Chapter 18: The Shift in Attitudes

Tver felt he had likely figured out the reason for their change in attitude—word had spread about him bonding with the students in class.

It only took one day for news to spread throughout the castle.

It truly was Hogwarts, as they say.

"It's just a bit of teaching technique," Tver shrugged, "Seems the students don't mind."

"The students not only don't mind," Professor Flitwick pretended to be mysterious as she winked, "I was worried you'd be nervous on your first day of teaching."

"Just a bunch of third-year kids, easy to handle," Tver said.

Smiling all the way, Tver felt his face stiffen.

Even though he had only met them at last night's dinner and today was the first day of school, it seemed as if all the students already knew this new professor.

But as he entered the Great Hall, he understood what Professor Flitwick meant.

When the students saw him, someone immediately screamed.

"Professor Fawley, can't you consider whipping us fourth-years too!"

Hmm, it was a rugged-looking boy.

The Great Hall erupted in laughter, but the students' eyes held anticipation, gazing eagerly at Tver.

"Professor, please teach us some fighting skills!"

"Feel free to bind me tightly, I don't mind!"

As for Quirrell on the staff table, he couldn't wait to not have to teach a single class, spending his days figuring out how to deal with the three-headed dog.

Tver had only taught one class so far, certainly not enough to warrant such anticipation from the students.

But in comparison, it was always precarious. In the same first class, Quirrell's lesson was nothing short of excruciatingly boring.

The classroom alone was filled with a strong smell of garlic, giving the students headaches.

Not to mention the content of the course, he just recited from the book, adding a bit more emotion compared to Professor Binns who taught History of Magic.

When it came to spellcasting, he would have the students demonstrate, though he talked a lot, he never showed them, leaving the students to figure it out themselves.

But Tver was different, just that golden membrane alone was enough to have the Weasley twins singing praises for half a day.

Then there was Ravenclaw's Davies, nearly becoming a die-hard fan of Professor Fawley, praising his prowess to the skies.

In the eyes of the young wizards, from appearance to ability, Professor Fawley was simply crushing Professor Quirrell!

Tver raised his hand, and the Great Hall immediately quieted down, all eyes on the students, especially the upperclassmen, filled with anticipation. With a sweeping gesture, he pointed towards Quirrell seated at the staff table.

"Classes for fourth-years and above are under the purview of Professor Quirrell. Trust me, his abilities are more than sufficient to handle the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor for you all. It's just that he hasn't showcased them yet."

If Quirrell wanted to conceal his abilities, Tver didn't mind digging a little pit for him. Now they were colleagues in every sense; if he didn't do it, who would?

This move had a significant effect. Quirrell's initially smiling face froze, his lips twitched, uncertain how to respond to the students' questioning gazes.

The minor disturbance in the Great Hall dissipated, but the students continued to discuss the charming Professor Fawley.

"We still have a few days before Professor Fawley's class," Ron, with a chicken leg in one hand and a treacle tart in the other, didn't stop eating, "So there's no need to get excited so early."

"I'm not excited!" Hermione, sitting beside them, reading while eating, raised her head with a frown, emphasizing disapprovingly. "Professor Fawley's first lesson is to test our abilities. If you don't even know a single spell, wouldn't we lose at first glance?!"

Neville put down the chicken leg in despair, "Then it's over for me. I might not even be able to cast a complete spell after studying for a year."

Harry listened silently to their discussion, feeling anxious himself.

During class today, he was pleasantly surprised to find that his magical learning wasn't inferior to his classmates', except for Hermione, of course.

But now, hearing about having to battle a professor in the first Defence Against the Dark Arts class, if his performance was poor, wouldn't he be sent back to the Dursleys for failing grades?

George sat excitedly in their midst, now on the Gryffindor table, wherever the conversation turned to Professor Fawley, he'd appear.

"Don't worry, no matter how much you learn, you'll only be knocked down by one of Professor Fawley's spells."

"Maybe the professor can scare them off with just a flick of his wand?" Fred grinned mischievously, echoing.

"But I heard you guys only got hit by one of the professor's spells, and then three of you were hung up," Ron blinked innocently, completely unaware he had hit the nail on the head.

...

The twins exchanged a silent glance.

"I think we could develop a kind of spider candy, turning people into spiders would be fun."

"We could also fill the common room with spiders, so the Gryffindors could practice their footwork in advance."

"Footwork? Are you talking about combat techniques?" Hermione's curiosity surged. "Could you elaborate on that?"

She was more interested in Professor Fawley's class content. As a diligent student, she always liked to prepare before class.

But from the fragments she heard, it seemed that Professor Fawley's teaching content didn't follow the textbook at all.

And in her impression, there were rarely any books containing such content.

"Don't worry, you'll learn about it. We have a whole year!" George shook his head triumphantly.

Currently, their batch was the only one that had taken Professor Fawley's class, and the specifics of the curriculum were unanimously kept secret.

These were confidential techniques that could enhance their abilities!

However, once everyone had taken the Defence Against the Dark Arts class, they would know these contents.

But by then, they would be bonded by the friendship of hanging from the ceiling together, so it wouldn't matter.

Hermione rolled her eyes discontentedly, no longer paying attention to the Weasley twins' banter.

But after Ron had eaten and drunk his fill, he suddenly said, "Aren't you worried that Professor Fawley might use dark magic?"

"Impossible, how could a professor use dark magic against students?!" Hermione immediately countered.

"But the professor is a standard Durmstrang, it's normal for him to know some dark magic, right?" Ron frowned.

In his mind, knowing dark magic equated to being a dark wizard, and a Durmstrang professor who taught dark magic was the headquarters of dark wizards.

George became displeased. He slapped Ron's shoulder heavily.

"My dear brother, knowing dark magic doesn't mean using it. I bet even Headmaster Dumbledore knows a fair amount of dark magic."

"Even if he's a dark wizard, it doesn't matter," Fred wore a fanatical expression, "as long as he doesn't use it against us."

Ron cast a disdainful glance at his two brothers.

You two were betting this morning on how long it would take for Professor Fawley to end up in Azkaban...