Chapter 26: Self-Study
After the discussion with Snape, which had been temporarily resolved, Ezio obtained what he wanted. Although using Harry to threaten Snape was somewhat despicable, the process didn't matter; what mattered was the result. In this regard, Ezio was an orthodox Slytherin.
After a short break, the second class was about to begin. With the exception of Ezio, almost all the young wizards had high expectations for the upcoming Defence Against the Dark Arts class.
The classroom was located on the third floor of the castle, a spacious tiered lecture hall with a large open area at the front, convenient for the professor to use teaching props for demonstrations. Unfortunately, these once-useful arrangements would go unused this year.
Slightly different from the other professors, Quirrell had already arrived before most of the young wizards. He was sitting in his seat, giving the students an awkward and somewhat unnatural smile, his body stiff, as if he didn't know where to put his hands.
Quirrell had been an outstanding student who had graduated from Ravenclaw House. His grades at school had been excellent, which was why he had been given this position. But regrettably, the Quirrell who had returned to Hogwarts was a far cry from the student he had once been. He had originally been a bit shy but was a good student who loved to study magic and was keen on practical application. But now...
The pungent, thick smell of garlic tormented everyone's noses, but the real torture began after the class started.
"H-h-hello..." After the class began, Quirrell rose from his chair and spoke with a stutter. He didn't take attendance; perhaps Quirrell knew that taking attendance would be too difficult for him. At his current speaking speed, finishing the roll call would mean the class was about to end.
Slytherin's Defence Against the Dark Arts class was shared with Ravenclaw. Next to Ezio and Harry sat Hermione, clad in her Ravenclaw robes with blue accents, sitting perfectly straight.
Having been thoroughly humbled on the train and stripped of all her arrogance, Hermione had vowed to surpass Ezio. Ravenclaw, with its focus on learning, had become her first choice. After all, Ravenclaw had its own small library, which even contained books not found in the main library, left behind by previous students.
"T-t-turn your b-books... to the f-first... f-first... chapter."
Quirrell swallowed hard. Being stared at by dozens of pairs of eyes, his nervousness was palpable, even more so than before the class had started.
"We will l-learn... to r-recognize..." He suddenly paused, then, somewhat comically, turned around, picked up the book from his desk, and flipped it open to the first page.
Many of the young wizards rolled their eyes. It seemed their professor had forgotten what he was supposed to teach in the first lesson. A low murmur of discussion began to spread through the classroom as students whispered to each other, but Quirrell didn't address it. Or rather, he was powerless to?
Fortunately, compared to Gryffindor, the students of Slytherin and Ravenclaw were relatively less curious. They wouldn't ask questions in class like, "Professor, why do you smell so strongly of garlic?" and then try to pry into his affairs.
After opening the book, Quirrell seemed to calm down a lot. He began to stammer his way through the text, like a broken record player, stumbling over the dry words that everyone could read with their own eyes. As a first-year Defence Against the Dark Arts textbook, its contents were unremarkable, mostly talking about the dangers of dark magic and introducing common household pests and small beasts, like Doxies, garden gnomes, and the like.
After about five or six minutes, Quirrell finally stumbled through the first section of the first chapter. He wiped the nervous sweat from his face and once again gave an awkward smile.
Just as Quirrell raised his cup to take a sip of water and wet his throat, Ezio, who had been politely listening to the terrible lesson for several minutes, stood up.
"Is... is... there... s-something... you need?" Quirrell turned his gaze to Ezio and asked with a stammer.
"I'd like to know one thing," Ezio said calmly. He hadn't held out any hope from the beginning, so there was no disappointment to speak of. The side effects of being possessed by Voldemort were too great, so great that this man who could have been their teacher had been reduced to his current state of intellectual and physical disability.
"Did we come to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom just to listen to you stammer your way through the textbook?"
Ezio's cold and indifferent gaze fixed on Quirrell, which seemed to frighten him. His hand went slack, and the cup fell to the floor with a clatter. The sound drew everyone's attention.
"Of... of... course... n-not... maybe... I..." Quirrell, at a loss on the stage, swallowed hard. He waved his hands frantically, wanting to say something, but not knowing what to say.
