0345 The Class

In the early hours before dawn, when the sky was still cloaked in the inky darkness of night, the distant horizon where the earth met the sky was tinged with only a faint, ethereal greenish glow. The gentle breeze that drifted lazily across the glassy surface of the Black Lake and undulated through the verdant grass was not fierce or biting, but it carried with it a subtle chill that sent a shiver gushing down Harry's neck, raising goosebumps all over his arms.

Harry stamped his slightly numb feet, desperately trying to reignite the warmth that had seeped from them during the chilly pre-dawn hours. Turning to glance at Hermione, he noticed that her eyelashes were glistening with tiny, dewy droplets. Harry subconsciously reached up and ran his fingers through his own hair, confirming that it too was damp with the same morning dew that had settled upon them like a fine mist.

At the Quidditch Pitch, nestled beneath the towering Quidditch poles piercing the darkness, as a diverse assembly of around a hundred young witches and wizards huddled together, their bodies trembling as the cold wind whipped around them. Among this shivering mass were all the third and fourth-year students from the four houses, as well as twenty to thirty upper years above fifth year and a handful of second years.

As Harry studied the hunched, diversely dressed students, each draped in an array of mismatched Muggle attire that stood in stark contrast to their usual wizarding robes, a sudden, unexpected urge to laugh welled up within him. The sight of so many young magical folk dressed in such ordinary, everyday casual clothing was an uncommon sight indeed, and one that struck him as deeply amusing, despite the early hour and the bone-chilling cold.

It had been only a few days since Professor Watson had first announced this new class and confirmed the roster, but yesterday, a second-year Ravenclaw girl had been posting a new notice – one that required all the young witches and wizards to arrive at the grounds before six o'clock in the morning on Monday, dressed in outfits suitable for exercise.

Typically, apart from Saturdays and Sundays, the young students of Hogwarts were required to don their wizarding robe-like school uniforms during normal class times. Seeing over a hundred of their number clad in casual everyday clothes at the school was quite an uncommon sight for the viewers.

The faint light on the horizon provided little in the way of warmth, and the young witches and wizards shivered in the cold wind, with hardly anyone in the mood for conversation – Harry included.

Percy's girlfriend was huddled asleep in his arms, her head nestled against his chest as she sought refuge from the chill. Ginny leaned heavily against Hermione's shoulder, stifling yawns as exhaustion threatened to overwhelm her. Ron had simply plopped down cross-legged on the dewy grass, his soft snores joining the whisper of the wind as he succumbed to slumber.

Most of the surrounding students were in a similar state of fuzzy-eyed fatigue, with drooping eyelids and slouched postures revealing their weariness. Harry was certain that if Professor Watson's new 'physical education' class demanded they wake up this early on a regular basis, the prank products Fred and George were developing for skipping class would surely come in handy and find an eager market among the sleep-deprived masses.

After another ten minutes had passed, roughly seventy to eighty percent of the students were sprawled across the ground, as they lay prone upon the soft grass. Most of the remaining few swayed unsteadily on their feet, their eyes blank and unfocused as they struggled to remain upright. Only the second-year Ravenclaw girl who had helped Professor Watson post the notice yesterday remained stoically staring at the fog-shrouded Black Lake, her posture straight and unwavering.

Harry noticed that this young witch seemed to be wearing some sort of necklace, likely metallic judging by how it glinted faintly in the weak dawn light that had begun to creep across the grounds. With nothing better to occupy his wandering mind, Harry blankly stared at her neck, trying to make out the shape or form of whatever it was that was reflecting the light and catching his eye.

However, the Ravenclaw girl suddenly turned around, her silvery eyes – the brightest and most vibrant thing in the dimly lit sky.

"Oh, sorry--" Harry immediately realized his rudeness and hurriedly apologized to her, but the sound from behind made him understand that he had misinterpreted the situation – this young witch was not looking at him.

"I did warn you all--" A familiar, teasing voice carried over on the breeze, causing the drowsy students to jolt upright one by one as if awakened from a trance.

"To get some rest early. My class won't give you a chance to doze off--" It was Professor Watson, his warm, cheerful tones unmistakable even in the pre-dawn haze. Like the students, he had shed his wizarding attire, donning instead a crisp Muggle-style athletic tracksuit. And as usual, he appeared lively and energetic, seemingly unaffected by the early rise that had sapped the vitality from his young students.

Not a single student responded to Professor Watson's jesting remark. They listlessly hung their heads, their bodies sagging, with the possible exception of Fred and George, who were accustomed to spending most of the night wandering the corridors and then rising early for class.

"What do we need to do, Professor?" Fred asked eagerly, staring at Professor Watson, who stood tall and straight, his posture radiating confidence and authority.

"Like Muggles, toss metal balls through the Quidditch hoops? Do we need our broomsticks?"

"Muggles don't have such a sport, Fred," Bryan chuckled, the warm rumble of his laughter cutting through the chill morning air. He then clapped his hands together, raising his voice to carry across the pitch as he announced loudly, "For now, the first thing I need you all to do is perk up and gather around me!"

