Snape II

"Professor Quirrell has changed so much. When he was the professor for Muggle Studies, he was always so cautious, but yesterday at the staff table, he looked so composed."

In the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom on the second floor of the castle, students were discussing their teacher.

"Of course, he's changed a lot. I heard he spent a long time in the Forbidden Forest."

"At least a year. Goodness, I wouldn't dare go there, it's too dangerous."

"Robert, you interviewed for the teaching assistant position, how did it go? Did you get it?"

"Caro, I don't know," Robert replied. "The results haven't been announced yet, and Ellie also applied."

"I definitely won't get it. The professor wasn't very satisfied with my defensive spells; he told me so at the time," the sixth-year prefect sighed.

"The chances for seventh-years aren't high either. The professor said he wants a junior teaching assistant so he doesn't have to choose next year," the seventh-year prefect said.

Robert nodded, feeling a little excited inside, but he didn't show it.

"What do you think the professor will teach us?" Caro picked up the textbook in her hand. "Will it all be from the book?"

"Probably not. Isn't there a Maple Training Ground in the Forbidden Forest?"

This topic got everyone excited, and they started chattering about what exactly was in that training ground.

Before they could come to any conclusions, Quirrell had already appeared at the door.

"Ravenclaw has gotten so lively?"

Voldemort walked up to the professor and said with a displeased expression, "I thought this was a Gryffindor classroom."

A suffocating sense of pressure instantly enveloped the entire classroom. This was the aura of Voldemort's remnant soul, and the fledglings were completely unable to resist.

His obsession with books and thirst for knowledge allowed him to easily interrupt the skill [Lin Zuo Moment]. He was no longer controlled by Lin Zuo's main consciousness.

"Let me review your Ordinary Wizarding Levels exam results."

Voldemort picked up a stack of papers and quickly flipped through them. "Last year's exam question was 'Five characteristics of a Werewolf,' and the year before was 'How to distinguish Vampire factions by their cochlea.'"

"It's surprising that even a Ravenclaw couldn't answer such questions. Fortunately, they can't take my class, or I would hang them upside down. These Ravenclaws are a disgrace."

To choose Defense Against the Dark Arts electives for the sixth and seventh years, one needed to achieve a grade of 'Outstanding' or higher in the fifth-year Ordinary Wizarding Levels exam. This was also one of the reasons for the small class size.

"Let's look at your practicals: counter-curses for Dark Curses, defensive spells, Boggart banishment spells... Has the Ordinary Wizarding Levels exam become this casual now?"

Faced with Voldemort's questioning, everyone was speechless. They weren't the ones who set the questions, so how could they be blamed?

"The bonus item, the Patronus Charm, and not a single one of you can cast it completely. What have you all been doing all these years?"

Slamming the thick stack of papers onto the desk, Voldemort swept his gaze across the more than twenty students with chilling eyes, not giving them an ounce of a pleasant look.

"If you were fourth-year students, I would be happy with your achievements, but you are already in your sixth and seventh years. Damn it, you have brought shame upon Ravenclaw."

Faced with such questioning, not a single student dared to retort. It wasn't just the pressure from Voldemort's remnant soul at play; a significant part of it stemmed from Quirinus Quirrell's identity.

A top graduate of Ravenclaw, he was hired by the school as a Muggle Studies professor shortly after graduation. After venturing out for a while, he returned to become the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

With such a resume, he naturally had the qualifications to reprimand his junior and senior fellow students from Ravenclaw.

"Open the first chapter of your textbook and take diligent notes."

Voldemort said as he picked up his own textbook: [Encountering Faceless Monsters].

[Encountering Faceless Monsters] was a top-tier textbook for Defense Against the Dark Arts. If one could fully grasp this book, dealing with the written portion of the final Wizarding Levels exam would be no problem.

"Screeeech..."

Chalk made an unpleasant sound on the blackboard. Quirrell, while looking at his annotated book, wrote what he had already planned on the blackboard:

The difference between Female Ghosts and Ghosts...

The cause of the zombie-like appearance of Female Ghosts...

The danger of Female Ghosts' deadly screams and methods of resistance...

The large blackboard, composed of four sliding panels, was soon covered in dense writing. The entire process took about twenty minutes.

During this time, no one spoke in the spacious classroom. All the students were taking notes with "swish swish swish," but when Quirrell finished writing everything, no one could complete it simultaneously.

"This is the content for this lesson; it's all on the blackboard. I require you to write a ten-inch essay on this topic, analyzing the principles applied in Gilderoy Lockhart's Breaking Up With Female Ghosts when expelling the Bandon Female Ghost."

Upon hearing Quirrell's words, the students' faces showed expressions of utter agony – they actually had to read a book before writing an essay?

"You don't need to read the whole thing. Most of the content in that book is unreliable. Only the strategies and methods for dealing with Female Ghosts seem decent."

Quirrell's words finally lessened the pain on their faces, but his next sentence plunged them back into despair.

"In addition, you must propose countermeasures based on the combat process described in the book. Listen carefully: I don't need you to tell me which spells to use, but your strategies."

Sighs arose, but Quirrell didn't care. These were sixth and seventh-year students; there was no need to nurture them slowly. They were already near graduation, ripe fruits.

"Accio Furniture."

Voldemort waved his wand, and with a crude spell, tables and chairs flew to the sides, clearing a large space in the center of the classroom.

"The key points are on the blackboard, the detailed content is in the book. If you don't understand anything, research it yourself. If you truly can't understand, come to my office and ask me."

Under the students' bewildered gazes, Voldemort said, "Next, we will practice the Patronus Charm. I don't want to waste time on lengthy explanations."

His words left the students looking at each other in confusion...

So, Professor, you write down the key points on the blackboard and consider the lecture finished?

We don't even need to mention the self-study of the specific content; during class time, you want us to practice the advanced Patronus Charm?

Professor, are you even human?

"What are you standing around for? Do I need to invite you?"

Voldemort's roar finally jolted the students awake.

No one dared to argue. They all got up and began attempting the Patronus Charm.

For them, sixth and seventh years, the Patronus Charm was not unfamiliar.

As early as their fifth-year Charms class, Professor Flitwick had explained in detail the magical hand gestures, incantations, and emotions required.

But... this is Defense Against the Dark Arts class, not Charms class.

"I told you to find the source of happiness, not to grin like an idiot..."

"Dementors won't wait for you to cast spells. Be quicker, be more decisive."

"Enunciate the incantation clearly. Mumbled spells are useless. Do I have to remind you of this too?"

Harsh reminders rang out from time to time, causing the Ravenclaw students to tremble.

Before class, they had made countless guesses about the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, but they never expected...

Senior, are you trying to become Snape II?

Heaven forbid, did you really graduate from the wise Ravenclaw?