 Bathes in Maple Syrup | Dancing Lobster | Moy Pomidor | Seneca's Beard | That Is So Fetch!
Beauden's eyes widened in excitement as he heard the topic of the lesson: Erklings. He straightened up, clearly thrilled at the prospect of learning more about these dangerous creatures. He'd heard stories about Erklings, of course—vaguely, and mostly as cautionary taless meant to keep them from wandering too far into the woods, especially at night.
But in those stories, the creatures felt like distant, shadowy figures. Today, though, the idea of encountering one face-to-face was thrillingly real.
The Gryffindor's hand shot up, and he leaned forward eagerly. "Professor, I remember reading about an Erkling attack in Fantastic Beasts"—one of the few books he had ever willingly opened and read—"and, apparently, some little kid managed to stop one with just a whack to the head using a collapsible cauldron." His eyes sparkled with both humour and admiration for the kid's quick thinking. "So... anything involving blunt force might work."
He grinned, imagining the chaotic scene. The image was equal parts nerve-wracking and absurd. Keeping that in mind, he mulled over the types of spells that would have a similar effect without the need to get that close. "For spells," he continued, "Expulso could blast them backward into a wall. And Stupefy could stun it, right?"
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