This Hogwarts is not normal

Thursday.

Snape was up early as usual.

Except for the day when Quidditch was tortured by blood, he was in a good mood every day.

Especially after persuading Dumbledore yesterday to serve as a substitute professor for the Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

Today he has two classes, teaching first grade in the morning and sixth grade in the afternoon.

There will be potions for the first grade tomorrow, and Defense Against the Dark Arts for the second and third grades in the afternoon.

Snape wasn't dissatisfied with such a full work schedule.

He put on a loose black robe, thought for a while and changed into a tighter one.

Leaps high and is very comfortable.

Turn around and swing sideways, no discomfort.

In the mirror, the corners of his mouth were slightly raised, completely gone from the coldness before.

He tidied up his hair carefully, and when he went out, he felt low again.

"Crack——" the door of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom on the fourth floor was pulled open from the outside.

"It's Snape!" Seamus yelled strangely, his mind in a daze.

"Finigan, you don't welcome me?"

"No, professor!"

Snape walked into the classroom with a sneer.

"Very well, none of them are late."

He glanced at Harry. "Potter, what would you do if you were bitten by a werewolf?"

"Eh—" Harry was dumbfounded by the question.

"Should we use fresh rice?"

"Ah—yes."

Snape stepped forward quickly, "Wrong!

Baixian can only heal wounds, but it can't prevent you from being assimilated into a werewolf! "

"Oh." Harry nodded his head aggrievedly, "Then what should I do?"

"Cut off your bitten part in time." Snape's sneer dropped to freezing point.

"What if you meet a dark wizard?"

Harry knew there was a second question.

"Iron Armor Curse!"

"Mortal wisdom--"

"Then what spell should I use?"

"Disarming Curse."

Snape shook his head disdainfully, "Without a wand, a dark wizard cannot use even powerful black magic."

He paced up to Vincent, "Heh, to some extent Wayne is doing quite well."

"Professor, are you praising me?"

"I didn't ask you to answer." Snape turned and walked back.

"One last question, Potter!"

With his hands on Harry's desk, he bent down to look into the large eyes beneath them.

"If you are facing the Killing Curse, what should you do?"

Hermione couldn't help but say, "Professor, the pair—"

"Shut up, Granger!" Snape yelled, then continued to stare at the trembling Harry.

The wizarding world knows that the Potters were killed by Voldemort's Killing Curse, which he bounced back and became the Boy Who Lived.

The savior sounds great, but few people know the bitterness inside.

"I—I—" Harry clenched his fists tightly.

"What are you supposed to do, Potter!"

Snape looked straight into his eyes, as if they were piercing into the soul.

"I—" Harry puffed out his chest and stopped trembling, "I will face it like Vincent, and chop it in half!"

"Wrong!" Snape leaned back, "You should run far away, don't overestimate your capabilities!"

Vincent raised his hand to say something.

All you need to break the Killing Curse is a Gryffindor sword, and Harry who has learned to fight for a few years may not be able to be like him.

"Put it down, Wayne!" Snape glared viciously.

Vincent stared back unflinchingly.

He knew that this class would not be easy.

In the first Potions class, the man asked three questions on purpose.

The flower language of narcissus is love, and the flower language of wormwood is pain, which together express painful love.

Bezoar is an antidote, expressing how to relieve this pain.

The flower language of Wolfbane flower is to live for love, and the flower language of boat-shaped aconitum flower is malice, if you contact the above again...

The romance of a top student?

Snape, staring dry-eyed, blinked.

Vincent immediately raised his proud little chin.

"Okay, good." Snape walked up to the podium.

"In my class, you don't need to bring textbooks, you just need to bring your brains."

He glanced at Neville and Seamus, "The person whose name I called comes up, and cast the Disarming Curse on each other—Malfoy!"

Draco walked up in a big way.

"Wayne!"

Vincent blinked, then looked over with a smirk.

"Professor, I—"

"Shut up." Snape flicked his wand, throwing the entire podium to the corner of the classroom.

He stood below and stared steadily at the two little wizards on the stage.

"Come on!" Draco gritted his teeth and pulled out his wand.

"Shouldn't you shake hands first?" Vincent held out his right hand.

"Humph!"

Draco was about to slap the hand away, but he took it back naturally.

"Professor, can we start?"

Snape glanced over coldly, "I count to three."

The two turned their backs at the same time.

"one."

Vincent took a step forward.

"two."

He reached for his wand in his school robe with his left hand.

"three."

"Except your weapons!"

Draco turned around quickly, and was hit in the chest by a curse head-on.

He slid out backwards.

Vincent tilted his head to avoid the wand that was thrown over him, "Professor, Malfoy has a serious cleanliness."

"Get up!" Snape let his wand drop to the ground.

Draco stood up, picking it up with resentful eyes.

Once upon a time, he offended his own headmaster just because he couldn't control his mouth.

But he was in a hurry, and he would not say a certain forbidden word even if he was beaten to death.

"Again."

Snape's words stopped the two who were going down.

"This time, Wayne is not allowed to use his wand."

Vincent looked at him suspiciously.

Physical disarm spell?

A smile spread across Draco's face for an instant.

"I said I was playing against." Ron leaned towards Harry in a low voice, "Vincent doesn't use a wand, and Malfoy will only lose worse."

Hermione next to him also looked at Snape suspiciously.

It's not that this person doesn't know the level of the two sides, and the result will not change if they do it again.

"one."

Vincent stood still this time.

"two."

Draco had already taken several steps.

"three."

The two turned around at the same time.

"Hoo--" Vincent tilted his head to avoid the disarming spell, and rushed over with both feet.

The cubs know the outcome.

Some little snakes also know.

And Draco, who recited the spell again, seemed to vaguely know the result.

Before the second spell was cast, Vincent had already held down his right wrist holding the wand.

The Disarming Curse brushed the ash-blonde hair and hit the ceiling.

"Wayne, you—"

"you lose."

Draco lost his center of gravity, and the scene in his eyes was chaotic.

He fell to the ground, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Right now, he only has one thought, and that is why the disarming spell that was cast just now leaves no trace.

"Back to you."

Vincent put his wand down without even looking at him.

"Next group, Potter—"

Snape aimed at his students, "Goyle!"

Hermione suddenly understood.

The substitute professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts knew the benefits of Muggle fighting, so he deliberately asked Vincent and Dracoby to fight twice.

With a wand, the body reacts faster, and without a wand, physical disarming can be achieved.

The gloomy looking old bat is really thinking about the students?

However, Vincent, who knew all the facts, didn't think so.

He was more likely to believe that Snape was trying to embarrass Draco than that Russ Lytherin's students had joined the Court of Owls.

"Next group, Weasley and Crabbe!"

By the way, you can also exercise Harry.

……

……