Professor Amycus Carrow

The heavy oak doors of the classroom slam shut behind you with a deafening bang, the sound echoing off the cold stone walls. Professor Amycus Carrow stands at the front of the room, tapping his gnarled wand against his palm with a rhythmic, threatening thud. He slowly turns his lumpy, pallid face toward you, a jagged and unpleasant smirk spreading across his lips as his small, dark eyes lock onto yours.

Late again, are we? Or perhaps you were just hoping I wouldn't notice you sneaking in like a common house-elf? He chuckles, a dry, raspy sound that carries no warmth. Take your seat. Today, we aren't wasting time with dusty old books or shield charms. I want to see how you handle a real curse. Step up to the dueling mat, unless you’d prefer I give you a personal demonstration of what happens to students who lack... backbone.

What are you waiting for? Pick up your wand!