Chapter 26 "Combat Practice"

Harry and Ron are enjoying their lunch in the Great Hall, while Hermione is just watching them on the side.

"You deserve getting that punishment, but it's just a Howler. At first, I thought that Professor McGonagall would expel you, and your mother came to bring you home."

Ron drank the pumpkin juice from the glass, "Professor McGonagall hadn't given our punishment yet, but Mom's Howler already humiliated Harry and me this morning."

Although Harry also felt embarrassed, he was guilty of it. Mrs. Weasley said that their action by using the flying car could potentially lead Mr. Weasley to lose his job at the Ministry of Magic. During the summer vacation, the Weasleys treated him like their son, but they have messed up really badly now.

"What class are we in this afternoon?" He put down the knife and fork; he had cut sausage into pieces but didn't take a bite, and took out the second-grade schedule from his pocket.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts class?"

Hermione looked at the time and put down the cutlery in her hands, "Yes, I met a first-year student who went to that class today, and Professor Forrest hates people who are not on time. We'd better hurry up and don't leave him a bad impression in the class."

Harry and Ron looked at each other and said dully, "I don't think the impression we left on him last night was good enough."

"My wand is broken, and I don't think it's good for me to rely on a wand like this in class." Ron was upset, looking at the wand in his hand that was barely glued together.

Hermione stood up., "We have to go now. Come on, there are ten minutes left before the class starts."

The three ran to the class, and it didn't take long for the second-grade Gryffindor and Hufflepuffs to be there. Sherlock entered the classroom before the bell rang.

After lunch, he went to the professor's common room to rest for a while and met Professor Flitwick there. He was forced to talk about the improved application of several spells, and now he was a little tired. But looking at the already seated students, he cheered himself up and started doing the roll call.

No second-grade students came to the class late, so the class started a little bit early.

"I learned from Professor McGonagall that your Defense Against the Dark Arts class last semester was average." Sherlock didn't stand on the podium all the time but walked back and forth between the desks so that he could keep his attention straight.

"I have yet to meet Professor Quirrell, who taught your class last semester, and I'm not qualified to rate his teaching style. But I know you didn't accomplish things you were supposed to in your first year."

"Judging from your final exam results last semester, you can only use five out of the seven spells required to be mastered in the book. 'The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection' is a commonly used first-grade book."

"Four of which are Wand-Lighting Charm, Wand-Extinguishing Charm, Red Sparks, and Green Sparks, all of which are the same thing. If you master any one of the two pairs, you can naturally learn the other."

"After a whole year of study, you only mastered the three spells, which are Lighting Charm, Sparks Charm, and Curse of the Bogies. The Smokescreen Spell and the Knockback Jinx, which are important to avoid a dangerous situation, are the ones that you didn't learn. This proves that your performance last semester was not too good."

"Not to mention the theoretical knowledge of magical creatures. I can only use one word to describe it. Appalling."

Hearing Sherlock say this, every student in the class bowed their heads in shame. They all knew that their class was not good. Even though there was Quirrell, they didn't learn much as they didn't understand what he was explaining at that time.

"I know that it's not wholly your fault, but this is to let you know that it is precisely because all of you made a slow progress last year, this year you need to be more extra in this class." Sherlock returned to the podium, looking at the students below with an oppressive gaze.

"There will be time to make up for the spells that you have not learned, and in the first Defense Against the Dark Arts class this semester, you need to learn how to use what you have learned to deal with various situations."

"You, who have been studying magic at Hogwarts for a year, are now a wizard who has just begun to see the door. You have learned a lot of spells, Transfiguration and other knowledge."

"Although the knowledge has been recorded in your brain, can you correctly use the spell under a certain situation?"

"The Defense Against the Dark Arts class will teach how to use a certain type of spell, combine what you have learned, and use it in actual combat. The core of this class lies in actual combat." His voice was cold, and all the students in the class couldn't help but focus their minds. No one dared to divert their attention.

Harry had been seriously listening to Sherlock's words, and he couldn't contain the excitement in his face.

"Is Professor Forrest going to let us duel?" He whispered to Ron.

Ron looked around excitedly as if looking for his future opponent, "It's a pity that Malfoy didn't take this class with us. Otherwise, I would definitely take this opportunity to teach him a lesson."

Hermione was a little worried., "Isn't it too early? We are only in the second grade."

Most of the students in the classroom were as excited as Harry and Ron were because their class last semester was boring. They had been listening to Quirrell's teaching over and over for the whole year, but they didn't feel they were learning any actual combat knowledge or experience.

All the tables in the first five rows were pushed to the back, and only one table was left at Sherlock's request. However, he did not arrange for them to duel each other in two groups, as Harry and the others had thought it would be.

He used his wand to lightly point at the only desk left. A change happened to the desk; its entire shape was changing and deformed, and at the same time, Sherlock's voice could be heard throughout the classroom.

"Letting all of you duel each other wouldn't give you enough pressure, so I made for you a more powerful opponent."

His voice fell, the desk completely changed its appearance, and a loud roar could be heard from the mouth of the deformed desk.

"Mreowww!"