"Then you're wasting my time, aren't you." Ezio shook his head and left his seat. "If you can't teach us anything and can only stumble through a book."
"Slytherins," Ezio turned to look at the seats beside him. "Let's go. There's no need to waste time here. Let's find a classroom with fresh air and self-study the first chapter. Everyone will hand in a reading summary to Professor Quirrell before next week."
"I imagine," Ezio turned his head to look at Quirrell, who was clutching his fingers, not knowing where to put his hands, "that this will also lighten your burden and improve learning efficiency. You shouldn't have any objections, right?"
The little Slytherin snakes beside him let out a series of snickers. Quirrell's face flushed red, and he stood there muttering, unable to speak. At a glance, it looked as if Ezio was leading the students to bully an idiot.
"Ezio, how could you!" Hermione, ever the good student, spoke up with dissatisfaction. The little girl had one great quality: she always dared to say what others did not.
"If you like his teaching style, I don't mind you being his sole audience. You've already memorized the textbook, haven't you, Hermione? Why don't you go up to the stage and read for Quirrell? At least the pace would be much faster."
"Hanging around with idiots makes you dumber."
Ezio's words were blunt. The little snakes all stood up and followed behind him. Since someone was taking the lead, they certainly weren't willing to stay here and be pickled by the smell of garlic.
"You... you..." This public humiliation, which offered not a shred of dignity, naturally stung Quirrell's already tormented heart. He pointed a trembling finger at Ezio.
"What is it? Have you finally decided that you want to teach us some real course material?" As he was about to reach the door, Ezio turned and took a few steps forward. "If that's the case, then I don't mind offering you a sincere apology. But the premise is that you have to teach us something real, not just read from a book. I don't think there's anyone in this classroom who can't even recognize the words in the book, right?"
Ezio turned his head to look at the little snakes. "Crabbe! Goyle!"
The two big oafs, whose names had been called, froze for a moment, then shouted, "Yes!"
After being taken down by Ezio that day and having a good long sleep, even if their brains weren't sharp, they had realized that Ezio was not someone to be provoked. After all, even Marcus, who was several sizes larger than them, had been taken down in an instant, writhing on the ground like a maggot. Neither of them wanted to get beaten up.
"Can you two read?"
"Probably..." The two big oafs looked at each other, then nodded hesitantly. "We think so."
"So, Professor Quirrell, have you decided how you are going to teach our first lesson?" Ezio cast a fixed gaze, but it made Quirrell feel uncomfortable all over, as if a knife was being drawn across his body, trying to decide which piece of flesh to cut.
Everything Quirrell was doing was intentional. Although he was possessed by Voldemort, the real situation was not yet that dire. But he had to play the fool to minimize his presence as much as possible. When everyone thought he was useless, fewer people would suspect that certain things were related to him. Quirrell desperately wanted to prove himself, but the person stuck to the back of his head wouldn't allow it. The more attention he received, the more his actions were restricted. On the contrary, what Ezio was doing right now was very much in line with the wishes of the Voldemort stuck to the back of his head.
"It seems you agree with my proposal, Professor." After waiting for a few seconds, Ezio spoke. "The Ravenclaws can come too, if you don't want to stay here and keep the garlic company."
Ezio left the classroom, followed by the little Slytherin snakes and some of the little Ravenclaw eagles who didn't want to deal with an idiot and wanted to find a place to read on their own.
"Since you have chosen to leave," Ezio said, slowing his pace after they had walked some distance, "that means you are willing to follow my arrangements. Defence Against the Dark Arts is a necessary course to learn, but the first-year content is not complex. I think everyone who has opened the book knows that. But that is not a reason for us not to study it. I hope you all remember that."
"I did not lead you out of the classroom to let you skip class. I hope you remember this point. If anyone plays around in the new classroom and does not complete the tasks I assign, I will make you experience the feeling of irreversible regret."
He spoke coldly, and his words, as they entered people's ears, couldn't help but make them shiver. Ezio always managed to exude an invisible sense of pressure, a kind of indifference that came from him, as if he were looking at a corpse. No one wanted to be stared at by those eyes.
