At first glance, it looked like a standard spell-casting target, but Alex's version had several key improvements. The most noticeable addition was a numeric display on its chest, designed to measure the power of spells. But it wasn't just about strength. Alex had added enchantments to measure heat, structural damage, and magical depletion. The system then combined these factors to generate an overall score, which he had carefully calibrated over time. For example, a standard offensive spell should register at least 15 points, while a Banishing Charm, which Mona had asked about recently, required at least 30 points to be considered properly cast.
This feature allowed him to accurately gauge how well students had mastered their spells. Some spells felt effective but lacked real power, while others had hidden strengths that weren't obvious without precise measurement. But that wasn't all. The mannequin's head was a detachable ball made of a material designed for easy transfiguration. It had an Anti-Transfiguration Charm with adjustable difficulty settings. At its lowest setting, even a beginner could reshape it with ease. But as the difficulty increased, the charm would resist transformation, making it progressively harder to alter. At its highest setting, even Alex had to focus intensely to succeed.
Beyond spell impact and transfiguration training, the target could also generate protective spells like Protego, cast an Obscuro Charm for illusion-based testing, and simulate armor-breaking effects. And for advanced students? Alex had a special surprise.
If activated, a hidden, battered wand—one he had picked up from the black market—would emerge from the target's chest and cast a Disarming Charm straight ahead. This allowed students to practice defensive spells like Protego under realistic conditions. The entire device was built for durability. It could take a beating, absorb magical energy to recharge itself, and even self-repair minor damage. Essentially, it was a fully functional spell-training dummy designed for both beginners and experienced duelists.
So far, Alex had only built one prototype. He planned to test it in a few days with his fellow Slytherins to see how well it worked. If it performed as expected, he would refine the design and build more. And if it turned out to be truly effective? He was already considering mass production. Hogwarts students weren't the only ones who needed spell-training dummies—Aurors in the Ministry of Magic might be interested in them as well.
Alex nodded to himself, a new idea forming in his mind. These little wizards were the perfect test subjects—what a waste it would be not to use them. As he let his mind wander, imagining the possibilities, the Slytherin students had already begun adapting to the strict routines he had set for them.
After the shock of yesterday's events, they were visibly more cautious in their daily actions. Meals were eaten in near silence, conversations were kept to hushed whispers, and even the way they walked had changed. If more than two students happened to be walking together, they would instinctively adjust their positions, almost like trained soldiers.
The discipline extended beyond behavior. Their shoes gleamed from daily polishing, and their robes were impeccably pressed with smoothing charms, free of even the slightest wrinkle—no one wanted to be caught looking sloppy under the watchful eyes of their new prefect.
Even more bizarre was their sudden shift in etiquette. They now greeted everyone, including Filch, whom they had previously avoided like the plague. The grumpy caretaker, known for glaring at students as if they were personally responsible for every mess in the castle, now found himself awkwardly nodding back at polite, well-mannered Slytherins. But the person most bewildered by this transformation was none other than Snape himself.
Snape had been preoccupied with business outside of Hogwarts and had only been able to return during school hours. But when he did return, he felt like he had stepped into an entirely different school. As soon as he entered the corridors, he was met with rows of Slytherins greeting him one after another in a serious, almost military fashion.
Normally, Slytherin students avoided him as much as possible—either offering a timid hello before scurrying away or pretending they hadn't seen him at all. Some of the more reckless ones even tried to slip away before he could fix them with one of his piercing stares. But now? They were lining up to greet him. Snape frowned. Something was definitely off.
Later that night, when Snape finally had time to inspect the Slytherin common room, he was met with an even stranger sight. The cozy but dark dungeon common room had changed. The usual clutter—the occasional forgotten scarf, the loose parchment on tables, the relaxed, sprawling postures of students lounging in armchairs—was gone.
Even the image depicting famous Slytherin adventures had been removed from the walls. In their place hung rows of banners, gleaming silver against green backgrounds, each bearing bold, intimidating phrases:
"There is no good and evil, there is only power and those too weak to seek it."
"It matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be."
Snape stood in the doorway, staring at them, feeling vaguely intruded upon in his own house. His gaze dropped to the students, expecting to see them whispering in corners or playing wizard chess like usual. Instead, the long table in the middle of the room was packed with students sitting in unnervingly neat rows, quietly working through assignments. Some scribbled notes with intense focus, others flipped through textbooks, and a few were asking upper-year students for help, their questions kept at a respectful, hushed volume. The only sounds in the room were the soft scratching of quills against parchment, the rustling of turning pages, and the occasional low murmur of discussion.
For a moment, Snape didn't dare speak. The atmosphere was too disciplined, too focused. It was as if he had just walked into a highly structured study hall rather than the Slytherin common room. Then, as he looked around, he realized something else. He was completely unnecessary here. No one had noticed his arrival. No one had jumped in fear, no one had scrambled to hide a contraband item, no one was whispering behind their hands, worried about whether the Head of House would overhear their complaints.
It was as if Snape, the infamous Slytherin head and feared Potions Master, was simply irrelevant in this new order. With a faint scowl, he curled his lip and silently turned on his heel, leaving without a word. Even he wasn't sure if he wanted to disturb whatever was happening in his own house.
Since that fateful night of punishment, the Slytherin students had become remarkably disciplined. Whether they actually agreed with Alex's new rules or were just terrified of the consequences, their behavior had certainly changed for the better. Even Fang, who spent most of his time monitoring the magic surveillance system, could only catch two or three rule-breakers each day now. And for once, Alex didn't feel the need to hold late-night punishments.
The study group he had set up ran smoothly, thanks to the department representatives. Every night at 9:10 p.m., study sessions were divided by year groups. Alex personally tutored the fifth years, Two senior students supervised the first through third years, nother pair oversaw the fourth and sixth years. By the third night, the Defense Against the Dark Arts study group, personally led by Alex, officially began. And tonight was different from before.