Chapter 69 Snape's Defense Against the Dark Arts (1)
Is there anything more miserable than Potions class early in the morning?
Of course there was. Professor Lockhart had no idea what disease he had gotten himself into overnight, and Professor Snape had very enthusiastically taken over the Defense Against the Dark Arts class temporarily.
Looking at the solemn black bat that had disappeared from the podium just after a Herbology class, Harry gritted his teeth. First of all, he didn't like Snape or Lockhart. Secondly, if he was asked to choose the one he disliked more, he would choose Snape.
At least Professor Lockhart wouldn't be so picky as to deduct points from him.
"Mr. Potter, you are not paying attention in class. Gryffindor will deduct three points from your score!" Snape spoke as if to prove something.
Harry was used to it. He pursed his lips and just looked at Snape with his green eyes. If he objected at this time, he would definitely lose more points. After experiencing so many times, Harry had learned his lesson.
"Okay, let's start today's class," Snape frowned and stared at the students below. He paced a few steps on the podium and waved his wand. Several colorful branches dotted with small buds appeared on the podium. "Della, pass out these Montero branches."
"Lockhart's teaching materials are too personal, so I'm improvising this lesson," Snape said, raising his voice while staring at Della's figure that paused in front of little Malfoy as she distributed the branches. "This lesson has only one content, which is to make the buds on these branches bloom. You can do whatever you want."
Snape deliberately emphasized the last sentence. He looked down at the students who were casually flipping flowers and looking at them from the podium. With a subtle smile on his lips, he turned around and sat behind the podium. "You have thirty minutes. Now - start!"
"Does he think this is a Charms class?" Ron whispered to Harry, picking up a branch of flowers.
"It doesn't feel that simple." Looking up at Snape who was reading with his head down, Harry lowered his voice and said that they didn't need to be so cautious because everyone around them was discussing it. But when Professor Snape wanted to kill a chicken to scare the monkeys, the chicken would definitely be them.
"Hey, what kind of spell is that Hermione chanting? Why is it useless?" Ron stretched his neck slightly to look at the situation of Hermione and Della at the table in front of him. "Why did Della even put down her wand?"
"Why don't we think about what we should do first, Ron." Harry raised his wand and was about to cast a spell when a familiar explosion sounded from behind. Everyone subconsciously looked at Seamus. His face was covered in black and gray, and there was not even any gray left on the branches in front of him.
"Mr. Finnigan, this is not the kind of bloom I want," Snape only raised his eyelids, "Do you still want me to specify what it is? Gryffindor will deduct two points for your stupidity, and you can go out and wash your face now, and then wait for the end of get out of class, Mr. Finnigan."
Snape turned a page of the book nonchalantly on the stage, but the people below felt an inexplicable sense of oppression. Their hands holding the wands trembled slightly and they exchanged terrified glances with each other.
The task assigned by Snape was impossible for anyone to complete.
Della finally picked up the wand at hand, waved it twice in a pretentious manner, and sighed softly.
How is it possible to bring life back to something that has been cursed to death?
Hermione on the side has progressed from the initial "flower blooming" to trying to cultivate the branches with photosynthetic water in turn. The idea is good, but just like there is no spell that can bring the dead back to life, no matter how hard you try to work on the corpse, you can't restore its vitality.
No, that can't be said. In Maggie's description, she was dead at that time, but the dead one may not necessarily be herself.
Then, it should be possible to allow the dead flower bud to be replaced by another one if the only requirement is to make it bloom.
But this would obviously go against the purpose of the professor's class, so let's just pretend.
However, the dead and the replaced...such words are really dark. It seems that I have not completely gotten rid of the black magic. I thought that a holiday of alchemy could cover up some things.
Never mind. There's nothing to think about.
Della started to slack off. Her listless look had other meanings in the eyes of others. What else could it be? She was trapped in love.
Harry and Ron exchanged glances. They now even felt that Hermione and Della, who were sitting at the table in front of them, exuded a greater sense of oppression than Snape. One of them cast a fierce spell because she didn't see her idol, and the other showed an almost tangible low pressure.
"Um... well... let's try it ourselves first." Ron hesitated for a while and slowly picked up the wand.
"No, no, no, don't use your wand yet," Harry quickly held down Ron's hand and turned to motion for Ron to look around. "No one can do it, just watch me try. Don't use your unsafe wand yet."
"You're right." Thinking about how Seamus looked just now, Ron shuddered. At least he couldn't be so conspicuous in Snape's class.
"I have a feeling that magic may be useless for this." Harry looked at Della, who was hardly moving, and then at the flower branch in his hand. He could only follow Ron's movements left and right to kill time. Except for the offensive spells, they basically used all of them. Although the flower branches were not seriously damaged, there were small flower buds scattered all over the table. Harry curled his lips and picked up one in his hand.
"It seems like no one in the whole classroom can do it, Ron." Harry twisted the soft flower bud while looking around quietly, paying special attention to Hermione and Della at the table in front of them.
Hermione's branches were badly damaged. The buds that had been soaked in water did show a subtle sense of opening, but that was obviously not the blooming that Professor Snape had mentioned. Della's branches were no different from when they were first distributed, and her few mild spells were just to deal with it.
Could it be related to black magic?
Harry thought back to the conversation he had with Della in his first year. Frankly speaking, he still couldn't figure out why he didn't discuss this matter with Hermione and Ron at the first time.
But it's all in the past, and it would be weird to bring it up now.
Forget it, let’s not think about those things for now. These branches of flowers may not be related to black magic. Della has read many books, and these may also be other impossible things she has seen.
But she should have told us...
"Who knows what that old bat is going to do."
Ron, who also looked around, spoke angrily in a low voice, interrupting Harry's gradually deviating thoughts. Harry unconsciously increased the strength of the hand that was twisting the flower bud, and a slight grainy feeling appeared at his fingertips.
Huh?