The snow keeps falling. Every time Anthony looked out the window, he could see snowflakes swirling and falling. The ground was covered with a thick layer of white snow, and the fir trees around the school were weighed down so that their branches drooped until the snow slipped from the overwhelmed branches and made a small crater in the snow. The black lake was frozen solid again, and thick snow covered it. It was almost impossible to tell which part was the lake and which part was the lawn.
Fires were blazing in the fireplaces throughout the castle, crackling and illuminating the walls. But the cold seeped in from every crack in the masonry, and the cold wind passing through the corridor made all the students unwilling to stay there for a long time. Since it was just as cold inside the castle as outside, many people simply went outside to have a snowball fight. Their ears and noses were red from the cold, and puffs of white air came out of their mouths and noses. They even forgot the class time while playing.
Christmas is getting closer, and students are looking forward to the holiday. Few of them are in the mood to go to class.
Seeing that everyone was distracted, Anthony simply organized a midterm test.
"I can guarantee that the difficulty is basically the same as what you will encounter at the end of the semester. By the way, the old rule is, don't check the answers with other classes in advance." Anthony said when handing out the parchment, "Like other tests, they will not be counted in the final assessment. There are no grades, but there are rewards for doing well."
His set of test questions was shown to Professor Burbage in advance, and she assured him that there were no problems with the scope and difficulty of his questions.
"I have presided over the compilation of the exam syllabus for the past ten years." Professor Burbage joked with a hint of pride, "If my prediction is wrong, I will resign and go back to be an examiner. Hogwarts can be left to you to teach , Henry, we will work together very well."
…
"What's the reward this time, professor?" the student asked with a smile. They all noticed that there were no snacks on the podium today.
Anthony smiled: "Secret. If you're lucky, you'll find out when you get back at Christmas."
"Is it a Christmas tree filled with Muggle gifts?" someone speculated.
"I wish it was a record of Muggle Christmas songs..."
"Santa Claus! I hear Muggles believe in that!"
"An Eskimo house? Are we going to have classes in an igloo, Professor?"
Anthony had to tell them regretfully that he would not say anything. Life always needs a little surprise, especially around Christmas.
The students who had their appetites aroused had no choice but to answer the questions as best they could. Since teaching, Anthony has gained a good reputation among students with a little help from Honeydukes. None of the rewards he promised has been broken.
…
When Anthony took the collected test back to the office, curious students were still pestering him, trying to ask something.
The "surprises" in the past have often been prepared. Even if he refuses to tell them in advance, Anthony will immediately conjure some from under the podium, outside the window, inside the hat - all kinds of unexpected places - after they complete the task. Gadgets, handed to them with a smile.
This was the first time that Anthony didn't tell them the specific content of the reward, and they still haven't guessed what it might be.
"I really can't say." Anthony raised his hands in surrender, "I'm not sure yet. I have to write several reports before I can tell you the results. I can only say that judging from your performance in class, everyone should like it."
Cedric had a sudden thought: "Professor, do you want to give us two hundred points? That really requires a report."
Anthony was shocked: "No!" He stared at the whimsical student, "Slytherin already has no points. I will add another 200 points to the three houses. What do you want Slytherin to do?"
"Slytherin will hate Professor Anthony to death." A student nodded, "They are already so diligent that I am impressed."
While being judged as "hard-working" might have been an unconscious insult to the proud Slytherin student, Anthony had to admit that he had a point. At least in the Hufflepuff context, this student paid respect to the Slytherin students.
"Okay, let's go back. Is the next class about to start? Not a single guess is correct." Anthony waved his hands to them, "I hope you will have better luck answering the questions than now."
Cedric smiled and said, "I wasn't just guessing."
"I know." Anthony looked helplessly at the top of the class, "Go back quickly, you will be late. Merry Christmas, Diggory."
His students waved to him: "Merry Christmas, Professor Anthony!"
One student shouted: "If the award is not approved, remember to make up for our Christmas gifts!"
"I know, I know, Merry Christmas! Hey, run slower, before Peeves -" with a snap, a student slipped on the ice disguised as stone bricks, "-it seems to have done something there. "
The student who was wrapped up tightly was fine. He was pulled up by his classmates and continued to run wildly in the corridor.
Anthony watched them run away, took out his keys and was about to open the door, when the office door behind him suddenly opened with a creak. Professor Quirrell stood at the door, holding on to the door frame and looking at him. He didn't know how long he listened behind the door.
"The students like you very much," Quirrell said.
Anthony looked at him twice. Not to mention the level of teaching - Professor Bubaji's meaningful smile and shake of the head is enough to explain the problem - Professor Quirrell was once a professor of Muggle Studies after all. Now that he sees that the newly hired Anthony is very popular, he can't help but feel a little emotional. .
It was also hard for Anthony not to notice that the students didn't particularly like their new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. His stammering, somewhat nervous teaching style, weird purple headscarf and lingering smell of garlic all hindered students from discovering his true talents.
To Anthony's surprise, even some professors seemed unaware of Professor Quirrell's abilities. He had many classmates like this during his undergraduate days. They look like weirdos, but they are actually very smart and achieve great results. They just suffer from not being able to make reports, and the final evaluation score is often just "good".
"I have better luck." Anthony comforted, "I am an elective course professor. Students choose courses only if they are interested. And with the help of Professor Burbage, I only have to teach two grades, so the teaching task is lighter. "
Professor Quirrell shook his head and said: "You are very powerful. Both professors and students believe in you - they trust you."
"Ah, thank you." Anthony responded blankly.
Professor Quirrell nodded and silently closed the door. Anthony stared at his office door—a painting of garlic—puzzlingly for a while, shook his head, and went back to his office.
Maybe Quirrell was just trying to show kindness. Maybe he'd had a drink - who knows, underneath the garlic smell, Anthony doubted he could smell it, no matter how much he drank.