Harry Potter's : Fantastic Beasts Guide

Life became a whirlwind of activity for David and his friends. Apart from their regular classes, most of their free time was spent in the Room of Requirement, undergoing rigorous training under Professor Flitwick's watchful eye.

After several sessions, David managed to graze Professor Flitwick's robes once or twice, and he gradually gained control over the Shield Charm as well as a few offensive spells. Hermione was also showing remarkable progress. Though not as naturally gifted in combat as David, her persistence paid off, and with David occasionally going easy on her, she was able to hold her ground.

Harry's advancement was rapid too. At first, he and Ron were evenly matched, but now Harry consistently outperformed him. As for Neville… well, every session echoed with Professor Flitwick's encouraging voice, "Well done, Mr. Longbottom!"—even though David never once saw Neville's spells land successfully. The professor sure knew how to motivate his students.

Between training and classes, the days sped by, and thoughts of the Sorcerer's Stone faded into the background. Exhausted by their daily routines, Harry and his friends fell asleep the moment they hit their beds. The training continued until a week before exams, when Hermione announced they needed time to revise. With a nod of understanding, Professor Flitwick paused their lessons.

However, this was no reprieve, as Professor Hermione swiftly took charge, dragging everyone to the library and imposing a strict study schedule. Back in her element, Hermione was radiant with confidence, meticulously guiding them through their review sessions.

Finally, after the last History of Magic exam, David sighed in relief. Emerging from the exam hall, he joined Harry and the others as they headed to the grassy expanse in front of the castle. Hermione, smiling broadly, sat on the grass and immediately began comparing answers with David.

Ron's face grew gloomier with each of Hermione's correct answers, realizing just how many mistakes he'd made. After hearing one too many, he groaned, "Hermione, the exams are over. Can't you relax for just a second?"

Hermione looked at him, shrugged, and turned to David. "So, what are your plans for the summer holiday?"

After a short conversation, David noticed Harry rubbing his forehead with a grimace. "Are you feeling okay, Harry?"

Harry frowned. "It's my scar. It's been hurting since this morning. I thought it was just exam stress, but..."

Hermione's concern was immediate. "Should we go see Madam Pomfrey?"

Harry shook his head. "No... I don't think it's that..."

Before he could finish, Professor Flitwick's voice called out from behind them, "Mr. Scamander! Could you come here for a moment?"

"Sure, Professor." David stood up and walked over.

Professor Flitwick's eyes were gleaming with excitement. "I've developed a new set of training equipment, and I need someone to test it out. Care to give it a try?"

David hesitated. "Should I call the others?"

Flitwick waved his hands dismissively. "Oh no, no need. This one's... a bit advanced. The others aren't ready for it yet." His voice lowered to a murmur, "Too weak for this stage..."

David wasn't entirely convinced but agreed nonetheless. He informed Hermione and the others before following Professor Flitwick up to the eighth floor, where they entered the Room of Requirement.

The room was transformed. Bright spotlights shone from holes in the walls, illuminating several stone statues positioned in the center. Each statue was armed with a bow and arrows, their faces cold and expressionless.

"What are these?" David asked, pointing at the statues.

"I borrowed a little help from Professor McGonagall," Flitwick explained with a mischievous smile. "Over there—put on that armor. It's for your protection."

With a wave of his wand, the armor flew towards David. He caught it mid-air and began fastening the heavy plates around his body.

"You ready? Let's begin!"

With a flick of his wand, Professor Flitwick brought the statues to life. They stretched and moved, dust falling from their ancient joints. Suddenly, the statues locked their eyes on David. Without warning, they drew their bows and released a volley of arrows.

"Dodge! Keep moving!" Professor Flitwick shouted, jumping in place with excitement.

David's instincts took over. He shifted his stance, twisting his body to avoid the arrows. Those he couldn't dodge, he deflected with his wand.

"Not bad!" Professor Flitwick called out. "But let's increase the difficulty!"

David barely had time to catch his breath before the statues fired again—this time, the arrows curved in mid-air, homing in on him. They were enchanted. David could no longer predict their paths.

His muscles screamed in protest as he ducked, twisted, and spun, narrowly avoiding the arrows. But fatigue set in, and his footwork faltered. One arrow struck his shoulder, followed by another to his side. The enchanted armor absorbed the blows, ringing out in metallic clangs.

After a dozen hits, the onslaught stopped. David collapsed on the floor, gasping for air, his body drenched in sweat.

Professor Flitwick approached with a satisfied grin. "Well done, Mr. Scamander! Not bad for the first trial."

David rolled onto his back, panting. "If I can avoid that... second stage... I'll be untouchable."

Flitwick's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Oh, don't be so sure. There are more surprises in store. This is only the beginning!"

David's stomach sank. "More...?"

"Would you like to try again?" Flitwick's tone was that of a child showing off a new toy.

David shook his head vigorously. "Nope. Not today."

A flicker of disappointment crossed Flitwick's face before he pulled a small bottle from his pocket. "Here. Drink this—it'll help you recover faster. Otherwise, you'll never be ready for the next round."

David uncorked the bottle and downed the contents in one gulp. Instantly, his face contorted with disgust. The potion was unbearably bitter.

Flitwick chuckled. "Bitterness works better. It's a well-known fact."

David's eyes narrowed. "Since when?"

"Oh, you learn these things with experience," Flitwick said, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

David's gaze remained skeptical. Was the professor just messing with him because he refused another round? He stared at Flitwick, trying to read his expression.

But Flitwick simply smiled, his eyes twinkling with innocence. "Come now, what bad intentions could I possibly have?"

David wasn't entirely convinced. Something told him this was only the beginning of Professor Flitwick's 'training program.'