Professor Umbridge

Harry decided to write a letter of advice to his Godfather, since he and Snape were both brothers in the same camp who were causing trouble, and it would be bad to damage their relationship.

Why did you have to persecute Snape for no reason?

In the end, Snape couldn't get revenge on you, so he still took his anger out on me.

With some time still before Divination Class, Harry wrote a letter advising Sirius to stop bullying Snape.

Let Hedwig take it away.

Professor Trelawney seemed a bit unwell at the start of the new semester, but she immediately perked up when she saw Anne.

The classroom, which was closed for classes, was cluttered with some thin little tables. The lamps covered with cloths emitted very dim light, and there was a small, weak fire burning in the classroom, which even emitted an unpleasant smell that made people's heads ache.

"I kind of regret choosing to continue taking classes," Ron said.

Professor Trelawney seemed not to hear Ron's words; her attention was completely drawn to Anne.

"My dear~" she said to Anne in her usual rambling, indistinct voice, "Welcome to the Divination Class —welcome—..."

"Hello?" Anne asked uncertainly. "Professor?"

"Of course I'm fine, my dear." Professor Trelawney raised her hands in a French military salute. "But you, you possess Heavenly Eye that no one else in this school has—yes, I can see your Heavenly Eye— "

This really stumped Anne.

Heavenly Eye?

What is that?

"As I said, the Heavenly Eye is an innate talent." Professor Trelawney's voice began to clear. "Some girls—you know who I'm talking about—have souls as dry as straw, lacking that innate talent. —But this one, oh my dear, what is your name?"

"Anne," Anne answered timidly, "Anne Saru."

"Oh." Professor Trelawney raised the corner of her lips. "Anne, you have an excellent talent for divination. If you are interested in Divination, you can stay after class."

Anne didn't answer, but instead focused her gaze on Harry.

"This is a good opportunity, Anne." Harry reached out and ruffled Anne's hair, just like he always did. "I believe Professor Trelawney wouldn't lie to you. Since you have a talent for Prophecy, why not study with Professor Trelawney?"

Since it was Harry's suggestion, Anne hesitated before nodding in acceptance.

After all, Harry wouldn't harm her.

"That—" Professor Trelawney's voice trembled again, "Every Friday evening, my dear, you would come to my office for after-school care."

"Yes, Professor," Anne nodded.

Harry felt that they really needed a Prophecy talent right now. Gellert was a nonviolent noncooperative guy, and Veratia's Prophecy could only be seen within a few days, and they were sometimes accurate and sometimes not.

Anne would be a good choice; at least she wouldn't resort to nonviolent noncooperation like Gellert.

Harry felt a little itchy to touch Gellert just thinking about him.

If given the chance, I should definitely break the Charms with my brother-in-law.

Class time passed quickly. As a professor whose teaching attitude was not much different from Professor Binns', Professor Trelawney did not impose too much on whether students listened attentively in class.

Ron pulled Seamus along, and the two of them secretly played Gomoku under the table, looking quite happy.

Cho taught them this game during the summer vacation, saying it was a kind of educational game.

At first, Cho was able to win with her rich experience, but after a few games, she started to lose more than she won.

The time when Eagle's First Move lost to Ron was particularly laughable.

But when get out of class ended, the students stopped laughing.

Professor Trelawney assigned everyone homework, which required them to record in detail their dreams from the past month.

"I think she might as well just kill us all," Ron said, somewhat resignedly. "Look at all the homework we've received today! Professor Snape gave us a paper a foot long, and Professor Binns went even further, making us write a paper a foot and a half long—I thought that was the end of it, but then there's someone else, Professor Trelawney, who made us record a month's worth of dreams! Who can remember what they've ever dreamed about?!"

"You can write down your dreams first," Harry said with a shrug. "There's no need to wait until after you dream to write them down. For example, when you go home at night, you can write down all the dreams you've had this month."

"I think it's made up," Seamus grumbled from behind. "But I really like this method, so I'm stealing it."

"I have a Grim feeling," Ron suddenly said, looking up. "I bet that woman named Umbridge will follow suit and fire her own spectacular 'shot'! She'll definitely give us a ton of homework!"

"Doing homework isn't so bad," Neville whispered from behind. "It's much better than being put in solitary confinement by Professor Snape, don't you think? I'd rather be with Hagrid's Blast-Ended Skrewt than be put in solitary confinement by Professor Snape..."

"What if Hagrid lets you eat Rock Cakes?" Ron asked from behind.

Neville shuddered and said without thinking, "Then I'll just have to be put in solitary confinement by Professor Snape."

"Huh?" Anne suddenly asked, "Rock Cakes? Harry, didn't you tell me that Rock Cakes is delicious? Why is Longbottom like this?"

"Oh, because they don't know the proper way to eat Rock Cakes, Anne believes me completely," Harry said evasively.

Neville, realizing his mistake, quickly changed his tune. "Yes, I don't actually really like the flavor of Rock Cakes —you can ask Ron if you don't believe me, Rock Cakes 're actually quite delicious."

Anne was somewhat skeptical, but since all her classmates said so, she didn't know whether she should believe them or not.

Hermione —well, Hermione didn't choose to take the class, so she didn't have the chance to stand here and explain to Anne what real Rock Cakes actually taste like.

Filled with questions, Anne followed Harry and the others to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

When they entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts Class classroom, they found Professor Umbridge already seated behind the podium.

She was wearing the same fluffy pink cardigan she'd worn the night before, with the black velvet bow on her head, making her look like a pink old toad.

