Chapter 26: Practical Combat Class
Chapter 26: Practical Combat Class
Harry and Ron sulked as they ate their lunch in the Great Hall, while Hermione looked at them with a satisfied smile.
"This is the punishment you deserve. It's just a Howler, after all. At first, I thought Professor Mcgonagall might expel you, and Mrs. Weasley would come to take you home, heartbroken."
Ron took a tasteless sip of his pumpkin juice.
"Professor Mcgonagall hasn't announced our punishment yet, but Mum's Howler has already made Harry and me lose face this morning."
Although Harry also felt embarrassed, he was most guilty about Mrs. Weasley's letter, which said that their use of the flying car might cost Mr. Weasley his job at the Ministry of Magic.
The Weasleys had treated him like their own son during the summer, and he had been so irresponsible.
"What do we have this afternoon?" He put down his knife and fork, which he had used to chop his sausage into tiny pieces without eating any, and pulled out his second-year timetable from his robe pocket.
"Defense Against the Dark Arts?"
Hermione glanced at the time and put down her utensils.
"Yes, I heard from the first-year students who have already had Defense Against the Dark Arts that Professor Forrest hates people who are late. We should hurry so we don't make a bad impression on the first day."
Harry and Ron exchanged a glance.
"I think we already made a bad impression on him last night", Harry said gloomily.
"My wand is broken, and I don't think I can do much with a wand that's barely held together by Spellotape!" Ron said, annoyed, as he looked at his wand.
Hermione stood up.
"Then we should go. We only have ten minutes before class starts."
The three of them rushed to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, and soon all the second-year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs were gathered.
Sherlock entered the classroom just before the bell rang.
After lunch, he had gone to the staff common room to rest, but he ended up chatting with Professor Flitwick about the improved applications of the Summoning Charm for the entire afternoon. Now, he was visibly tired.
However, seeing the classroom filled with students, he mustered his energy and began taking attendance.
Second-year students rarely arrived late, so the afternoon Defense Against the Dark Arts class started smoothly.
"Professor Mcgonagall informed me that your performance in Defense Against the Dark Arts last semester was rather poor."
Sherlock didn't stay at the front of the room but walked between the students' desks to keep his attention focused.
"Since I didn't teach you last semester, I can't comment on Professor Quirrell's effectiveness, but I can say with certainty that you didn't meet the learning objectives for your first year."
"Based on your end-of-term exam results from last semester, out of the seven spells required from the first-year textbook A Guide to Defensive Spells Against the Dark Arts, most of you can only perform five."
"Of those five, Lumos, Nox, Red Sparks, and Green Sparks are paired spells. If you master one of each pair, you can naturally learn the other."
"So, after an entire year of Defense Against the Dark Arts, you have actually only mastered three spells: the Lumos, the Spark Spell, and Snivelhex. The most practical spells for dangerous situations, the Smokescreen Spell and the Repelling Charm, have been learned by very few of you. This shows that your classes last semester were quite superficial."
"As for the theoretical knowledge of Dark creatures, I can only describe it with one word: abysmal."
Hearing Sherlock say this, every student in the classroom lowered their heads in shame. They knew their Defense Against the Dark Arts grades were poor, and while part of the blame could be attributed to Quirrell, the majority of the fault lay with their own lack of effort in the subject.
"I know I can't entirely blame you, but I need to make it clear that because you fell behind last semester, you must take this year's Defense Against the Dark Arts more seriously."
Sherlock returned to the podium, his gaze calm yet intensely oppressive as he looked down at the students.
"The spells you missed can be caught up with in the future, but in the first Defense Against the Dark Arts class of this semester, your main focus will be on how to apply what you've learned to handle various unexpected situations."
"Having studied magic for a year at Hogwarts, you can now be considered apprentice wizards. You've learned a number of spells, Transfiguration, and other magical knowledge."
"But while this knowledge is stored in your minds, can you correctly use the most appropriate spell in the right situation?"
"Defense Against the Dark Arts won't teach you a specific set of spells; instead, it will integrate what you've learned and apply it in real combat. Therefore, the core of Defense Against the Dark Arts is practical application!"
His voice was cold, and all the students in the classroom involuntarily focused their attention, afraid to let their minds wander.
"Move the desks in the first five rows to the back, leaving only one desk in the center."
Harry, who had been listening attentively to Sherlock's lecture, couldn't help but feel excited when he heard this.
"Is Professor Forrest planning to let us duel?" he whispered to Ron.
Ron was also excited, looking around as if trying to find his next opponent.
"Too bad Malfoy isn't in this class with us; this would have been a great opportunity to teach him a lesson!"
Hermione, however, looked concerned.
"Isn't it a bit too early? We're only in our second year."
Most of the students in the classroom were like Harry and Ron, eager to try their skills. Their Defense Against the Dark Arts classes last semester had been dull, with Quirrell repeatedly reading from the textbook, leaving them with no real understanding of the practical aspects of the subject.
The desks in the first five rows were moved to the back, leaving only one desk in the center as Sherlock had instructed.
However, he did not pair them up for duels as Harry and the others had expected. Instead, he lightly tapped the remaining desk with his wand.
A remarkable transformation began on the desk, its shape reshaping and morphing, while Sherlock's calm yet oppressive voice echoed through the classroom.
"Having you duel each other wouldn't provide enough pressure, so I've arranged a more formidable opponent for you."
As he finished speaking, the desk's transformation was complete, and a fierce roar erupted from the transformed object.
"Meow~!"
(End of Chapter)
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