The bustle of the Muggle world had nothing to do with the Wizarding World; wizards still went about their business as usual.
But for Hogwarts, every day after Umbridge's departure felt like a holiday, especially for Snape, who was once again filling in for Defense Against the Dark Arts.
He strode into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, his black robes billowing like a banner of victory.
He stepped onto the platform and lightly raised a hand, pointing at the stack of Magical Defence Theory books in the corner. "Remove that disgusting rubbish from my classroom."
The Little Badgers and Little Lions hurriedly tossed Umbridge's old textbooks into a box. The box did not look large, yet it swallowed an awful lot of books.
"Burp—" When Harry stuffed the last textbook into the box, it let out an especially loud belch.
Watching this, the corner of Snape's mouth actually curved upward by the faintest but unmistakable degree.
"Today," he said, sweeping his gaze around the classroom. His eyes even lingered briefly on the Little Lions, without their usual malice. "We will practise something that can genuinely save your miserable lives: a simple yet highly effective spell, the Leg-Locker Curse."
A wave of suppressed, excited whispers rose in the classroom. It was back—their Defense Against the Dark Arts class was finally back!
Snape drew his wand. "Now then, who would like to come up and demonstrate?"
To everyone's surprise, his seemingly casual glance landed precisely on Neville.
"Mr. Longbottom. Yes, you. Please come to the front."
Neville's face went deathly pale as he shakily rose to his feet.
To him, the open space in the middle of the classroom was practically an execution block.
"Do not worry, Mr. Longbottom." Snape stood beside him, his tone carrying an unprecedented note of