"Before you enter the new classroom, you have one last chance to turn back. At least in that classroom full of the smell of garlic, Quirrell won't care if you are sleeping or daydreaming."
Stopping at the door of an empty classroom, Ezio turned to face the people in front of him.
No one moved. Not even Crabbe and Goyle, who definitely wouldn't be able to learn anything, stood their ground. They actually quite wanted to go back, because Ezio had said Quirrell wouldn't care even if they slept. But they were afraid of being singled out and beaten up by Ezio, of falling into a peaceful slumber in the corridor. That was too terrifying.
"Very good. Then go in."
The empty classroom was filled with haphazardly placed spare desks and chairs, covered in a thick layer of dust. There were countless such unused rooms in Hogwarts. The place was simply too big; magic had expanded its space. Hogwarts could accommodate ten times its current student population without feeling the slightest bit crowded.
Under the watchful eyes of the young wizards, Ezio drew his wand and waved it a few times. The dust was swept away, the damaged desks and chairs were repaired and arranged in neat rows. In just a few breaths, the filthy classroom became clean. The curtains were drawn open, and sunlight streamed into the room. The warm afternoon sun brought a pleasant comfort, and a gentle breeze blew through. It was an ideal self-study classroom.
After everyone had found a place to sit, Ezio stood at the front.
"Now then, I will briefly explain. From now on, our Defence Against the Dark Arts class will be a self-study session here. However, it will not be self-study forever. Defence Against the Dark Arts, as the name suggests, is to teach us how to correctly deal with the dark wizards, dark magic, and dangerous creatures that exist in the wizarding world. The purpose of this defence class is to teach us how to resist these unknown risks and protect ourselves."
"That is the meaning of this class's existence. However, due to certain reasons, the teaching of Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts has been in a very unstable state for a long time. The quality of the professors has been uneven. I am not surprised that someone like Quirrell has managed to sneak in this year."
"The Dark Lord cursed this position, didn't he?" a blond Ravenclaw boy asked, raising his hand.
"Yes. There is a rumor that Voldemort once wanted to teach at Hogwarts, but Professor Dumbledore refused him. Professor Dumbledore believed that his purpose in coming to Hogwarts was not pure. And subsequent events proved that if Voldemort had come to Hogwarts, the possibility of him cultivating his own followers was higher than the possibility of him teaching."
After the name 'Voldemort' was spoken, a cold draft seemed to fill the classroom, but Ezio paid it no mind, nor did he care about the reactions of the young wizards.
"If you don't want to be killed by Voldemort on the street one day while you're out shopping, I hope you will take your study of Defence Against the Dark Arts seriously."
Startled by Ezio's words, they became even more obedient.
"Since you are all new to the study of magic, the first month of the term will be mainly focused on self-studying the textbook. You will submit a reading summary of your self-study every week. If your brain cannot support you in completing the homework I assign, then before the next self-study session begins, certain individuals had better voluntarily get lost. Otherwise, I will hang you up and make you eat the textbook page by page. If there are still words on the parchment that you shit out, I will make you reabsorb it."
Some of them shivered. They swore that from the next class onwards, they would get out of Ezio's sight and absolutely not cross him.
"One month to finish self-studying the textbook. It's not difficult. In the second month, when we have all begun to learn charms, the Defence Against the Dark Arts self-study session will incorporate spell practice. Some of you may think that the spells taught in the first year have no ability to fight against danger or protect yourselves, but I will tell you that this is wrong."
"Wingardium Leviosa," Ezio's wand pointed at the lecturer's desk. "Depulso!"
With a dull 'thud', the sturdy-looking old desk was slammed down from the air, turning into a pile of scattered and twisted wood. This made many people's eyes light up with excitement.
"These are all first-year spells. But if you learn how to use them correctly, they can protect you in certain situations."
"No talking. If anyone does not meet my requirements after a month, those people can also get lost."
The excited chatter that had just begun came to an abrupt halt. Looking at Ezio, who stood at the front, stricter than many of their professors, they chose to nod obediently. After all, their professors might not dare to actually hit them, but they believed with ten thousand percent certainty that Ezio really would.
*****
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