As soon as the school bell rang, most of the crowd on the playground immediately dispersed, as if a dying Vampire Monster might break free of its cage at any moment and pounce again.
Some people brushed the grass clippings off their robes as they walked, while others huddled together in twos and threes discussing the monster they had just encountered, their voices filled with the excitement of surviving a close call, as if they had just participated in a thrilling but ultimately safe amusement park ride.
Herman didn't rush to leave. He told Draco and Harry to go back first, then turned and walked towards Professor Quirrell.
As Draco left, she glanced back at him, her lips moved as if she wanted to say something, but in the end she just waved and walked with Harry toward the side gate of the castle.
Quirrell was using his wand to send the tables and chairs back into the tower's windows one by one, his movements unhurried and his demeanor composed and elegant, which stirred a longing within Herman.
He imagined himself standing in the middle of the playground, waving his wand, with everything moving at his command, and secretly thought it would be pretty cool. However, at the moment, he probably couldn't even send a chair back; it was too far.
Just then, Quirrell noticed Herman approaching, turned his head to look at him, and asked, " Mr. Horace, is something the matter?"
Herman stopped and stood still, his tone perfectly sincere. "Professor, I've been thinking about the class just now, and I think your arrangement was excellent."
First, teach the Firework Spell, making everyone think, "What's so special about that?" Then, release the Vampire Monster so everyone can experience firsthand what happens when you're slow.
The teaching results are outstanding; at least I guarantee that no one in Slytherin will dare to rush at Vampire again."
Quirrell's lips curved into a slight smile. He put down his wand, turned around, and faced Herman directly. "Do you think this lesson was deliberately designed?"
"The word 'deliberately' is a bit harsh," Herman considered his words carefully, "But at least it was intentionally arranged. Creating a cognitive gap first, and then verifying the conclusion with a real scenario, is more effective than simply saying 'you can't beat them' ten times."
Quirrell looked at him for a few seconds, then nodded, his tone carrying a hint of approval. "It was indeed intentionally designed, but it was at the request of Headmaster Dumbledore, and with his strong support. Otherwise, I wouldn't dare to put such a monster that could threaten most of the students into the school. After all, I'm not Professor Kettleburn."
Moreover, it's not just you first graders; other grades will also be taking similar classes, with varying levels of difficulty, but the core logic remains the same.
Let everyone see and feel for themselves that these dark creatures are not just illustrations in textbooks; they really will pounce on you when they are two meters away.
He paused, his gaze passing over Herman's shoulder and looking towards the Forbidden Forest in the distance. "Especially in the upper grades, some people start to think they can handle anything when they get to fifth or sixth grade, and they dare to charge at Werewolf Vampire."
A few years ago, a seventh-grade student encountered Werewolf during summer vacation. He thought he could handle it, but ended up ending up in St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.
Fortunately, he still had some sense and wasn't bitten, though he did break several ribs. Hopefully, this lesson will make them reconsider their own capabilities.
At this point, Quirrell shook his head regretfully. "It's a pity there aren't any teaching aids similar to Werewolf to introduce."
In reality, Vampire are quite well-behaved now, with their own set of behavioral logic. They rarely interact with the wizarding world, and upper-class Vampire have absolute control over lower-class vampires; there are hardly any who dare to disobey.
Herman nodded and asked curiously, "Aren't there Werewolf, like Vampire Monster, that could be used as teaching demonstrations?"
Quirrell chuckled, a hint of helplessness in his smile, " Werewolf don't need to drink blood to survive. Under normal circumstances, Werewolf are no different from wizards, or rather, humans. They only transform on the night of a full moon."
So there are no mutations, but there is still degeneration. According to records, or rather, what I have seen, Werewolf of ancient bloodlines can transform into Werewolf on the night of a full moon and maintain their sanity, while many victims bitten by Werewolf today are completely unable to control themselves when they transform.
He paused briefly, glanced around to make sure no other students were present, then looked at Herman. Apparently, he thought the student had performed well in class and was quite articulate, so he added with a slightly regretful tone:
"Actually, these Werewolf, who lose their reason after transforming, can also be used as teaching aids. Teaching on a full moon night would be much more effective and intimidating than with Vampire Monster. Unfortunately, although I feel the Werewolf Registry is willing to give me some clues, Headmaster Dumbledore is very opposed to this idea and emphasizes that Werewolf are not Fantastic Beasts."
He clapped his hands after he finished speaking, and the last table and chair flew back into the tower window, the window sash closing automatically with a soft click.
Quirrell turned around. "Any other questions?"
Herman had been waiting for this question, "Professor, what spell did you use to subdue the Vampire Monster? It looked very powerful."
Quirrell glanced at him, as if he had expected him to ask this question, just like he had back then, unable to resist asking the professor questions when he saw something that interested him.
" Fulgor," he said, "Is a Latin root meaning flash or lightning. It's essentially a variant of the Flash Charm, a Lumos spell, which can be called the Bright Light Charm, and it's especially effective against dark creatures."
In its normal state, it's just a blinding white light, but for Vampire and Vampire Monster creatures that rely on dark magic to maintain their form, that white light will scorch them like sunlight, even triggering a combustion reaction.
He gestured in the air as if casting a spell. "The trick is that when casting the spell, don't just think 'I want to emit light,' but imagine a beam of midday sun, hot and bright, piercing down from above your head and shooting out from the tip of the staff. The more intense the light, the stronger the suppression of dark creatures."
Depending on each person's understanding, the effects will vary slightly; some can ignite a flame, while others can only feel pain for a short time. This is the essence of magic—it is the power of the heart. Wherever magic reaches, it enters the realm of the wizard's mind.
Herman listened attentively, mentally reviewing the explanation, before asking, "Does this spell work on ordinary people too?"
"It works," Quirrell answered decisively, "But the effect will be greatly reduced. To ordinary people, it's just a bright light; it will be dazzling and temporarily blinding, but it won't burn. Its power is targeted, specifically against dark magic."
He paused, then added, "If you want to learn, I suggest you practice the normal version of Lumos first. Once you can cast it stably, then try increasing the amplitude and brightness of the beam."
This shouldn't be difficult for you. I heard Professor Flitwick praise you, saying that you should actually go to Ravenclaw.
Fulgor requires significantly more control over magic than a normal bright light; if one's skill level is insufficient, a failed spell can blind oneself.