G. Lippert - James Potter and the Curse of the Gatekeeper

"This is finally getting good," Trenton Bloch muttered, fingering his wand.

As the first spells began to fire, Debellows dodged them with amazing, almost effortless ease. He barely seemed to be watching the line of students. He simply glanced once as each person in the line raised their wand, then he'd turn, lunge, duck, or even pirouette, allowing the spell to flit past him harmlessly, usually missing him by mere inches. James had to admit that it was a rather amazing display, but he was determined that his spell would strike its mark. He decided he would aim directly for Debellows' feet since they, at least, were usually attached to the floor. When his turn came, James raised his wand, aimed fleetingly for Debellows chest, and then, as quickly as he could, pointed downwards and fired. Even as the spell shot from his wand, Debellows was in the air, turning lightly. James' Stunning Spell snuffed itself out on Debellows' shadow. A moment later, the big man came down on his hands and the tips of his toes, as if he was doing a push-up. With a heave and a grunt, he flung himself upright again, landing easily on his feet. Deftly, he caught his own wand, which he had lobbed upwards during his leap.

"Bluh-dee hell!" Graham Warton cried. Amazed applause rippled over the students.

Kendra Corner raised her hand. "How long before we can do that?"

"Patience, students," Debellows called, chuckling and mopping his brow with a towel. "Artis Decerto is a lifetime study. It is much more than a physical art; it is a mental discipline. It incorporates the skills of levitation, divination, and even Apparition, allowing the wizard to know when and where his opponent is going to strike and not to be there when it happens. Only the clumsiest wizard relies solely on the strength of his spells. The ablest wizard knows that if he plays the game well, he need not use spells at all."

James decided that, as unlikable as Debellows was, Artis Decerto was a technique well worth learning. He devoted himself to the practice drills and mental exercises Debellows prescribed even though they seemed hopelessly difficult and abstract.

"Know your opponent better than he knows himself," Debellows commanded. "It need not take years of study; most wizards know very little of themselves. Gauge them in an instant. Take their measure. If you succeed in this, you will always have the upper hand, for you will know what they are going to do before they do themselves. You will already be preparing your defence, and eventually, your counter-attack."

"When do we get to that part?" Trenton said, lowering his wand in frustration. "I'm sick of trying to read the other bloke's mind. I want to magic something."

"In time, Mr. er, young man," Debellows replied, waving a hand. "First, you must understand the logistics of battle. No action should be taken unless you have already foreseen the outcome. Planning and deliberation are key! Magic is but one of the choices available to the cunning wizard. At every stage of the battle, there are three options a warrior may choose. The first choice is to curse his opponent."

Kevin Murdock pointed his wand at his drill partner and mimed a Killing Curse. "Kapow! You're dead! That's what we've been waiting for," he said cheerfully.

"A wholesale and clumsy response, my friend," Debellows said. "Perhaps you'd like to try that technique on me?"

Murdock's face reddened as he remembered the way Debellows had dodged the myriad spells. He shook his head quickly, lowering his wand.

Debellows nodded once. "Good choice, boy. You have just illustrated the second option a wizard may choose in battle: to wait and watch for his opponent to make the next move. The cunning warrior will be able to exploit his opponent's action and use it against him. If any of you ever see battle, you will likely find yourselves facing an untrained and undisciplined enemy: an enemy who believes that either bravery, power, or enthusiasm will be enough to see him to victory. Get the measure of this enemy, wait for him to make his move, and know it the moment he does. If you succeed in those things, then the battle is already in your hands."

Trenton Bloch rolled his eyes, obviously unsatisfied. "What's the third option, then?"

"The third option, my friends," Debellows said, raising his eyebrows, "is to turn around and walk away."

"The third option is to retreat?" Morgan Patonia asked, frowning.

Debellows shook his head, smiling grimly. "Not at all. A true warrior never retreats. But a true warrior does know when a battle is not worth fighting. This might be because the enemy is too great, or because the enemy is too weak. Either way, there is no valor in such a battle. The sign of a true warrior, students, is knowing when not to fight."

"Inspiring stuff," Trenton muttered, unimpressed. James glanced at him, then back at Debellows. He understood Trenton's annoyance, and yet, after the duel against Salazar Slytherin in the distant past, James realized he wasn't quite as quick to dismiss Debellows' methods as he had been before.

As spring began to descend on the school grounds, Neville Longbottom started taking his Herbology classes on wandering field trips, teaching them how to identify certain magical plants and trees in the wild. The class slogged reluctantly behind as he led them along the perimeter of the Forbidden Forest and into the marshy shores of the lake.

"Many magical plants have adapted to Muggle environments by disguising themselves as something rather more innocuous," Neville called happily, kneeling by the edge of the lake. "For instance, this breed of spynuswort has acclimated to life in Muggle areas by disguising itself as stinging nettles, thus assuring no Muggles will attempt to pull it up or harvest it. You can tell the difference by the slight purple hue on the bottom of the leaf. Once the plant is pulled up, however," Neville gripped the stem and gently tugged it, drawing the root out of the wet earth, "you can see the characteristic taproot of the spynuswort plant, useful for any number of potions and elixirs."

"I'm not seeing the taproot," Ashley Doone said, examining the uprooted plant in her own hands. "Just a big root ball."

Neville looked up. "Er, that's because that particular plant, Miss Doone, is not so much spynuswort disguised as stinging nettles as it is stinging nettles disguised as, er, itself."

"Yah!" Ashley cried, dropping the plant and brushing her hands violently on her robes.

"To the hospital wing," Neville announced, sighing. "Madam Curio has a salve for repelling the stings, but you'd best hurry or you'll be smarting for hours."

Ralph and James watched Ashley bolt off toward the castle, her robes flying.

Ralph said to James, "Are we all set for Defence Club tonight?"

"I guess," James answered. "I've barely seen Scorpius since the holiday. Frankly, I think he's running out of things to teach us."

"You think so? I've learned loads of useful spells from him. That grandfather of his really must have known his stuff."

"Yeah, well, that grandfather of his was one of the worst people my dad ever knew," James replied. "Lucius Malfoy was a Death Eater. He's one of the few who never recanted either, even though old Voldy's long since dead. He's in hiding now, probably still waiting for the rise of the pureblood empire. He knew plenty of dark magic, including all three Unforgivable Curses."

Ralph shrugged. "Well, wherever Scorpius learned it from, I'm glad he did. Considering what's going on with Merlin and this Gatekeeper thing, I'm glad to learn as many curses and hexes as I can."

"I don't know," James said, lowering his voice. "I'm starting to wonder if we're going about this all wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," James said, sighing, "what if Debellows is right about what makes a great magical fighter? What if we're spending too much time just learning curses and hexes and Disarming Spells? Maybe we should start practicing some of those Artis Decerto techniques he's been showing us."