Professor Breen's First Lesson (Part Two)

The second class on Thursday morning was a Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson combined for fifth, sixth, and seventh years, once again held in the Great Hall.

Amosta had something special to tell these upper-year students, who had already received a certain degree of defensive magic education and were nearing graduation.

"—The prerequisite for defence is that the two sides must be evenly matched, or at least close in strength. For example, even if I told you everything I knew about dueling and defence, you probably wouldn't last more than three seconds against Headmaster Dumbledore!"

The upper-year students below erupted into laughter. Percy Weasley's girlfriend, Ravenclaw's Penelope Crewe, raised her hand and asked curiously,

"Then what about you, Professor Breen? Could you defeat Headmaster Dumbledore?"

"Don't ask questions that embarrass me, Miss Crewe!" Amosta curled his lip, then turned with a smile and walked to the other side.

"Among traditional school-of-magic wizards, there is a way of classifying strength. I think you can use it as a reference."

The Great Hall fell silent. More than two hundred pairs of curious eyes fixed on Professor Breen as he spoke with confidence.

"—You all know that some traditional school-of-magic wizards still train their successors one-on-one or in small groups. According to ancient custom, they call young wizards who are still receiving basic magical education 'Wizard Apprentices.' Broadly speaking, the peak of a Wizard Apprentice would correspond to a modern student who earns more than four O.W.L.S certificates."

The young wizards immediately brightened. Almost every student here could reach that standard, but Professor Breen's next remark promptly doused their excitement.

"Provided they earned those certificates with Outstanding grades—"

Percy's face flushed with pride as he lifted his chin. He was currently the only student at Hogwarts to earn O.W.L.S certificates in all twelve subjects with Outstanding grades. Without question, his overall ability had already surpassed the level of a Wizard Apprentice.

"Then what comes next, Professor? What is above a Wizard Apprentice?"

Amosta's novel explanation had captured everyone's interest. Marcus, the academic failure, was for the first time eager to learn something in class.

"Next comes a Journeyman Wizard, of course, Flint."

Amosta did not keep them in suspense and answered directly.

"But wizards at that level cover a very broad range. Compared with modern magical education, it would range from students who merely passed their O.W.L.S examinations all the way up to... well..."

Amosta pondered for a moment, then said uncertainly, "At the upper limit, perhaps the level of an elite Auror from the Ministry of Magic. Sorry, that may not be a particularly accurate comparison, since this was never a systematic classification."

No one cared about Professor Breen's apology. They only wanted to know more. Especially those young wizards with relatives working at the Ministry of Magic, who knew just how formidable elite Aurors were—they practically wanted to rush onto the stage and pry Professor Breen's mouth open.

"Please, go on, Professor!"

Percy, who had already been proven to be a Journeyman Wizard, forgot to maintain the dignity of a prefect and stared at Amosta expectantly.

"The peak of a Journeyman Wizard is probably the greatest achievement most people who study magic can attain in their lives. Beyond that lies territory ordinary people can scarcely reach. In ancient kingdoms, only those with extraordinary talent and a bit of luck could forge their own unique path in magic. Those people would be personally appointed by the royal family as 'Court Wizards.'"

Court Wizards!

The young wizards excitedly whispered among themselves, their discussions reaching a fever pitch. Many swore with complete certainty that, by Professor Breen's definition, one of their own relatives was a Court Wizard!

"—Professor Snape's mastery of Potions, Professor McGonagall's skill in Transfiguration, Professor Flitwick's flexible use of modern standard Charms, and Professor Sprout's wealth of herbological knowledge would all have earned them the respectful title of Court Wizard in ancient times!"

With that single sentence, smiling Professor Breen pushed the lively discussion in the Great Hall to an even greater height, and it did not die down for nearly ten minutes.

Gradually, however, the discussion drifted in a direction Amosta did not want to see. The young wizards of every house believed their own Head of House was unquestionably a Court Wizard, but thought rather little of the other three houses.

Severus Snape, in particular, received the fiercest criticism.

Students from Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff quietly accused Snape of doing nothing but boiling water in the dungeon, insisting that he did not deserve the honorable title of Court Wizard at all!

This infuriated the Slytherin students. Tall and broad Marcus Flint stood before all the Slytherins like a wall, fully displaying the aggressive style that served him so well on the Quidditch Pitch. He stepped onto his desk and glared viciously at those questioning Slytherin, as if ready to pounce and tear them apart at any moment!

"Flint, get off that desk before I lose my temper."

Amosta's calm, level tone instantly subdued Marcus, who had been baring his fangs and brandishing his claws just moments earlier. He obediently climbed down from the desk and sincerely apologized to Amosta.

". I only told you this so you would have a basic understanding. If you encounter danger in the future, don't blindly and foolishly charge at powerful wizards far beyond your own strength. I certainly did not tell you this so you could start fighting among yourselves."

The young wizards suddenly realized that, at Hogwarts, there was now another wizard besides Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape who possessed an imposing authority without even getting angry!

After silencing everyone with a gaze as weighty as the abyssal sea, Amosta nodded in satisfaction. "Now then, I think we should return to our previous topic and discuss in detail how to kill a Werewolf driven mad by the full moon. It's actually very simple. You only need to—"

"Professor Breen—"

At that moment, Miss Crewe, who had earlier asked whether Amosta could defeat Dumbledore, raised her hand again.

"Do you have another question, Miss Crewe?"

Amosta strolled over to the Ravenclaw students and looked at her gently, already guessing what this Ravenclaw with such a thirst for knowledge wanted to ask.

"You haven't finished yet, Professor Breen."

During the earlier commotion, Penelope had been stepped on several times. As she reached beneath the desk to rub her ankle and pouted, she truly looked adorable. At least, Percy in the Gryffindor section looked as though his heart were melting.

"Wizard Apprentice, Journeyman Wizard, Court Wizard... What comes next, Professor? Is there another level?"

"Oh!"

Amosta pretended he had only just remembered. He looked down at the students with an inscrutable smile, his gaze sweeping back and forth as though deliberately teasing them.

"Sorry, I forgot. There is indeed one more."

Then hurry up and say it!

Amosta read those words in quite a few people's eyes.

The dismissal bell had already rung. From the Great Hall's ceiling came the vibrations of hundreds of people stamping across the floorboards, and some of the quicker young wizards had already reached the second-floor railing and were looking down.

Hurry and tell us, Professor! Class is already over!

The young wizards in Defence Against the Dark Arts were no longer content to express their impatience with their eyes. They all stood up and urged him on in low voices.

At that moment, the crowd gathered on the second floor automatically parted, and Albus Dumbledore, always enthusiastic about meals, appeared on the Marble Staircase with a beaming smile.

"Saint—"

Amosta raised his head and nodded to Dumbledore, returning his smile.