Chapter 1273: Magic Spell Study Group Activity Room 3

The Iron Armor Spell and Defense Spell, Ron had already learned them in advance.

His skill level wasn’t enough to be a teacher for his peers, and he didn’t need to learn like a beginner, so he consciously picked a few younger students.

The red-haired boy cleared his throat, tried to put on an experienced look, recalling how others explained spells during the SSC, and then stutteringly repeated it.

“The spell is armor protection, come, repeat after me—armor protection!”

“Armor protection!” The younger students obediently repeated after him.

Ron frowned, vaguely feeling something was off.

Was it an emphasis issue? Or was it not that he didn’t lengthen the sound when he should?

He suddenly felt uncertain.

When practicing by himself, he knew it clearly, but when it came to teaching others, he found himself muddled.

At this moment, Ron really wanted to glance at Hermione, knowing she surely wouldn’t make a mistake.

But surrounded by younger students looking up to him, he couldn’t just walk over, pat Hermione on the shoulder, and say, “Hey, Hermione, come check if I pronounced this spell correctly?”

Of course, even without the onlookers, he wouldn’t do that.

Ron just coughed dryly, saying, “Good, but when casting the spell, pay attention to… come, repeat it with me again…”

After practicing the spell several times, Ron began teaching them to wave the magic wand:

“You see, like this… first lift your arm, like me… then down, and chant the spell when going down…”

As he talked, he felt messy, without focus, saying whatever came to mind.

Finally, waving the magic wand, ripples appeared in the air before him, forming an almost transparent barrier.

“Wow…”

The younger students gasped, then uttered exclamations in unison.

The armor lingered in the air for a few seconds silently before dispersing.

Ron’s face turned slightly red; casting the Iron Armor Spell like this was far worse than Harry and his friends.

But looking around, the small-statured younger students all showed eyes of admiration.

“Did you see?” they whispered, “There was something real!”

Ron’s mouth curved into a smile.

He quite enjoyed this moment of being a teacher.

“That’s our prefect!”

A first-year Gryffindor boy excitedly said to his Hufflepuff friend: “That security inspection envoy is also his brother! His brother Percy was also a prefect!”

Ron’s expression slightly darkened, his mouth moved as he directed everyone to practice separately, correcting from time to time:

“You’re waving the magic wand too fast!”

“Raise your wrist a bit higher!”

“Relax, buddy, it’s a defense spell, no need for such force!”

Ron moved among a few people, but his glance remained focused on Percy near the podium.

Percy held parchment, glancing up occasionally, then lowering his head to write something.

Ron couldn’t help but feel a bit worried—what was written on the paper? What was so noteworthy for a “Ministry of Magic official” to record from this activity?

“Watch out!”

Someone shouted, and by the time Ron noticed the shout was directed at him, it was too late.

A red light flew from the left, brushing past his face, and Ron let out an “ah,” a rush of warmth flowing out of his nose.

“Sorry, Mr. Weasley!” A blonde girl holding a magic wand ran to him, nervously saying: “My spell shot off… I didn’t know you were there!”

“It’s okay.” Ron covered his nose, waved a hand, and mumbled: “I’m fine, continue practicing.”

He headed to the corner—where various common magic potions for symptoms were kept—then casually glanced at Percy.

Percy wasn’t writing; he was watching Ron.

Across half the room, the brothers exchanged glances.

In those eyes so similar to his own, there wasn’t worry, nor mockery; it seemed Percy was looking at a stranger, or a boring mime performance.

Then Percy lowered his head, writing intensely on the parchment as if nothing in the world was more important.

Blood trickled down Ron’s fingers again.

“Quite a thing.”

He muttered.

…

Percy stood in the corner for twenty minutes; Frank Longbottom and Professor McGonagall both got involved, guiding students on spells.

But after observing for a while, Percy confirmed that fundamentally, it wasn’t different from what he remembered in class.

It was just that there were more people taught, with several SSC members scattered among the crowd, ready to correct actions and answer questions.

According to the activity requirements, students who mastered the spell needed to take on the responsibility of teaching others, so over time, more “teachers” appeared.

This prevented situations where students practiced alone in air, uncertain about where they went wrong.

Sometimes they’d luckily cast a spell correctly, but even after practicing ten, a hundred times afterward, success wasn’t guaranteed again.

So, indeed, this Magic Spell Study Group improves participants’ magic spell skills.

But that’s all.

Percy chuckled, closed the notebook, ready to leave.

As he walked along the emptier wall towards the door, suddenly, a ripple flashed, a faint barrier formed, and the next moment shattered apart.

A young-looking Hufflepuff girl ran past him toward her friend, shouting:

“I did it! Did you see? I just succeeded!”

“Yes, yes, you were amazing! Even my mom can’t do the Iron Armor Spell!”

Her companion seemed even happier than her, and the two girls jumped and hugged in excitement.

Percy’s gaze followed their figures, suddenly recalling when he had just entered the Auror Office, hearing those scarred Aurors derisively complaining about people from other departments—

“All idiots… Not even knowing how to cast the Iron Armor Spell, not sure how they were hired! A Loba Worm could take them all down!”

Percy’s brows furrowed slightly, suddenly understanding why Fudge was once worried.

He walked quickly to the door, seeing Vice Principal McGonagall already there.

“Vice Principal McGonagall.” Percy quickened his steps to approach, smiling: “Are you leaving too?”

“I still have papers and assignments to grade.”

Professor McGonagall replied calmly, “It’s just student activities; they’re quite experienced themselves, nothing to worry about… Mr. Weasley not planning to stay to the end?”

“I won’t continue watching; I need to draft a report for the minister tonight.” Percy smiled, “Thank you for allowing me to observe this event.”

“No need for thanks,” McGonagall said, “The Magic Spell Study Group activities are open to the public; anyone can observe, no need for permission.”

She nodded and quickly left.

Percy was a step behind, glanced back at the noisy activity room one last time, then turned and strode toward the stairs.

Shortly after, Ron, holding a handkerchief stained with nosebleed, exited the activity room, looking towards where Percy had gone.