It's just a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

Chapter 26 Practical Lessons

Harry and Ron were sullenly eating lunch in the auditorium, while Hermione watched them contentedly.

"This is the punishment you deserve. It's just a yelling letter. At first I thought Professor McGonagall would expel you. Mrs. Weasley came to take you home sadly."

Ron drank the pumpkin juice in the bowl dully.

"Professor McGonagall's punishment for us hasn't come down yet, but my mother's yelling letter has already made me and Harry ashamed in the morning."

Although Harry also felt embarrassed, what he felt most guilty about was the letter from Mrs. Weasley saying that their behavior in the flying car would most likely cause Mr. Weasley to lose his job at the Ministry of Magic.

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

"What class do we have this afternoon?" He put down the knife and fork in his hand that had chopped up the sausage into thousands of pieces but didn't eat a bite, and took out the second grade class schedule from his robe pocket.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts class?"

Hermione checked the time and put down the tableware in her hands.

"Yes, I heard from the first-year freshman who took the defense class today that Professor Forrest hates people who are not punctual, so we better hurry up and don't leave him one in the first class." bad impression."

Harry and Ron exchanged glances.

"I don't think we made a good impression on him last night," Harry said sullenly.

"My wand is still broken, I don't think I can rely on a bad wand to perform well in class!" Ron said angrily, looking at the wand in his hand that was barely stuck together with magic stickers .

Hermione stood up.

"Then we have to go there too, let's go, there are 10 minutes to go to class."

The three of them hurried to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, and it wasn't long before the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff second-years were all there.

Sherlock walked into the classroom before the bell rang.

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

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

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

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

Sherlock didn't stand on the podium all the time, but walked back and forth between the students' desks to keep his attention focused.

"Because I haven't met Professor Quirrell who taught your defense class last semester, so I am not qualified to evaluate whether his teaching is successful, but what I can confirm is that you did not complete the learning goals you should have completed in the first grade .”

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

"Of the five magics, the wand illuminating spell, the wand extinguishing spell, and the red spark and green spark are common. If you master any one of the two pairs, you can learn the other naturally."

"So, after studying defensive magic for a whole year, you actually only mastered three kinds of spells: the lighting spell, the spark spell, and the snot spell. The smoke screen spell and the repelling spell, which are the most practical in danger, are rare. Learn, this proves that your lessons last semester were 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 what Sherlock said, every student in the classroom lowered their heads in shame. In fact, they all knew that their defense class was not good. This class takes care of things.

"I know I can't blame you all, but I'm saying this to let you know that it's because you fell behind a lot in the last semester, so you should pay more attention to the 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 spells that have fallen. 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 who have been studying magic at Hogwarts for a year, now you can be regarded as 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 brains, can you use the most appropriate spells correctly under the right circumstances?"

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

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

"Students in the first five rows pulled back all their desks to free up the field, leaving only one desk."

Harry, who had been obediently listening to Sherlock's lecture below, couldn't help but get excited when he heard this.

"Is Professor Forrest going to make us fight?" he whispered to Ron.

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

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

Hermione looked a little worried.

"Is it too early? After all, we are only in the second grade."

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

I have been listening to Quirrell reading the textbook over and over again for the whole semester, but I don't feel that the real purpose of the defense class is actual combat.

All the tables in the first five rows were cleared to the back, leaving only one table at Sherlock's request.

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

Instead, he used his wand to lightly tap the only desk left.

Amazing changes took place on the desk, its entire shape was being reshaped and deformed, and at the same time Sherlock's indifferent but oppressive voice sounded in the classroom.

"Letting you duel with each other, I don't think it can give you enough pressure, so I arranged for you a stronger opponent."

After his words fell, the deformation of the desk was completely completed, and a "brave" roar roared from the mouth of the deformed thing.

"Meow~!"

(End of this chapter)