Chapter 632: A New Beginning, Seventeen Magical Laws
Felix Harp emerged, his head still feeling a bit dizzy, as if his consciousness lingered in Professor Bagshot's office. They sat on plush sofa cushions, bathed in the flickering, crimson light of the fireplace, discussing insights into magic.
Professor Bagshot's theoretical knowledge was extensive, covering a wide range of topics without becoming overly verbose. He had a knack for clearly presenting personal thoughts through clever demonstrations. In comparison, Felix felt his own articulation lacking, his mind a jumble.
This realization frustrated him, considering he had taught spells to students in the Frontline Observatory Club.
Unable to resist, Felix compared the professors he encountered in this class.
In the first and second years, he met Quirrell and Lockhart, but learned little of practical value from them. Quirrell was possessed by Voldemort, likely preoccupied with plans to seize the Philosopher's Stone, making him less focused on teaching. Despite reputed solid theoretical knowledge, Quirrell's curse on the flying broomstick attested to potential mental corruption.
At the time Felix discovered he was a Horcrux, he harbored suspicions that he might grow a face resembling Quirrell's on the back of his head.
As for Lockhart, apart from the Forgetfulness Charm, he was useless and currently suffering in Azkaban. Nevertheless, in terms of classroom excitement, Lockhart surpassed others. His readings and non-material performances were lively and full of emotion, a stark contrast to Quirrell's fumbling speech and nervous demeanor.
Reflecting on his first encounter with serious Dark Arts education, it started with Professor Damocles Belby (excluding the Dueling Club).
In the third year, students welcomed Professor Lupin. Perhaps mixed with subjective feelings, Felix considered him the best Defense Against the Dark Arts professor he encountered. Lupin had a gentle demeanor, a friendly attitude toward students, and, due to his concealed werewolf identity, had dealt with many challenging dark creatures and evil magic. "I am a part of them," Lupin once said bitterly, and Harry vehemently disagreed. Many students still fondly remembered Lupin – they were tortured enough by Moody's teaching methods in the fourth year, and "Maybe Professor Hap invited you and saved some advertising costs!"
Harry's feelings towards Professor Moody were also complex. He recognized that his admiration for the legendary Alastor Moody was partially manufactured by the Death Eater Barty Crouch Jr., disguised as Moody. Still, he decided not to dwell on it; he had learned valuable knowledge on dealing with dark wizards and found Moody absolutely reliable.
Last year's Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was Sirius Black (in their last contact, Sirius mentioned seeing Rita Skeeter reporting mad cow disease on Muggle TV). Harry speculated that Sirius had a special mission as a professor – perhaps training students to handle emergencies and real combat skills under the threat of war. His peers in Harry's year seemed well-prepared during the O.W.Ls practical exams.
Now, Professor Bagshot – Harry's heart sank, possibly due to Bagshot's former association with the Saints, harboring some animosity towards Muggles or practicing 'discrimination.' Harry recalled the speech he witnessed today, and it was clear that Grindelwald believed wizards and Muggles were two different groups in competition.
Isn't there a Statute of Secrecy?
A voice in Harry's mind asked, what if the Statute of Secrecy fails? He couldn't think of a solution, weighing heavily on his heart. A sudden gust of cold wind, accompanied by snowflakes, hit his face. Harry looked up to see the windows in the corridor were open.
He walked forward, small ice crystals sticking to the window frame. The cold, biting sensation on his fingers made him realize winter was approaching. "What are you doing?" Filch suddenly appeared, holding a glowing wand.
"Closing the windows," Harry said.
"It's almost curfew, and you're wandering around the castle. I suspect..." Filch spoke in a cold, threatening tone. Mrs. Norris, the cat, nestled comfortably in her master's shadow, rubbing against Filch's trouser leg.
"So, it's not curfew yet?" Harry exclaimed loudly. "Thanks for the reminder!" He walked away, leaving behind the sound of Filch panting heavily. Then, he heard Filch mutter a spell, and the window slammed shut.
Some relationships are challenging to improve, Harry thought as he climbed the stairs. He thought about Draco Malfoy – they were destined not to be friends, with too much history and resentment between them. Unless external forces forced them together – like in-class group training.
Thinking about it, Harry couldn't help but feel a hint of melancholy that in two more years, after graduation, they might never have any interaction. Hogwarts was the first place that truly felt like home to him.
The next day, at the Great Hall.
"So, Professor Bagshot didn't punish you at all and actually discussed magic with you?" Ron's tone sounded somewhat jealous.
"Yeah," Harry said. During breakfast, he took the opportunity to tell Ron and Hermione about last night's experience (omitting the part about the Saints).
"He's not that heartless after all," Ron mumbled, noticeably warming up to Professor Bagshot. Even Hermione seemed slightly surprised. "But why did he keep you in the class?"
"My essay did have quite a few problems," Harry shrugged.
He couldn't believe he was finding excuses for Professor Bagshot, but he genuinely didn't want to reveal the professor's past as a Saint. That was in the past, right? Broadcasting it would only put Professor Bagshot in an awkward position. Harry recalled Lupin's werewolf identity – after Lupin confessed, he resigned shortly thereafter.
"Oh, Hermione," Harry casually asked, "how much do you know about Grindelwald?"
Although he tried to be nonchalant, Ron interrupted, "Wait, he treated you to snacks too?"
"Yeah, I got a Dumbledore Chocolate Frog card while eating chocolate frogs in Professor Bagshot's office," Harry said, sharing last night's experience while discreetly omitting the part about the Saints.
"He even offered you snacks?" Ron interjected. "Well, I'm glad I'm not dealing with Pixies anymore."
"You can choose not to go," Hermione said.
"Leave Ginny alone? Mum would kill me if she found out," Ron protested.
Right, their discussion had shifted. It wasn't about teaching Luna the Parseltongue anymore; now, it was about whether to spend time exploring the Chamber with them. Harry didn't want to go, as this adventure was bound to be futile – the real Resurrection Stone was on Dumbledore's hand.
Thursday evening, Harry absentmindedly saw Luna crossing the grounds, looking trendy. Suddenly, he realized the weekend was approaching, and he hadn't given Luna a response. Ron and Hermione had conflicting opinions on the matter.
"Why should we go to the smelly sewer? Not to mention, we have to enter the girls' bathroom – I don't want to deal with Myrtle again," Ron's face scrunched up.
"You can choose not to go," Hermione suggested. The most update n0vels are published on ɴovelfire.net
"I can't just leave Ginny hanging. If Mum finds out, she'll kill me," Ron protested.
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