Chapter 271

Arnold smiled as he waited for the students' chatter to subside, then continued: "Next, I'll briefly explain how Gryffindor students can scare off Dark wizards—it's not difficult, and it's been tested in real Auror operations."

"Let me give you an example. Once, an Auror facing a Death Eater claimed he was a core member of the Order of the Phoenix, and that pressing his phoenix badge on his arm would cause Dumbledore to Apparate to his side immediately," Arnold said slowly. "The Death Eater, uncertain but frightened, retreated."

"Those familiar with Dumbledore would know this is a ridiculous claim, but the point of verbal exchange has never been truth—it's whether others are willing to believe it," Arnold said. "To the Death Eater, having seen the Dark Mark, he naturally assumed the 'phoenix badge' was real."

"Though Dumbledore is no longer alive, we can certainly adapt this tactic—luckily, a new star is rising in the magical world," Arnold sat up straight and said seriously. "As I understand, Harry Potter spent his summer gathering the legendary Deathly Hallows and gained power sufficient to defeat Death."

"No, he didn't." Harry muttered under his breath. The badge was in the Order's possession; his wand lay in Dumbledore's grave. He hadn't taken any of them for himself.

"Moreover, Harry Potter has inherited Grindelwald's legacy and understands all Dark Magic inside out," Arnold ignored the stir in the crowd and continued as if alone. "He mastered all of Grindelwald's spells in a short time and even improved upon them."

"He's lying—Grindelwald's magic isn't that easy to learn," Harry said aloud.

"Meanwhile, Harry Potter secretly assembled an army—including werewolves, vampires, giants—creatures marginalized by wizards," Arnold disregarded Harry's protest and went on. "He recruited talented, loyal students to form Dumbledore's Army and is actively expanding it."

"You're making this all up!" Harry shouted back.

"Student, I meant to say this earlier—you should spend less time wandering around and read the Daily Prophet more!" Arnold said irritably. "What's your name again?"

"I'm Harry Potter." Harry scratched his head.

"Ah, ah, you see? Mr. Potter still hasn't fully grasped what I'm trying to convey," Arnold remained calm. "It's not your fault. Though honesty is a noble virtue, a well-placed lie often yields better results."

"Let's continue: suppose Dumbledore's Army uses a special insignia to communicate—fake Galleons or safety pins, for instance," Arnold continued. "If a core member is in danger, he can alert others to come to his aid. Wouldn't that be terrifying to Dark wizards?"

"I recommend this approach to Gryffindor students because when one claims to be a core member of Dumbledore's Army, it sounds more credible—it fits the Dark wizards' stereotypes about other houses," Arnold concluded. "For Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw students, I'd suggest methods better suited to their house traits. But for Gryffindors, intimidation like this works best."

"Next class, we'll discuss verbal tactics against Dark wizards," Arnold waved his wand, and a line appeared on the blackboard. "Your homework: write a ten-inch essay describing Harry Potter's great achievements—note, we don't care if it's true, only that it sounds believable."

"Can I skip it?" Harry muttered.

"Oh, by the way, since Harry Potter himself is sitting in this classroom," Arnold said, "I expect your essay to be twenty inches long."

Harry wanted to stand up and argue, but he didn't know what to say—he had no real reason to be angry, yet he felt inexplicably irritated. Some students stared at him curiously; others looked at him with admiration or envy.

"We mustn't overlook another important matter: your OWL exams," Arnold swiftly changed topics and made a pile of books beneath the desks fly into the air, distributing them to the students.

"To help you perform well on the exams, some dull reading and exercises are unavoidable. I regret to remind you that we may not use a single defensive spell all year," Arnold concluded.

"Now turn to page five. Let's go over the introductory principles—possible exam topics include..."

Harry mechanically followed Arnold's instructions, underlining line after line of dry text. He realized the exam topics were nearly as numerous as the chapter's entire content—perhaps, like Hermione, memorizing the whole book would be better.

"For these topics, I'll explain corresponding exam questions. Pay close attention and take thorough notes," Arnold tapped the blackboard, and a line appeared. "Everything I say is drawn from actual past exam questions."

Students began copying notes. Harry suppressed his irritation: no matter how bizarre Arnold's personal theories on Defense Against the Dark Arts might be, at least he genuinely wanted to help them ace the upcoming exams.

"I think we're nearly done for today. One final reminder," Arnold said at last. "Professor Moody's Dueling Club is highly valuable—I believe it should be preserved and continued."

"At the same time, I will establish my own club: the Mock Trial Court," he said. "You'll defend virtual suspects based on basic defense principles in preset scenarios. Top performers may earn the chance to serve as jurors in real trials."

"Jury member!" Ron whispered. "Percy's mentioned it dozens of times—having served as a juror gives you major points when applying for Ministry positions!"

"That red-haired student beside Harry Potter," Arnold said. "You're absolutely right. Please repeat what you just said, louder."

"Uh, I mean," Ron raised his voice, "serving as a juror helps when applying for Ministry positions."

"Exactly," the bell rang. "Class dismissed."

For Harry, dinner in the Great Hall that night was no pleasure. As he sat at the Gryffindor table, students from all seven years crowded around him, desperate to extract even a single word to pad their essays.

"Say something, Mr. Potter," someone shouted. Harry recognized Colin. "Describe the battle last year—then we'll all have material to write."

"Tell us about the monster in the Chamber—how you cleared it out—" someone began, but was immediately interrupted. "Sirius! We all know you captured him!"

"Aren't you curious about the Deathly Hallows? I want Harry to tell us—" "Tell us about Grindelwald's magic!"

Harry looked at the overeager crowd. He knew they didn't truly care about the truth or falsehood of his deeds—they just wanted to finish their homework.

"Quiet down, everyone," Harry shouted. "If you want to write essays, why not copy Rita Skeeter's reports? She describes things far more vividly and in far greater detail than I ever could."

As he spoke, Harry grew irritated with the unscrupulous reporter. "Or just make up a story yourself and pin it on me—I won't mind. I'm used to it."

"The young-famous Harry Potter never boasts of his achievements. He often humbly says his words are too clumsy to describe what he's done. Fortunately, we can glimpse a little from the reports of renowned journalist Rita Skeeter..."

"Fine, you bastard!" Harry cursed. "I'm out of here."

At least the Deathly Hallows weren't entirely fake. Once beneath the table, Harry slipped on his Invisibility Cloak and slipped away from the crowd effortlessly.

"Hi, Harry." As he turned a corner, he saw Zhang Qiu sitting on the windowsill, waving at him.

"Oh, thank goodness—I thought I couldn't take it anymore," Harry relaxed instantly. "Do you know what our Defense Against the Dark Arts homework is? Arnold actually wants us to write an essay praising me!"

"That's not surprising. Do you know his real identity?" Zhang Qiu jumped down from the windowsill.

"What?" Harry was curious—he'd always assumed Arnold was just a Ministry official.

"Before retiring, he was Cabinet Secretary—the first civil servant ever promoted from Ministry Secretary to Cabinet Secretary."

Zhang Qiu said, "It was under him that the Ministry first came under the Cabinet's direct attention."

"Cabinet Secretary?" Harry paused. He wasn't quite sure what that meant.

"The head of the British Empire's civil service. He saw off one Prime Minister and Cabinet after another, yet remained firmly atop the power structure," Zhang Qiu said gravely. "He built the Ministry's entire civil service system. You thought you were getting a clerk to teach you—but you got the puppet master."

Harry's expression darkened. If Arnold was truly this powerful, what was he planning with all these actions?