Friday morning.
The Hufflepuff freshmen finally had their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class.
The classroom was located in a corner on the third floor. When the first young wizard arrived, he repeatedly confirmed that he hadn't gone to the wrong place before cautiously entering.
The classroom was very dark, with only a small window that was tightly closed, and the room was filled with an indescribable strange smell.
After arriving, Wayne subconsciously frowned.
Just as he was about to open the window, Quirrell arrived.
“Don't... don't open it, this is good, this is good.”
“Professor, I'm here for class, not to absorb toxic gas.” Wayne said displeasedly, and some of the young wizards started laughing.
But they quickly covered their mouths.
They weren't afraid of being caught and reprimanded by the professor, but because after Quirrell entered, he brought with him a strong smell of garlic, making the smell in the classroom even more unbearable.
“I... I met a... a reanimated zombie in Dark Africa, and I was cursed, I can't be exposed to wind.” Quirrell stammered, and even pointed at the scarf on his head.
“This, this is a gift from the king... prince of a tribe.”
Reanimated zombie?
Many young wizards became interested.
The reanimated zombie, or the more commonly known reanimated corpse, is a mysterious religious product in the magical world. It is a kind of mysterious religious product in the magical world.
Every reanimated corpse is a living dead, a mindless, soulless walking corpse. Their attack power is not strong, but they have various uses.
They are essential sacrifices for Dark Wizards to practice dark magic.
“Professor, how did you subdue the reanimated zombie?” Justin Finch-Fletchley raised his hand and asked.
“This, this has nothing to do with this class.” Quirrell avoided the question, “Turn to page three, today we will learn how to avoid a… Kab… ”
“Come on, Professor, tell us about your experience.” Hannah asked again, but Quirrell ignored her and started lecturing in a mumbled way.
How should I say this?
He was even worse than Professor Binns.
Although Professor Binns’s speech was hypnotic, at least his articulation was clear, and it could serve as a bedtime story.
But Quirrell mumbled and couldn't even read smoothly. If you wanted to sleep, the smell in this room made it impossible to sleep.
For a while, everyone's most anticipated Defense Against the Dark Arts class became a two-hour torture session.
Wayne raised his hand.
“La, Laurence, do you have any... any questions?” Quirrell asked.
“Professor, I do have a question, a big one.” Wayne stood up: “I understand Professor Binns reading from the textbook, but if you're still reading from the textbook, what are we learning about Defense Against the Dark Arts?”
“Are we supposed to wield the textbook and bash a Kab with it?”
“Defense Against the Dark Arts, of course we need to learn spells. Can you tell us about the use of the Banishing Charm?”
His words were strongly supported by the students, and everyone began chattering.
Quirrell was scared and stammered an explanation that he wanted everyone to have more knowledge, and would teach them spells later.
In fact, he did teach.
After enduring for an hour, Quirrell wrote the spell for the Banishing Charm on the blackboard.
Then he ended the class.
Wayne spoke again: “Professor, can you demonstrate it for us?”
Quirrell hesitated for a long time, and used the reason that it was too dangerous to refuse.
Everyone was even more dissatisfied, a Banishing Charm, how dangerous could it be.
Seeing that the situation was out of control, Quirrell squeezed out a few tears from his flickering eyes, hugged his textbook and ran away, leaving a bunch of dumbfounded young wizards.
Wayne was also stunned.
He just wanted to earn some points, how did he make the guy cry?
It had been almost a week since he came to school. On the one hand, Wayne was getting familiar with the school, and on the other hand, he hadn’t found a suitable opportunity to earn points.
The other professors were worthy of his respect, and he couldn't bring himself to deliberately make trouble to earn points.
Only Quirrell, this guy pretended to be incompetent, and he was even Voldemort's human anchor. Wayne had no guilt at all bullying him.
In just one class, he had already earned more than a hundred points.
Just when Wayne was about to go on and earn two hundred points before resting.
Who would have thought that Quirrell's endurance was so poor that he actually ran away.
Who could he complain to?
There were no secrets at Hogwarts, and what happened in class spread immediately, the first to know were the other two colleges of the first years.
“Did you really make Professor Quirrell cry?”
At lunchtime, Hermione pulled Wayne to the Gryffindor table and asked curiously.
“No, what's wrong with these two?”
Without answering Hermione, Wayne looked at the two people beside her. Harry and Neville both had vacant eyes and numb expressions, looking like they had been played with.
“Don't mention it!”
Ron angrily put down his knife and fork, “Just now, Snape was like a badger chasing Harry in Potions class. He asked a bunch of questions about things we haven’t learned, and finally deducted two points from us when Harry couldn’t answer.”
“Granger's hand was raised to the ceiling, and he couldn't see it, is he blind?!”
Hermione glared at him unhappily.
What does it mean to raise her hand to the ceiling? Is she calling her a long-armed monster?
So they had Potions class…
Wayne wasn't surprised at all, he was actually surprised that Snape only deducted two points from them. That was too little.
“I have a way to help you avoid being targeted,” Wayne pondered for a moment and said.
Harry's eyelids twitched and he involuntarily looked over.
“Coach, I want to learn.”
“Ahem.” Wayne pretended to be profound, “When Snape was asking you questions, were you staring at him the whole time?”
Harry nodded vigorously.
This is a master, even he knows this.
“That's where you went wrong.” Wayne shook his head, “Think about it, when you hate someone, and they still look at you, it clearly means they don't give a damn, what would you do?”
Harry thought for a while: “I'll get angrier.”
Wayne clapped his hands: “That's right. Next time you encounter this situation, just bow your head and sincerely apologize. Even if the professor is still angry, there's nothing he can do, after all, you're so nice.”
Harry's eyes got brighter, and finally he said gratefully:
“Thank you, Wayne, otherwise I really wouldn't know what to do.”
“You're welcome.” Wayne smiled gently, “Remember, never look at Snape.”
With that, he walked away after the system prompted him that he had earned 50 points.