New Defense Against The Dark Arts Professor

After Christmas, the first Defense Against the Dark Arts class for the first years arrived.

Except for the Slytherin students, everyone else present looked dejected.

The weekly Potions class was already torture, but they hadn't expected to have two more Defense Against the Dark Arts classes.

Given Snape's current demeanor, he might go crazy in the Defense Against the Dark Arts class as well.

Even if Quirrell didn't teach any useful knowledge and just read the textbook verbatim, it would be better than being tortured by Snape's class.

Bang!

There was a muffled sound from the classroom door.

Only Snape had this habit at Hogwarts.

Snape strode into the classroom, waving his wand repeatedly as the windows of the classroom closed one after another.

In an instant, the whole classroom became dim.

Then he pulled down a white cloth that looked like a projection screen. Ethan had never seen Professor Quirrell use it.

Snape walked with an air of authority today, which showed that he was in a good mood, though Ethan didn't know if it meant he'd gotten a pay raise.

Coming to the podium, Snape's hawk-like eyes swept around the classroom, and then he slowly said:

"Turn to page 137!"

Although Snape hadn't taught with Quirrell much, he couldn't start from the beginning, as there wasn't enough time.

He explained about different creatures and asked questions from the students, and as usual, Gryffindor got their points deducted while Slytherin got rewarded.

Soon, class was halfway through!

"Next, it's time for you to practice!"

As he said that, Snape directly picked up a cage covered with black cloth from behind the podium and placed it on the podium.

And under everyone's gaze, he lifted the black cloth.

Whether from fright or some other reason, the creature in the cage suddenly flew up, buzzing loudly, causing the cage to shake left and right.

To be honest, this was much better than Quirrell's lectures. Of course, it would be even better if Snape could change his personality.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts class mainly teaches how to defend against dark magic and the harm of magical creatures.

It's not like Quirrell, who reads from a book without explanation or practice. That class is basically useless.

The Pixie, an XXX-level creature, is small and humanoid, with wings similar to a beetle's—thick, curved into an arc, and shiny. Covered in bright blue skin, the Pixie has mischievous eyes and sharp teeth, although not poisonous. Despite its small size, the Pixie possesses extraordinary agility and a fierce temperament.

In addition, this creature has a chaotic nature and loves to create mischief, often wreaking havoc wherever it goes. It is not known for its reproductive abilities, but its ability to swarm and cause disruption is well-documented.

Ethan had encountered Pixies before while patrolling the Forbidden Forest. He had heard stories about their troublesome nature but had a slightly whimsical image of them in his mind before seeing the real thing. However, that fantasy was quickly shattered after his first encounter.

Far from the charming, mischievous sprite he imagined, the Pixie was more of a tiny terror. Not cute in the slightest, it was instead a bundle of chaos wrapped in a small, blue, winged form.

"Immobulus!"

A string of fire suddenly flashed from Snape's wand, hitting the frightened Pixie in the cage with precision.

The Pixie fell down with a "pop," as if all the strength had drained out of it, lying limp and motionless.

"The spell is very simple. Focus, make your goal clear, and chant the spell clearly..."

Snape gave seven or eight points to pay attention to. "Potter, come up and demonstrate for everyone!"

Snape threw a red light at the Pixie.

The moment it was hit, the Pixie immediately became lively, but it didn't dare to hit the cage anymore.

Instead, it shrank into a corner of the cage.

As a magical creature, even if it's only XXX level and has a small brain, it still has some intelligence. "Yes, Professor!"

Harry came forward with a bitter expression. It was happening again.

He knew that Snape would take any opportunity to mess with him, but it was also his father's fault.

"Emmobulus!"

Harry took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and swung his wand with all his might.

"Wrong pronunciation, Gryffindor, ten points off!"

Snape looked at Harry with disdain. Why is Lily's son like this? He really didn't inherit her talent at all.

Potions weren't his strong suit, and now his spellcasting was also lacking.

"Professor, I still have a way to deal with it!"

Harry took a deep breath and looked at Snape seriously.

"Since you have a way, then show it!"

