章節 217: Chapter 217: The Defense Against the Dark Arts Objective
"Tut-tut, look at Potter's face. I'd bet if he brewed it again, it would turn out even worse. Since first year, I've grown to love Potions class more and more. Watching Harry and Neville get scolded by Professor Snape is always the highlight," Draco Malfoy said with an overly gleeful expression as they walked through the dungeon corridors. Even his steps seemed lighter than usual.
Lilian scoffed disdainfully. "Oh, give it a rest. You only have one more year to enjoy your little companions' company. Cherish it. These moments will probably be your most meaningful memories at Hogwarts—after all, true love never fades."
Draco's face turned a mix of red and green as he opened his mouth slightly, then clamped it shut. In that instant, he realized with some bitterness that the most biting tongue had always been the one beside him.
Augustus chuckled softly and shook his head. Clearly, the supposed "love story" between Malfoy, Neville, and Harry had long been Lilian's favorite material for amusement. "Hmm, Defense Against the Dark Arts next, isn't it? Judging by the new professor, I suspect it's going to feel like a bureaucratic seminar rather than an actual lesson."
Lilian's deep red eyes flickered with distaste. "For those who live their lives behind masks of deceit, everything is a tool. Starting with education, they indoctrinate students with the Ministry's ideology. It's as blatant as it gets."
When they entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, they found Professor Umbridge already seated behind her desk. She wore the same fuzzy pink cardigan from the previous evening, with a black velvet bow perched atop her head.
Augustus noticed her gaze linger on him as he entered, her smile distinctly directed his way.
"Good afternoon, class!" Umbridge chirped once everyone was seated.
A few students mumbled a half-hearted "Good afternoon" in response.
"Tut-tut," Professor Umbridge said. "That won't do. You should respond like this: 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.' Now, let's try again. Good afternoon, class!"
Ah, the classic approach—starting with something as trivial as greetings to subtly establish authority. Augustus's lips curled into a faint smirk, his eyes betraying a trace of amusement.
"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," they responded in unison.
"Much better," she simpered in her saccharine voice. "See? That wasn't so hard. Now, wands away, and take out your quills."
Umbridge pulled a shockingly short wand from her bag and rapped it sharply on the blackboard. Instantly, two lines of text appeared:
Defense Against the Dark Arts: Returning to Basic Principles
"This year, we will focus on a carefully structured, theory-based curriculum approved by the Ministry of Magic. Copy this down," she said sweetly.
With another sharp tap of her wand, the previous text vanished, replaced by "Course Objectives."
Understand the fundamental principles of defensive magic.
Learn to identify situations where defensive magic may be legally employed.
Evaluate the use of defensive magic in practical contexts.
What a load of nonsense. For once, Augustus couldn't mask a flicker of irritation. The Ministry's preference for theoretical over practical application was precisely why Voldemort, a rogue wizard with no substantial background, had managed to suppress them for decades. Perhaps, however, this curriculum was just a prelude to the Ministry's broader control over Hogwarts.
Golden sunlight streamed through the windows, falling on Augustus as he flipped through the new textbook, The Theory of Magical Defense. Its contents were so dull that he soon lost interest.
At the front of the classroom, Hermione raised her hand suddenly.
"Yes, dear, do you have a question about this chapter?" Umbridge asked, as if only now noticing her.
"No, it's not about the chapter," Hermione replied.
"Oh, well, we're in the middle of reading," Umbridge said, her sharp little teeth flashing. "If you have other questions, we can address them after class."
"It's about the course objectives," Hermione said boldly.
"Miss Granger, I believe the objectives are perfectly clear if you simply read them thoroughly," Umbridge said, her voice saccharine yet unyielding.
"I disagree," Hermione stated bluntly. "There's not a single word about actually using defensive spells."
Augustus rubbed his chin. This was where Gryffindors and Slytherins differed sharply. Gryffindors were always at the forefront, challenging authority and pushing boundaries. Their passion and resolve were, he admitted, enviable.
"If you master the theory thoroughly—" Umbridge began.
"What use is theory in the real world?" Harry interrupted loudly, his hand shooting into the air.
Umbridge's gaze shifted to him.
"This is a school, Mr. Potter, not the real world," she said softly.
"Then we're not supposed to prepare for what's waiting outside?"
"There's nothing waiting outside, Mr. Potter."
"Oh, really?" Harry retorted. His temper, simmering all day, was now close to boiling over.
"Who do you imagine would attack children like you?" Umbridge asked in a falsely sweet tone.
"Well, let me think… perhaps Voldemort?" Harry said with mock thoughtfulness.
Lilian sighed faintly. Uttering that name now—was it courage, or just naïve recklessness?
Lavender Brown let out a low scream, and Neville toppled off his stool. But Umbridge showed no sign of fear. Instead, she stared at Harry with a menacingly satisfied expression.
"Let's clarify a few things," Umbridge began, rising from her seat and leaning forward with both hands on the desk.
"Someone has been spreading the ridiculous notion that a certain Dark wizard has returned—"
A soft, casual voice interrupted from the back of the room.
"Well, if the person you're referring to isn't someone else, then it must be me."
Augustus spoke with a bright smile, his long, narrow eyes glinting with a hint of playful mischief.
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