As class time approached, the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was already full.
Everyone had taken out their copies of Defensive Magical Theory and waited quietly. The mood in the classroom was unusually solemn.
Soon, the students heard Professor Moody's distinctive clumping footsteps drawing closer along the corridor.
Professor Moody leaned on his cane as he slowly entered the classroom.
He looked as unsettling as ever, but there was also something uniquely compelling about him.
The claw-shaped wooden leg protruded from beneath his robes, but Professor Moody seemed not to care in the slightest. He didn't even bother using magic to make it look like a real leg.
"Put all of this away—your textbooks and quills, everything!"
Professor Moody said gruffly. He struggled over to the desk and sat down, tossing his cane aside.
"Judging by my teaching plan, these bedtime stories for little children won't be of much use this year."
Excited chatter immediately filled the classroom.
When a professor told students to put away their books and quills, it meant they were having a practical lesson.
Practical lessons in other subjects were one thing, but in Defense Against the Dark Arts, the only practical lesson the young witches and wizards had found unpleasant was the one Professor Lockhart had given them in second year.
By contrast, Professor Lupin's practical lessons last term had been fascinating and immensely useful.
Professor Quirrell's lectures, which consisted of reading straight from the book, had been terribly boring. Professor Lockhart's theatrical performances had been somewhat entertaining at first, but had soon grown tedious.
So now Professor Moody was preparing to teach a practical lesson... His standing among the young witches and wizards shot through the roof!
Professor Moody took out the attendance sheet and shook his head, tossing his long, grizzled hair