It's not surprising that the students think that way, after all, Umbridge's speech yesterday proved that she is not a very popular professor.

Think about it, even Dumbledore, the Headmaster, tries to keep his speech under one minute—how could a professor like her dare to speak for half an hour?

The atmosphere in the classroom was very strange. Students who entered the classroom tried their best to control themselves and not make any noise.

This was in stark contrast to when Professor Lupin was around—even in Professor Snape's Potions Class, no one was this overly reserved.

Nobody knows what the new professor's personality is like, so it's probably best for him to keep a low profile.

Once everyone had arrived, Professor Umbridge stood up and said, "Good afternoon, students!"

Everyone looked at each other, and no one knew what was going on.

Harry was quite accommodating; after giving Ron and the others a wink, they replied in unison, "Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge."

A look of surprise flashed in Professor Umbridge's eyes.

"Pfft, pfft," she said, shaking her head. "This can't go on. As the only magic academy in the Britain..."

Why do you all have no discipline at all? But what surprises me is that such a polite student is from Gryffindor; I thought they'd be from Slytherin.

No one could figure out what she meant. Before they could think about it, Professor Umbridge spoke up again.

"Of course, that's exactly what I want—from now on, in class, if it's in the morning, you should reply 'Good morning, Professor Umbridge,' and if it's in the afternoon, it's the same principle—understand? Let's do it again! Good afternoon, students!"

"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," the students replied in unison.

Professor Umbridge's face flashed with satisfaction, and in a particularly arrogant, self-important way.

"That's right," Professor Umbridge said in a childlike voice that was utterly repulsive to her appearance. "It's not too difficult, is it? At least it's much simpler than the art of Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Yes, Professor," the students said listlessly.

I don't know if it's just my imagination, but a significant number of people think this new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor is really annoying.

"Now, please put away your wands," Professor Umbridge said, head held high, continuing in that sweet, coquettish voice, "And take out your Quill."

Since no one knew what kind of medicine Professor Umbridge was going to sell, they didn't think much of it, put down their wands, and took out pens, ink, and paper.

"As far as I know, students," Professor Umbridge said, "For the past four years—at least the four years since you enrolled—you've had a new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor every year, haven't you? So, I don't think your Defense Against the Dark Arts course has been taught systematically—and I'm not exaggerating, because everyone has their own teaching style."

At this point, Professor Umbridge sighed regretfully.

"Well, that's why I think you students are indeed talented, but you've been held back by Hogwarts. The constant changes in teachers, many of whom don't seem to follow the curriculum standards approved by the Ministry of Magic, have unfortunately prevented you from reaching the level you should have reached in 0. WLs years."

These words immediately perked up many students.

Wow, this new teacher speaks so eloquently, he's quite knowledgeable.

No one had ever spoken to them from such a high vantage point, and for a moment, they were genuinely taken aback.

Professor Umbridge opened her handbag, pulled out an unusually short wand, and slammed it hard on the blackboard.

Two lines of text immediately appeared on the blackboard:

Defense Against the Dark Arts Returns to Basic Principles

"However, you will be pleased to know that these problems are about to be corrected. This year, we will be studying a carefully designed, theory-based Defense Against Magic course approved by the Ministry of Magic. Please write these words down."

She tapped the blackboard again, and the two lines of text disappeared, replaced by "Course Objectives".

1. Understand the basic principles of Defense Against Magic.

2. Learn to identify situations where it is legal to use Defense Against the Dark Arts.

3. Evaluate Defense Against the Dark Arts in the context of practical application.

Ron looked up and glanced at the words on the blackboard.

Could it be that she actually has some skill?

He turned to look at Harry beside him and saw that the other had already picked up Quill and started taking notes.

I was about to ask what was going on, but upon seeing this, our new Prefect shrugged and joined in taking notes.

The classroom was completely silent, except for the soft scratching of Quill on a book, which sounded quite pleasant and created a very classroom atmosphere.

Professor Umbridge didn't rush to speak. She held her wand in one hand and patted it as she walked around the classroom, occasionally glancing down at the students' notes.

"You," Professor Umbridge tapped Blaise Zabini with her wand, "This Slytherin student, why aren't you copying your notes?"

Blaise had no choice but to pick up Quill and copy it into his Notebook.

"You should say, 'I'm sorry,' Professor Umbridge," Professor Umbridge said sternly.

"I'm sorry, Professor Umbridge," Blaise said reluctantly.

Professor Umbridge didn't investigate further, but this action undoubtedly made other students who didn't want to copy notes uneasy.

They all lowered their heads and took out their pens to write furiously in their Notebook.

"She really knows how to do things," Ron whispered gleefully, a voice only he and Harry could hear.

However, Harry had no intention of paying any attention to Ron.

He knew that Professor Umbridge was from the Ministry of Magic and was a close associate of Minister for Magic Fudge.

She must have had some ulterior motive for entering Hogwarts.

The Ministry of Magic was very unhappy about his encounter with Voldemort, and Harry couldn't be sure if Umbridge would target him because of it.

Based on his principle of not being afraid of trouble but not causing trouble, Harry felt that writing it down wouldn't hurt. What if Professor Umbridge really did have some skills?

As the saying goes, when three people walk together, there must be a teacher I can learn from. That's the point.

Humility makes one progress.

Umbridge continued walking around the classroom, and when she reached Harry, she stopped and lingered there for a while.

Seeing that Harry had copied her blackboard notes perfectly into his notebook, Professor Umbridge nodded in satisfaction and turned back to the podium.