writing to my uncle about this!" Judy shrieked, her high-pitched voice filling the room. "It's not safe for us to live near such dangerous creatures!"

Her uncle, Barty Crouch Sr., was the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. It sounded impressive, but in reality, his influence had long since faded. 

Besides, even if he still held sway, Tywin doubted a man cold enough to throw his own son into Azkaban would care much about his niece's complaints.

But Judy's declaration was more about showing off than anything else, aimed at impressing her fellow Slytherins.

Tywin maintained his polite smile, his eyes twinkling with a look of encouragement—perhaps a habit ingrained over years of teaching.

"All right, let's not waste any more time," Tywin said, glancing at the clock. "We need to make the most of what little time we have."

"First question: What exactly is a Grindylow?"

"Mr. Stark, would you do us the honor of answering?"

William stood up straight and explained, "A Grindylow is a dark creature that hides in the weeds at the bottom of lakes and rivers. It has green skin, sharp teeth, and horns on its head. It also has very long fingers, which are one of its weaknesses."

"Excellent answer, Mr. Stark! I couldn't have put it better myself. Five points to Ravenclaw!" Tywin said with a beaming smile.

Within the span of a single lesson, Ravenclaw had already earned ten points. 

It was starting to feel like the tides were turning in their favor. 

All these years only Snape had shown such blatant favouritism toward Slytherin, his own house, maybe it was finally Ravenclaw's time to shine.

join my patreon for 30+ advanced chapters: patreon.com/HyppoTL