Chapter 15 Classroom

"There is always someone who says that history is useless, and if at some point you are around that someone who says this same thing to you, then I suggest you better stay away from that person because the odds that this person is hopelessly stupid are high."

In the classroom, the chubby, elderly teacher with a walrus-like moustache spoke wittily from the podium as he started the History of Magic class, with only five children sitting below to listen.

The ground trembled slightly, which meant that the wagon did not stop, and unless there were special circumstances, it would always be moving everywhere around England with this school.

"I've met many such fools before, who ridicule the study of history saying that it is not even as significant as the study of how to make a slug clean, and called the historians a bunch of idle people with nothing better to do."

"But history is far more meaningful than any kind of magic just by existing, and what it records is about who we are ourselves because we will always exist in history. And in the other Hogwarts, one of the most notable ways they erase the human rights of Muggle students is by erasing all the various historical mentions of Muggle wizards from the history of magic."

Slughorn tapped the blackboard with the wand in his hand and the white letters slowly emerged on the black panel.

"This being your first class at Hogwarts today, we won't start with those boring chronicles, compared to that, I think 'The History of the Creation of Hogwarts' might hold your interest better."

The textbooks Jon and the class using were second-hand, it's not that Hogwarts couldn't afford to buy them new ones, but the regular history of magic textbooks were probably not even sold in bookshops in the wizarding community anymore.

The textbooks that the students used seven years ago have been prohibited, and the Ministry of Magic has restricted every publisher from printing them, so the books they currently have are those left over from the previous year's students.

The former Head of Slytherin was not a dull lecturer, and even the history of magic, which seemed to be boring, became interesting under his tongue.

He recounted how wizards suffered endless persecution nearly ten centuries ago when young wizards with magic in their bodies were too afraid to reveal their uniqueness and no one taught them how to channel it, causing the magic in their bodies to be constantly suppressed, which eventually turned them into terrible monsters.

It was in this era that four great wizards gathered together to build a castle by a mountain and a lake to establish the first school of magic in Europe.

Originally, this school was founded so that every child who possessed magic in his or her body could have the opportunity to understand it.

The hour and a half of class time passed quickly, and the next Herbology class was still indoors.

A door opened from the corridor and inside was a room with two rows of wooden shelves filled with dragon hide gloves and protective clothing, and on the wall opposite the entrance door were five doors with the label "Greenhouse 1 to 5".

Greenhouse 1 is a room with a transparent ceiling that provides an unobstructed view of the blue sky outside and lets in the sunlight.

Professor McGonagall had been waiting for them before they arrived.

"I'm not specialized in herbology, and as far as my knowledge pool on this subject is concerned, I'm nowhere near as good as my predecessor, the late Professor Sprout. But the basics of magical plants are not too profound, and if any of you are extremely gifted in this area in the future, I can be a guide, and you can come to me with any ideas or doubts you may have on herbology. But even so, I will not relax my demands on you, and may even be much stricter than the Transfiguration class."

In the lush greenhouse, Professor McGonagall's face was serious as she taught them about the role and habits of the magical plants and taught them hands-on how to cultivate them.

As she said, perhaps because she is replacing her best friend as a Herbology professor, Professor McGonagall is much more strict in the greenhouse classroom.

Ron, who was a bit careless and made a lot of mistakes, received a lot of reprimands from her and became increasingly cautious and afraid in the second half of the class, even when he touched a leaf with his dragon skin gloves.

After the morning session, lunch was served in the same room as breakfast.

As there was no sorting, the students on the wagon sat together by grade, and the food at each table was the same, cooked by the senior students who had no classes for the second half of the morning, as arranged by the class schedule.

"I heard that George and Fred and their grade cooked the lunch today."

At the table, Ron looked at a sausage on his plate with a disgusted look on his face.

"It must be Fred's work, he fries sausages like this at home, they're all mushy, and he always justifies it by saying that's how he likes them whenever Ginny reprimands him loudly."

Jon didn't think much of it, the only thing that tasted a bit stale in lunch was the fried sausage, but the rest of it, like the pumpkin gravy, the fried egg and the fried steak, all tasted fine.

Despite living in exile, the food at Hogwarts was not shabby, with all the meat and vegetables available to meet the nutritional needs of the growing children on the wagon.

Later in the afternoon, it was Professor Flitwick's Charms class.

Professor Flitwick did not intend to teach them any specific spells for the first few classes and taught them how to pronounce incantations, how to wield a wand, and what to do when casting a spell.

These are the basics for learning a spell, and they are essential to learn if they want to avoid making serious mistakes later on when they formally start learning the spell.

The Charms class was their last class of the day.

After packing up their bags and leaving the classroom, Jon and the class agreed to meet at the kitchen door in 10 minutes, as they had been assigned to help the fourth year with dinner today.

After placing their bags back in the dormitory and changing their clothes, the five of them knocked on the kitchen door promptly.

The person who opened the door for them was a boy with equally red hair as Ron, he had glasses on his face and his expression looked unsmiling.

"The first years are helping with dinner today?" After seeing Jon and the group, the boy visibly frowned, "Actually, I've been meaning to mention to Professor McGonagall that the first years are still too young to offer much help in the kitchen other than adding a mess."

"Why don't you guys head over to the storage room and bring in two bags of potatoes and a basket of onions, I hope you won't mess up even this little thing."

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