Chapter 270

When Potions class ended, Harry handed in a perfect Calming Potion, which improved Snape's expression considerably. But when he saw Ron's cauldron emitting the stench of rotten eggs, his face instantly twisted in revulsion.

"It's hard to imagine how you could have the audacity to bring this to my desk, Weasley," he said coldly. "Get out."

Ron had been waiting for those words—he bolted out of the classroom without delay, while Harry lingered, glancing back inside.

"Come on, let's go eat," Ron said. "What are you looking at?"

"I need a chance to talk to Pansy, but she's always clinging to Malfoy," Harry said, glancing once more into the classroom—then Snape's potion suddenly splattered everywhere, setting his robe on fire.

"They're practically glued to each other," Ron sneered. "Maybe the only chance is in the girls' bathroom."

"Alright," Harry sighed, turning toward the Great Hall—but after only a few steps, inspiration struck him.

"You're right—Malfoy won't follow Pansy when she's with the girls' society. We can use that," Harry mused. "But I can't go in myself—I'll have to rely on Ivy and Ginny."

They sat down in the Great Hall, each picking up their mashed potato meat pies and chewing slowly. Soon, Hermione and Neville joined them, and Ron stopped pressing Harry about his plan to ambush Malfoy, shifting the conversation to Snape's homework.

"Moonstone? I have no idea what that is," Ron said, feigning complaint but clearly seeking help. "What are its properties? What's its use in potion-making?"

"It's a very beautiful mineral," Harry replied without hesitation, while Hermione watched them both with a smile. "Uh—beautiful, mineral. That's all I know."

"Come on, Hermione, don't you have anything to say?" Ron asked.

"Oh, I thought showing off knowledge might be annoying," she shrugged. "But honestly, I'm not entirely sure either—I plan to check 'Principles of Mineral Use in Potions' at the library later."

As they walked upstairs after lunch, Ron suddenly lowered his voice. "Why did Hermione say 'showing off knowledge'? What's that about?"

"Neville's beside her," Harry whispered back. "I suspect she's referring to the Halloween incident from first year."

"Is she really that vengeful?"

"Maybe not intentionally—after all, her memory's always been excellent."

Until class began, they sat in the common room chatting—gossiping about Hermione when she was absent, mocking Pansy when she arrived, and switching to Quidditch once Ginny and Ivy returned.

Then Angelina Johnson, who had taken over as Quidditch team captain from Wood, arrived—and suddenly they stopped talking about Quidditch too.

"I need to inform you, Harry," she said, "we're holding tryouts for a new keeper this Friday. And you, Ron—I heard you're interested in the position. You'd better perform well."

Watching the common room grow increasingly crowded and knowing class was less than an hour away, they had no desire to return to their dorms for a nap, so they headed early toward the Muggle Studies classroom.

When Harry entered the classroom and saw a kind-faced middle-aged witch, he suddenly realized a problem: Who was the Muggle Studies professor again?

"Oh, hello, you're the fourth-years, no—the fifth-years, right?" the woman said. "I'm Caradoc Bubastis."

"Are you the new professor? But why didn't Snape introduce you?" Harry asked cautiously.

"Children, actually, I've been teaching here for years," Professor Bubastis said cheerfully. "I've always been the sole instructor for Muggle Studies. The past two years, Dumbledore asked Professor Dodo and Professor Lupin to assist me, but neither stayed long. Now, this subject is back to just me."

"Teaching all subjects alone isn't easy," Bubastis mused as she organized her books. "It's manageable for elective professors, but required course instructors are exhausted. Think about it—teaching seven year groups, twenty-four classes per week, some twice over, not to mention grading assignments. When two professors shared a subject, I felt relaxed and in control. I truly believe required courses should have more instructors."

Thinking of Snape juggling this crushing teaching load while also serving as Headmaster—and attending meetings with Death Eaters and the Order of the Phoenix—Harry genuinely doubted he had any time to rest.

After the bell rang, Harry found Bubastis's lesson content utterly dull. She devoted herself to promoting the elimination of blood prejudice, passionately defending Muggle-born wizards, and urging everyone to treat Muggles kindly. But for kind, upright people, such words needed no repetition; and for blood-purity fanatics, no amount of shouting could wake the willfully asleep.

