Just a Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor

The magnificent manor seemed particularly gloomy at this time.

In the swaddle of the single sofa, something neither human nor ghost was staring coldly at the group of trembling men in black robes kneeling on the ground.

"I don't expect everyone to remain absolutely loyal to me." A calm but bitingly cold voice sounded, "But I hate waste!"

"Little Barty is dead, so who can do that for me now? My friends, who among you can make me trust you in your ability to complete this task?"

The big snake, as thick as a bucket, was coiled beside the sofa chair, staring at its cold vertical eyes, looking around indifferently at everything around it.

Kneeling on the hard floor, none of the wizards with noble births and pure blood dared to raise their heads. Everyone lowered their heads, wishing they could bury their faces in the ground.

"Wormtail? Lucius? Evan? Cobain? Amycus? Alecto?"

He coldly called out one name after another, but everyone whose name was called trembled, and no one dared to look directly at the frightening existence.

The thing on the sofa chair seemed to be tired of this, and he fell silent. The room was silent, and everyone held their breath for fear of disturbing his contemplation.

"Other than those imprisoned in Azkaban, whose loyalty and abilities can reassure me?"

He didn't ask anyone in the room this question, because he quickly answered it to himself.

"Little Barty can do it, but you losers didn't bring him back alive. Ah, there is Regulus, but he is also dead..."

"Gageson!"

He suddenly called out a name.

Among the people kneeling on the ground, a trembling man in black robe stood up. There was no mask on his face. He was a thin wizard with glasses and blond hair.

"Lord, master." Gagson responded in a trembling voice.

"I know you are useless, but if you can't even bring back that old guy Barty Crouch, then what's the point of living for you."

Gagson breathed a sigh of relief at first, then his heart tightened again, and then he assured loudly without hesitation.

"If I can't bring back old Barty, I'm willing to become Nagini's food without you taking action, Master!"

The cold voice ignored Gagson's life and death gesture and continued to shout another person's name.

"Wormtail."

The wizard, who was pale and squat like a big fat mouse, crawled to the sofa on his knees.

The voice suddenly became quiet and he said calmly.

"Go to northern Scandinavia and tell that guy I can give him another chance."

Peter's originally tense body suddenly relaxed, and he praised in that disgusting tone.

"He will surely fall at your merciful feet and cry and admit his mistake, my great master."

The voice did not respond to his words, but looked at the people still kneeling on the ground and said coldly.

"I hope from now on, no one will let me down again!"

...

On September 1st, the Forrest family.

Sherlock had nothing to pack. All his office belongings were left at Hogwarts and he did not bring them back. He only had to carry a suitcase with some changes of robes in it.

Hilke is in the kitchen making breakfast.

After unremitting efforts during the rest of the summer vacation, she finally learned to make her first meal - omelette - a week before the start of school.

From that day on, Sherlock's every breakfast consisted of a glass of warm milk, an omelette that was slightly burnt and looked a little bad but not too mushy, and two slices of toast made with a toaster.

The taste is not bad and the nutrition is very balanced, but if you eat it for a week, it will be unacceptable.

During this period, Sherlock hinted several times that he could go into the kitchen and prepare a more substantial breakfast, such as cooking a bowl of meat porridge or frying a ham to make a sandwich.

But Hilke seems to have a deep obsession with the kitchen. After he can make food that is edible, he is firmly not allowed to enter the kitchen again.

Fortunately, this was the last meal this morning anyway. Sherlock didn't get too entangled and waited for Hilke, who was wearing an apron and showing some housewife demeanor, to bring the milk omelette and bread.

Sherlock picked up the knife and fork and spread jam on the toast. He had not forgotten Hilke's work preparations.

"I'm going back to Hogwarts today. When are you going to go to work?"

The corners of Silk's mouth turned up in an arc that was imperceptible.

"I'm leaving today too."

Sherlock didn't hear any question, he just said something in surprise.

"What a coincidence. Then will you live where you work or go back home?"

“A place to work provides a place to live.”

Speaking of this, Sherlock couldn't help but start nagging again.

"Although you are now a big girl and have lived alone for a long enough time, you still have to be careful when living alone in the future. Try not to eat what you cook. I am in good health and I can eat just two bites. But you may not be able to eat too much. Hold on. And try to be friendly when getting along with your colleagues. Of course, the premise is that we can't be bullied by others. If you have anything, just write to me. I basically stay at Hogwarts and won't go anywhere. ....."

From the moment Sherlock started nagging, Silk's beautiful eyebrows wrinkled unconsciously, but he didn't say much, and silently cut up the food that could be eaten without cutting it with a table knife. Fried eggs.

Of course Sherlock also knew that Hilke didn't like to hear him nagging so much, but as an "elder" it was right to speak more. In his mind, although Hilke and Amy were different, they were both the kind of people who couldn't help but A troublesome problem child.

After chatting for more than ten minutes, they also finished their breakfast.

Sherlock put on the wizard's robe, picked up his suitcase, said goodbye to Hilke, and left home using Apparition.

After he left, Hilke propped his chin on the dining table and stared at the ordinary Muggle photo hanging on the wall in a daze.

In the photo, the two young and old showed different smiles respectively. This combination looks quite funny.

A gentle smile appeared on her face, and then she stood up and put away the plates and knives and forks on the dining table. She was obviously in a good mood, and she even hummed a tune she heard somewhere.

After finishing all the housework and cleaning up, Hilke walked into his room and took out the teaching tools that Sherlock had not discovered all summer.

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