Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures

Chapter 932: Bad Courses

Umbridge looked around from her desk, observing them all.

“I believe you are all aware that there are many problems with this course. You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centered, Ministry approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please.”

She rapped the blackboard again; the first message vanished and was replaced by:

Course aims:

1. Understanding the principles underlying

defensive magic.

2. Learning to recognize situations in which

defensive magic can legally be used.

3. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context

for practical use.

For a couple of minutes the room was full of the sound of scratching quills on parchment. When everyone had copied down Professor Umbridge’s three course aims she said, “Has everybody got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?”

“Yes, that’s right!” There was a dull murmur of assent throughout the class.

“That won’t do, class, that won’t do at all. I think we’ll try that again,” said Professor Umbridge. “When I ask you a question, I should like you to reply ‘Yes, Professor Umbridge,’ or ‘No, Professor Umbridge.’ So, has everyone got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?”

“Yes, Professor Umbridge,” rang through the room.

“Good,” said Professor Umbridge. “I should like you to turn to page five and read chapter one, ‘Basics for Beginners.’ There will be no need to talk. If you finish reading, please proceed to the next chapter.”

A noisy discussion echoed in the classroom. It was a double period of Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons combined together.

Considering Umbridge’s words, did she expect them to sit here reading the book all morning?

“Quiet!” said Umbridge, showing her small, pointed teeth. “We’re reading just now, so if you have any queries we can deal with them at the end of class. Also, I expect you to raise your hand when asking questions in my classroom.”

She stared at them all with those pouchy toad’s eyes, and the classroom fell silent instantly.

Evan wouldn’t confront Umbridge overtly in class, and had nothing to talk to her about. He turned to page five of his copy of Defensive Magical Theory, which was, as expected, desperately dull; first systematically expounding what Dark Magic was, and the corresponding Defense Against the Dark Arts, that was, White Magic.

Black magic and White magic, the distinction between the two was not as obvious as black and white.

According to the perspective of the book’s author, Wilbert Slinkhard, whether it was Dark magic or White magic, they were different techniques and ideas for controlling one’s own spiritual power. For example, using Avada Kedavra required intense malice and murderous intent, while using the Patronus Charm required the user to think of happy things, generate pleasant emotions, or have a strong protective mindset.

These things were already very basic for Evan, and the explanations in this book were very long-winded and boring, full of esoteric and long sentences. It was quite as bad as listening to Professor Binns. He found himself drifting away and thinking about other things.

The classroom was silent, and next to Evan, Colin was absent-mindedly staring at the same spot on the page.

Many students had not flipped a page for a long time, but Umbridge seemed unconcerned.

She settled herself in the chair behind the teacher’s desk, observing all the young wizards, one by one; not clear what her thoughts were.

While Evan and his classmates had their noses stuck in their books the entire morning, Harry and the others had just finished a mind-numbing History of Magic class. Professor Binns droned on about Giant Wars for a full hour and a half.

In another’s teacher’s hands, this subject might have been mildly interesting, but Professor Binns, their ghost teacher, lectured them in his wheezy, droning voice.

Why not just let them read the book by themselves?

Probably, Hermione alone seemed able to resist the soporific power of Binns’s voice.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when they emerged from the History of Magic classroom.

“How would it be if I refused to lend you my notes this year?” Hermione asked coldly.

She was very dissatisfied with Harry and Ron’s behavior in class; they hadn’t been paying attention at all.

Ron kept passing notes to Lavender at first, and then spent the remaining time playing hangman on a corner of his parchment with Harry.

“We’d fail our O.W.L.s,” said Ron. “If you want that on your conscience, Hermione …”

“Well, you’d deserve it,” she snapped. “You don’t even try to listen to him, do you?”

“We do try,” said Ron. “We just haven’t got your brains or your memory or your concentration … you and Evan are just cleverer than we are … is it nice to rub it in?

“Oh, don’t give me that rubbish,” said Hermione, but she looked slightly mollified. “I wonder how it went for Evan in his first class with that woman. What do you reckon she taught them?”

“Maybe like Moody, show everyone the Dark Arts?”

“That’s impossible. She’s not Mad-Eye. She won’t do such a crazy thing. It’s not allowed by the Ministry of Magic. Besides, don’t forget why she came to Hogwarts,” said Hermione. “She’s here on behalf of Fudge to interfere at Hogwarts, and she won’t really teach us any skills.”

“I don’t know, but if she conducts actual combat drills, Evan will definitely have a chance to teach her a lesson,” said Harry.

They continued discussing the topic until Snape walked into the dungeon, causing them to quickly close their mouths and fall silent.

The moment the class had seen Snape, quiet had fallen and all fidgeting stopped. Snape’s mere presence was usually enough to ensure a class’s silence.

Harry originally thought that since Snape was also a member of the Order of the Phoenix, it would be better to be more or less right with them.

But he quickly realized how wrong he was, far off the mark.

“Before we begin today’s lesson,” said Snape, sweeping over to his desk and staring around at them all, “I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of this class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an ‘Acceptable’ in your O.W.L., or suffer my … displeasure.”

His gaze lingered this time upon Neville, who gulped in horror.

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