Snape didn't dismiss Harry right away. He'd come to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts partly because he really wanted to teach this class.

On the other hand, he wanted Harry to improve his skills. After all, Harry would encounter a lot of trouble in the future.

Harry's face lit up with excitement as he took out two Beretta 92F pistols from his waist.

The young wizards below were instantly excited. They recognized what this was. Only the purebloods were still a little confused, not knowing what Harry had taken out.

Ethan was dumbfounded. No, Harry, are you serious!

"Put that away! Who told you to bring that to Hogwarts? Gryffindor will lose 50 points!"

The veins on Snape's forehead couldn't help throbbing. His father was a Muggle, so he naturally knew about pistols.

But isn't this thing strictly controlled?

How did Harry get it? And how dare he bring it to Hogwarts!

If he'd had a pistol back in the day, he would have shot James and his friends to death.

"Professor, one shot is all it takes to kill the Pixie!"

Harry tried to explain, feeling it was much more useful than a wand.

"Get down!"

Snape stared at Harry with a stern face.

He knew that this could indeed kill the Pixie with one shot, but if he wasn't careful, he could be shot to death himself.

Moreover, Snape had already made up his mind to tell Professor McGonagall to take the pistol away, otherwise, Harry would cause trouble sooner or later.

The reason he didn't take it away now was that Snape feared Harry might be provoked into accidentally firing it. Although he could block it with magic, the students below couldn't.

"Cassandra, come up and try!"

Cassandra, whose name was called, stepped forward gracefully.

"Immobulus!"

As the spell ended, the Pixie in the cage fell to the ground.

"Slytherin, ten points!"

Snape announced loudly again, his efforts rewarded.

It can be said that Snape single-handedly lifted Slytherin's house points from last place to second. Ravenclaw was difficult to deduct points from, while the other two houses were hit the hardest by his deductions.

Next, Snape selected a few students from each house to come up and try, but there were no more bonus or deduction points.

Otherwise, he would have deducted all the points from the other houses in one day, and Snape feared the other deans would block his office door.

"Longbottom, come forward!"

It was Gryffindor's turn, and Snape could only pick the best of the worst. Ronald, the boy who took Harry's side, didn't appeal to him, and Snape had heard of Seamus's reputation.

Few of the remaining young wizards seemed promising.

"Immobulus!"

Neville stepped forward, trembling, closing his eyes and waving his wand uncertainly.

Snape suddenly felt his legs go weak, and he collapsed in front of all the students.

Is this the curse of the Defense Against the Dark Arts class?

I'm such a fool, truly!

Why did I ever apply to teach the Defense Against the Dark Arts class?

I wouldn't be in this embarrassing situation if I hadn't taken on this class!

Knowing Longbottom was incompetent, I still let him come up, and didn't even prepare for it!

Hasn't the potion disaster at the start of the year taught me anything about what kind of student he is?

At this moment, Snape wanted to slap himself.

"Gryffindor, ten points deducted!"

Snape roared hoarsely, and freed himself from the effects of the spell.

It could only be said that Neville's magic was not strong enough. If he were more skilled, it wouldn't have just been weak legs. Snape would have been flat on the ground, unable to even lift his wand.

At that point, the students wouldn't have been able to reverse the spell, and they'd have had to carry him to the hospital wing. From the classroom to the hospital wing, how many people would see him like that? That would be true social death.

Neville looked at Snape carefully, then walked back to his seat with a defeated expression.

Sure enough, he had no talent.

But when Neville sat down, he suddenly noticed that everyone was looking at him as if he were a hero.

Especially the Gryffindors—their admiration, encouragement, and recognition were things he had never seen before.

However, Snape had learned his lesson this time. He took a few steps back and gripped his wand tightly.

His eyes scanned the Gryffindor students. He knew that if he couldn't control the situation after this incident, there would be more and more such episodes in the future.

As for whether it was intentional or accidental—well, it could be said it was both!

Snape knew Gryffindor students very well.

Fortunately, nothing else happened. When the class ended, Snape assigned homework and left in a hurry.

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