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Chapter 931: Umbridge\'s First Lesson

“What?” Harry urged, everyone looking at him.

“Well, it would be cool to be an Auror,” said Ron in an offhand voice.

“Yeah, it would,” said Harry fervently, “it’s the best job ever.”

“But they’re, like, the elite,” said Ron. “You’ve got to be really good. What about you, Colin?”

“I thought it would be great to be a photographer!” said Colin, “to shoot for Hogwarts Magic News.”

“You’re already doing that,” said Ron dismissively. “What about you, Hermione?”

“I’m not quite sure yet, I have too many ideas,” said Hermione. “In any case, I think I’d really like to do something worthwhile…”

She paused for a moment, not finishing her sentence. In fact, it would be even better if she could be with Evan!

“An Auror’s worthwhile!” said Harry.

“Yes, it is, but it’s not the only worthwhile thing,” said Hermione thoughtfully. “I mean, if I could take S.P.E.W. further … “

Everyone fell silent, careful to avoid looking at her in the eyes.

Breakfast ended with this, and Harry, Hermione, and Ron set off toward their boring History of Magic classroom.

Evan and Colin went to the second floor for the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, which was Umbridge’s first class at Hogwarts.

Evan wasn’t sure if Umbridge scheduled the fourth year class on Monday because of him.

One thing he was certain of was that he had no expectations for Professor Umbridge’s Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

As expected, when he and Colin entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom they found Professor Umbridge already seated at the teacher’s desk, wearing the fluffy pink cardigan of the night before and the black velvet bow on top of her head, looking like a large fly perched unwisely on top of an even larger toad.

“Hello, Evan Mason, nice to see you again!” she said in a sickeningly sweet voice.

“Hello, Professor!” said Evan cautiously, he was not pleased at all.

“Oh, please take a seat quickly. We’re about to start class!” Professor Umbridge had a fake smile on her face, as if she and Evan were very familiar and intimate. “We’ll have plenty of time to talk later.”

Evan sat down and saw Ginny make a face at him.

The class was quiet as it entered the room; Professor Umbridge was, as yet, an unknown quantity and nobody knew yet how strict a disciplinarian she was likely to be. They knew nothing about her, and it was better to be careful.

“Well, good morning, class!” she said when finally the whole class had sat down.

“Good morning, Professor!” The answers were scattered and casual.

“Tut, tut,” said Professor Umbridge. “That won’t do, now, will it? You should have learned the proper etiquette and I should like you, please, to reply ‘Good morning, Professor Umbridge.’ One more time, please. Good morning, class!”

“Good morning, Professor Umbridge.” Evan opened his mouth, but did not make a sound.

“The sound was not neat enough, nor loud enough!” said Umbridge critically. “Class, please do it again.”

They silently exchanged a look of surprise and unease.

Based on Professor Umbridge’s demeanor, if their greetings didn’t satisfy her, they might be practicing for the whole lesson.

Finally, they chanted it back at her, and some of them even shouted it out.

“There, now,” said Professor Umbridge sweetly. “That wasn’t too difficult, was it? I hope that from now on, before every class, everyone can do this. It’s the most basic respect for teachers. Now; wands away and quills out, please.”

Hearing her words, many of the class exchanged gloomy looks again.

The order “wands away” had never yet been followed by a lesson they had found interesting.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts class had always focused on practical combat. Without wands, were they supposed to deal with dark wizards using quills?

After the whole class shoved their wands back inside their bags and pulled out quill, ink, and parchment. Professor Umbridge opened her handbag, extracted her own wand, which was an unusually short one, and tapped the blackboard sharply with it.

Two lines of words appeared on the board at once:

Defense Against the Dark Arts

A Return to Basic Principles.

“Class, I’m sure you’ve all had the same doubts. Your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn’t it?” stated Professor Umbridge, turning to face the class with her hands clasped neatly in front of her, and then said, “I have checked your course materials and related homework and test papers for the past few years, and all I can say is that they’re all rubbish. You’ve wasted three years for nothing, not learning any useful Defense Against the Dark Arts. There has been constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum… “

In front of her, the students quietly exchanged glances again, not knowing what Umbridge meant.

Did she mean to say that they had been wasting their time for the past three years?

That might have been true for the year with Lockhart, but honestly, Lupin and Sirius taught them quite well. They taught them legitimate Defense Against the Dark Arts. Even the fake Moody showed them what real Dark magic was. As for the classes they had attended in the first half of this year, after the real Moody returned, they realized that was the real Auror.

They all felt that they had improved a lot. Wasn’t it too much to say that they had learned nothing and that the homework and test papers taught were rubbish?

Besides, there was Evan in their class, who was now recognized as the most powerful young wizard in Hogwarts.

Unlike those who were becoming somewhat angered by Umbridge’s words, Evan didn’t feel much. He wasn’t Harry and wouldn’t recklessly jump out in class and confront Umbridge, clearly giving her an excuse and an opportunity to punish him.

At least openly, everyone should abide by the rules.

Umbridge was their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, the Ministry’s watchdog at Hogwarts. They couldn’t directly confront her, and it wasn’t the time to face her. But behind the scenes …

Evan sniffed and put on an expression of an attentive and studious student, concentrating on listening. He felt like he was becoming more and more devious!

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