When Professor Watson taught Defense Against the Dark Arts, no young wizard dared to neglect his instructions. But this time, it took a while for the young wizards to sluggishly gather around him, their bodies moving as if weighted down by invisible burdens, their feet dragging across the dewy grass.

Seeing their tired and young faces, etched with the lines of exhaustion and weariness, Bryan smiled inwardly. He didn't scold them either. These young ones would need some time to adjust.

When Professor Watson began speaking, Hermione immediately forced herself to focus, shaking off the fatigue that threatened to cloud her mind. She was the only student who had brought a notebook, clearly intent on taking meticulous notes as was her custom, but Professor Watson stopped her this time with a gentle wave of his hand.

"No need to take notes, Miss Granger. Just listen,"

Glancing at the newly risen sun peeking over the horizon, its radiant rays fanning out in a cross shape that painted the sky in vibrant hues of orange and pink, Bryan raised his voice and said,

"Perhaps you are all curious why I have introduced a Muggle-style physical education class at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and what exactly I will be teaching you in this class."

This had indeed been the subject of great interest and fervent speculation ever since Professor Watson had first announced the new class. The young wizards gradually regained their focus, pushing aside their weariness as they listened attentively to his words.

"But allow me to apologize, as I will not be answering those two questions today."

Bryan's words were met with a chorus of disappointed sighs drifting across the chilly Quidditch pitch. Hermione immediately raised her hand, her posture rigid with the familiar intensity she exhibited whenever she sensed an opportunity to expand her knowledge. With the professor's permission, she asked furrowing her brows in confusion.

"But shouldn't we at least know what we're supposed to be learning? I mean, otherwise, how else are we going to be able to adequately prepare and complete any homework or assignments?"

"There will be no homework or assignments for the time being, Miss Granger," Bryan said with a smile, his expression one of gentle reassurance.

Unlike the other classes except Quidditch at Hogwarts, where homework and assignments were as common as the ancient stone walls that surrounded them, Professor Watson's declaration that there would be no such things in this new 'physical education' class was met with a reaction that defied expectations. Rather than eliciting cheers of joy from the weary students, his statement instead seemed to confuse them even more, their expressions ranging from bewilderment to outright skepticism.

"First, you need to understand," Bryan continued once the murmurs of uncertainty had subsided, "that this new 'physical education' class will not take up your regular class time for now. In fact, during the initial phase, it will only require your presence here before six o'clock every morning."

"Every day?!" Ron cried out in despair, his voice cracking with a mixture of disbelief at the prospect of such a grueling schedule. "Even Saturdays and Sundays?!"

"Six o'clock?" As Ron's outcry faded into the morning air, Hermione's roommate, Lavender Brown of Gryffindor, wailed in distress, her voice thick with concern that bordered on melodramatic. "But only proper sleep can ensure glowing skin and a radiant complexion!"

"If preserving your skin's radiance matters more than your desire for self-improvement, Miss Lavender Brown," Professor Watson's smile faded as an indescribable seriousness emanated from his easy-going expression, weighing heavily upon the young witches and wizards like a palpable force, "then by all means, return to your warm four-poster bed and continue your slumber."

Looking at the young wizards who had fallen silent, Bryan sighed and softened his tone,

"My words were not meant to scare you. In fact, you are allowed to withdraw from this physical education class, but the deadline is only one month. Within that month, if anyone feels this class is meaningless, you don't need to inform me – you may leave at any time, no questions asked. However, after one month, those of you who choose to remain must persevere until the end of this course."

Hermione furrowed her brow once more, her eyes narrowing slightly as she speculated silently on Professor Watson's intentions and the deeper meaning behind his carefully chosen words. Harry, glancing towards Malfoy, saw a determined look etched upon his pale features, without a trace of the doubt or hesitation that lingered in the eyes of many others. Seeing his rival's apparent resolve, Harry also let go of his own uneasiness and quietly waited for Professor Watson's instructions.

Ron opened his mouth as if to speak, perhaps to voice his objections, but then thought better of it after noticing the resolve in Harry and Hermione's silence. Even his younger sister Ginny had clenched her fists, her jaw set in a determined line as she appeared eager to tackle the challenge head-on, without reservation or fear. So, wisely, he closed his mouth, swallowing his protests for the time being as he too turned his attention to the professor.

Not a single young wizard chose to withdraw and depart in that moment, a decision which did not surprise Bryan in the slightest. The lure of the unknown, the tantalizing promise of expanding their magical abilities, was simply too strong for them. However, how many would remain after that one-month mark was thrust upon them remained to be seen, a question to which even Bryan himself did not know the answer.

"Very well, then--" Bryan gestured broadly with one hand, sweeping it across the expanse of the grassy field that stretched out beneath their feet like a verdant carpet. "The first thing we need to do, and it must be done continuously for the entire month without interruption or exception, is to run twenty laps around the Quidditch pitch every morning."

A collective gasp rippled through the assembled students, their eyes widening in a mixture of disbelief and anxiety. Twenty laps around the pitch may not have seemed an impossible feat on its own, but coupled with the ungodly hour and the bone-chilling cold that still lingered in the air, it took on an entirely new level of challenge.

Looking at the astonished young wizards, Bryan smiled and said,

"What are you all waiting for? Ladies and gentlemen, Start running!"

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