Just a Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor

Harry and Ron ate their lunch sullenly in the Great Hall while Hermione watched them contentedly.

"This is the punishment you deserve. It's just a shouting letter. At first I thought that Professor McGonagall would fire you, and Mrs. Weasley came to bring you home."

Ron drank the pumpkin juice from the bowl without taste.

"Professor McGonagall's punishment for us hasn't come down yet, but Mum's roaring letter has already embarrassed Harry and I in the morning."

Although Harry also felt embarrassed, he was most guilty of Mrs. Weasley's letter saying that their behavior in the flying car would likely cost Mr. Weasley his job at the Ministry of Magic.

During the summer vacation, the Weasley family treated him like their own son, but they were so ignorant.

"What class are we having in the afternoon?" He put down the knife and fork that had smashed the sausage into thousands of pieces but didn't eat a bite, and took out the second grade timetable from the pocket of his robe.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts class?"

Hermione looked at the time and put down the cutlery in her hands.

"Yes, I'm a freshman in defense class today, and Professor Forrest hates people who are not on time, so we'd better hurry up and don't leave him one in the first class. bad impression."

Harry and Ron looked at each other.

"I don't think our impression of him last night was good enough," Harry said sullenly.

"My wand is broken, and I don't think it's good for me to rely on a bad wand in class!" Ron said angrily, looking at the wand in his hand that was barely glued together with Velcro .

Hermione stood up.

"Then we have to go too, let's go, there are ten minutes to go to class."

The three of them hurried to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, and it didn't take long for the second-year Gryffindor and Hufflepuffs to be there.

Sherlock entered the classroom before the bell rang.

After lunch, he went to the professor's common room to rest for a while, but he met Professor Flitwick in it. He was forced to talk about the improved application of the Feilai Mantra at noon, and he was obviously a little tired now.

But looking at the students who were already seated under the podium, he still cheered up and started to roll names.

Second-year students are basically not late, so the defense class in the afternoon started very smoothly.

"I learned from Professor McGonagall that your Defence Against the Dark Arts class last semester was mediocre."

Instead of standing on the podium, Sherlock walked back and forth between the desks of the students to keep his focus.

"Because I haven't met Professor Quirrell who taught your defense last term, I'm not qualified to rate his success, but I can be sure that you didn't accomplish the learning goals you were supposed to accomplish in your first year. ."

"Judging from your final exam results in defense last semester, most of you can only use five of the seven spells required to be mastered in the textbook "Black Magic: Self-Defense Guide", a commonly used first-year textbook."

"These five magic wand lighting spells, wand extinguishing spells, and red sparks and green sparks are all in common. If you master any of the two pairs, you can naturally learn the other."

"So, after a whole year of defensive magic study, you actually only mastered the three spells of lighting spell, spark spell and snot spell. The most practical smoke screen spell and repelling spell when encountering danger are few people. Learn, this proves that your course last semester was very shallow."

"Not to mention the theoretical knowledge of black magic creatures. I can only use one word to describe it. It's horrible."

Hearing Sherlock say this, every student in the classroom bowed their heads in shame. They all knew that their defense class was not good enough.

If there was part of Quirrell's reason, it was mostly due to their own handling of the class.

"I know it's not all to blame for you, but I said this to make it clear to you that it is because you fell behind a lot last semester, so you should be more attentive in defense class this year."

Sherlock returned to the podium, looking at the students below with a flat but oppressive gaze.

"There will be time to make up for the fallen spells in the future, and in the first Defense Against the Dark Arts class this semester, you mainly need to learn how to use what you have learned to deal with various emergencies."

"You have been studying magic at Hogwarts for a year, and now you have become a wizard who has just glimpsed the door. You have learned a lot of spells, transfiguration and other magical knowledge."

"But although the knowledge has been memorized in your brain, can you correctly use the most appropriate magic spell under the right circumstances?"

"The Defense Against the Dark Arts class will not teach you a specific type of spell, but will combine what you have learned and actually use it in actual combat, so the core of the defense class lies in actual combat!"

His voice was cold, and all the students in the classroom couldn't help but concentrate their minds, and no one dared to desert.

"The students in the first five rows pulled all their desks back to free up the space, leaving only one."

When Harry, who had been listening to Sherlock's lectures honestly below, heard this, the expression on his face couldn't help but get excited.

"Is Professor Forrest going to let us duel?" he whispered to Ron.

Ron also looked around excitedly, as if looking for his next opponent.

"It's a pity that bastard Malfoy didn't take this class with us, otherwise he would definitely take this opportunity to teach him a lesson!"

Hermione looked a little worried.

"Will it be too early, we are only in the second grade after all."

Most of the students in the classroom acted as eager as Harry and Ron, and their Defence Against the Dark Arts class last semester was really boring.

He'd been listening to Quirrell flipping through his textbooks all semester, and he didn't feel that the real purpose of the defense class was actual combat.

The tables in the first five rows were all cleared to the back, and only one was left at Sherlock's request.

However, next time he did not arrange for them to fight each other in pairs, as Harry and the others had guessed.

Instead, he tapped the only desk left with his wand.

An amazing change happened on the desk, its entire shape was being reshaped and deformed, and Sherlock's indifferent yet oppressive voice sounded in the classroom.

"Let you duel each other, I don't think it can give you enough pressure, so I arranged for you a more powerful opponent."

His voice fell, the deformation of the desk was completely completed, and a "brave" roar also roared from the mouth of the deformed creature.

"Meow~!"