After this rather tedious class, Harry sighed thoughtfully. "Oh, how I miss Clara."

"But I don't miss physics," Ron grumbled. "I think Professor Dodo taught best. Lupin was good too."

"Yes, Lupin didn't mention Muggles much, but at least he taught something useful—like the Shield Charm." Harry sighed.

"Don't say that," Hermione hurried up to them. "Professor Bubastis covered every single OWL exam point. If you want an Outstanding in Muggle Studies, the Shield Charm won't help you."

"That's why I say exams are the most boring thing," Ron squinted, tapping his temple. "A student who gets an Outstanding in Muggle Studies? Walk through a Muggle society, and they'll probably get shot by accident."

"If you can't even pass the exam, no one will believe you no matter how loudly you claim your abilities," Hermione said sharply.

"But what's the point of this exam? Do I have to write an essay on how to treat Muggles kindly? Thank goodness—who's going to treat me kindly?" Ron snapped.

"Stop arguing," Harry said. "Black Arts Defense is coming up—you'll have plenty of chances to use the Shield Charm."

"It's not about the Shield Charm," Ron said weakly.

When they entered the Black Arts Defense classroom, they found Arnold already seated behind the desk, still dressed in formal attire, tie neatly knotted, his black-rimmed spectacles perfectly perched on his straight nose.

"Good afternoon, both of you," he said, setting down his teacup as they entered.

"Good afternoon, Sir Arnold," Harry said politely.

"You don't need to address me as Sir, like Snape does," Arnold said. "In class, children simply call me Professor Abison."

"It's fine, Sir Arnold—we're happy to call you that," Harry smiled and nodded.

"Why are you contradicting him?" Ron whispered.

"You don't get it—no one refuses to be called Sir. He's just being politely modest," Harry whispered back.

"Perfect. Sir Harry," Ron rolled his eyes.

As other students entered, Arnold didn't greet them, and the children remained silent. Only when he glanced at his watch did he speak, his voice neither loud nor soft but perfectly clear: "Students, good afternoon."

"Before we begin, I need to confirm the current teaching progress," he placed both hands squarely on the desk. "From what I understand, the rotating professors have taught you basic self-defense techniques, dealing with dark creatures, modern dueling theory, and advanced Black Arts theory."

"The latter two are not part of the Ministry's official curriculum," he nodded, then added gently, "I have no intention of criticizing my predecessors' content. For retired Aurors, this is simply their best understanding of the subject."

Then Arnold tapped his wand against the blackboard, and two lines immediately appeared:

Black Arts Defense

Return to Fundamentals

"In fact, when designing the syllabus, we considered the overall purpose: Black Arts Defense aims to protect students from Black Arts—specifically, from dark creatures or Dark Wizards," Arnold said softly. "This course does not guarantee safety in scenarios involving lawful magical creatures, natural phenomena, magical experiments, or formal wizard duels."

"Some Aurors believe directly training students' combat skills is the best solution to all problems. But this also makes students reckless, impulsive, and overconfident. The Ministry's recent Auror fatality rate has reached an unprecedented peak," Arnold said with a hint of regret. "Therefore, we believe it necessary to correct the course's teaching approach and relocate the study of defensive spells elsewhere."

"That means spells like Stupefy and Expelliarmus should be taught by Magical Creatures professors; Barrier and Splitting Charms should be supplemented by Potions teachers; Finite Incantatem and Incendio should return to Charms class; and Disarming Charm should be confined to the Dueling Club," Arnold said seriously. "Only targeted spells—such as the Jinx and the Patronus Charm—belong in Black Arts Defense."

"But we've already learned those. So what will we study this term?" someone asked.

"This term, we will learn how to avoid being targeted by Dark Wizards," Arnold said calmly. "But Dark Wizards don't attack everyone indiscriminately—they usually choose their targets. What we must learn is how to fully embody our House traits to avoid being targeted."

"Dark Wizards won't attack outstanding Hufflepuffs, because they'd rather befriend them; won't attack outstanding Ravenclaws, because they often need their help; and won't attack outstanding Gryffindors, because they might not be able to defeat them."

"What about Slytherins?" Ron asked curiously.

"Oh, child, you don't think Dark Wizards skip school, do you?"