Harry felt uneasy every day of the new semester.
He didn't know what had gotten into Dumbledore, but Snape suddenly became a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. This made him feel as uncomfortable as if he had swallowed a fly.
Especially in the sixth grade, he had to choose an advanced elective course to deal with his new exams. This made him feel very uncomfortable.
To be precise, everything related to learning made him feel very uncomfortable. He really wanted to become a warrior now, just like the other members of the Phoenix Society. He wanted to fight with Voldemort and Voldemort's followers openly, and not hide in school to learn.
But Dumbledore wouldn't allow it.
The other members of the Phoenix Society had the same attitude. They didn't want Harry to show an excessive desire to fight, and only wanted Harry to stay in school peacefully according to their plan.
Of course, this was not going to happen.
But even if it was not going to happen, it had to happen. Unless he wanted to be expelled from the Hogwarts and go back to the Dursleys — this was not an outcome that Harry could accept. Hence, he still had to be a good student.
Especially in front of his dean, Professor Mag, he had to show this attitude. Especially since he had become the captain of the Quidditch team this year, there were many things that he had to do — he was no longer that willful child.
Moreover, under Professor Mag's half-forced suggestion, he had already chosen the magic potions course, and gotten his timetable and the Quidditch team's registration list.
He felt that his life had suddenly become busy.
And Ron's timetable was almost the same as his. Or rather, it was basically the same, but their reactions were completely different.
Ron was very happy.
He held the timetable, and happily said, "Look, we don't have classes now … and no classes after the break … and no classes after lunch. That's great …"
It was as if he was showing off that he had suddenly obtained something amazing.
The two of them returned to the common room. There were only six or seven seventh grade students in there. Katie Bell was also there. She was the only remaining member of the Gryffindor Quidditch team that Harry had joined in his first grade.
"I knew you would get it. That's great."
The girl pointed at the captain's badge on Harry's chest, and loudly said to him, "Remember to tell me when the selection competition starts!"
"Don't be silly," Harry said.
Harry said, "You don't have to participate in the selection at all. I've been watching you play for five years …"
"Don't do that from the start."
The girl gave Harry a warning look. "You know, there are some people who are much better at playing than I am.
In the past, there were some very good teams, but because the captain always let familiar faces play and let his friends join the team, a good team was ruined … "
Her words made Ron feel a little uncomfortable. He lowered his head and played with Hermione, the Wolf Fang Frisbee that he had confiscated from the fourth grade students.
The flying saucer flew back and forth in the common room, growling and gnawing at the tapestry on the wall. Crookshan's eyes were fixed on it, and every time he saw the flying saucer, he hissed.
No matter if it was a happy time or a depressing time, it was always short.
An hour later, they reluctantly left the sunny common room and went downstairs for the Defense Against Black Magic class.
Hermione was already waiting in line outside the classroom. She was holding a heavy pile of books in her arms, looking like she had been abused.
"There's a lot of homework for Magic," she said anxiously, as Harry and Ron joined her in the line. "A fifteen-inch essay, two translations, and all these books to read before Wednesday!"
"How unlucky."
Ron yawned.
"Just you wait," Hermione said angrily.
Hermione said angrily, "I bet Snape will give us a lot of homework too."
Just as she spoke, the classroom door opened, and Snape walked out into the corridor.
As before, his greasy black hair parted to the sides, framing his waxen face.
The line immediately fell silent.
His voice was as cold as ice in winter. "Come in."
As they entered the classroom, Harry looked around.
Snape had already branded his own personality traits in this classroom.
The curtains were drawn tight, and only the candles gave off a faint light, making the room even dimmer than usual.
There were pictures pasted on the walls, many of which were of people in pain, hideous wounds, and grotesquely twisted body parts.
After the students sat down, no one spoke. They all turned to look at the eerie pictures on the walls.
"I, haven't, told you to take out your books."
As Snape spoke, he closed the classroom door and walked behind the podium to face the class.
Hermione hurriedly threw the book "Encountering the Faceless Monster" back into her bag and stuffed it under her chair.
"I have something to say to all of you, and I hope you will pay close attention."
His black eyes scanned the faces that were turned up, and stayed on Harry's slightly longer than the others.
"So far, I believe you have already had five different teachers for this class."
Presumably...
Harry thought bitterly, It's as if you've never seen them come and go one by one. Snape, I hope you're next.
"Needless to say, these teachers all have their own teaching methods and priorities.
In such a chaotic situation, I am very surprised that so many of you have managed to pass the O.W.L.S. exam for this class.
I would be even more surprised if all of you could keep up with the advanced class, because the content is much more advanced. "
Snape walked down from the podium and walked around the classroom, speaking in a low voice.
In order to see him, the students all craned their necks.
"Black magic," said Snape. "There are so many different kinds of black magic, and there is no end to it.
Fighting it is like fighting a multi-headed monster. As soon as one head is chopped off, a new one immediately emerges, fiercer and more cunning than the previous one.
What you are facing is an unpredictable and indestructible thing. "
Harry stared at Snape.
It was one thing to value black magic as a dangerous enemy, but it was another to talk about it with fondness and admiration as Snape did.
"Therefore, your defences,"
Snape said in a slightly louder voice.
"must be as flexible and creative as the black magic you have to deal with.
These pictures, "he pointed to a few of them as he walked," vividly depict what happened to the victims. For example, being inflicted with a Heart-Piercing Curse, "
He pointed to a witch who was clearly screaming in pain,
"Or being kissed by a Dementor,"
A wizard was curled up in a corner, his eyes glazed over,
"Or being attacked by a zombie,"
He pointed to a pool of blood.
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