Hogwarts: Please Graduate Soon

Friday morning.

Hufflepuff freshmen finally ushered in their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

The classroom was located in a corner on the third floor. When the first little wizard arrived, he repeatedly confirmed that he was in the right place before hesitatingly walked in.

The classroom was very dark, with only one small window still closed, and the room was filled with an unspeakable strange smell.

After Wayne arrived, he frowned subconsciously.

Just as he was about to open the window, Quirrell arrived.

"Don't... don't open it, that's fine, that's fine."

"Professor, I'm here for class, not to absorb toxic gases." Wayne said unhappily, and some little wizards already laughed.

But he quickly covered his mouth.

They were not afraid of being discovered and blamed by the professor, but because after Quirrell came in, there was a strong smell of garlic, which made the smell in the classroom even worse.

"I, I met... a resurrected zombie in the Black State. I was cursed and couldn't breathe." Quirrell explained stammeringly, pointing to the scarf on his head.

"This, this is a gift from the king of a tribe...the prince."

Resurrected zombie?

Many little wizards became interested.

The name of the resurrected zombie, also known as the resurrected zombie, is well-known in the magic world. It is a mysterious religious product.

Every resurrected zombie is a living dead, a walking corpse without consciousness and soul. Their attack power is not strong, but they have various uses.

It is a necessary sacrifice for black wizards to practice black magic.

"Professor, how did you subdue the resurrected zombie?" Justin Fenglioli raised his hand and asked.

"This, this has nothing to do with this class." Quirrell avoided answering, "Turn the textbook to the third page. Today we will learn how to avoid Kappa..."

"No, professor, just tell me about your experience." Hannah asked again, but Quirrell ignored her and started to lecture vaguely.

how to say

Worse than Cuthbert Binns.

Although Cuthbert Binns talks very hypnotically, at least his enunciation is clear enough to be used as a bedtime story.

But Quirrell was stammering, couldn't read coherently, and wanted to sleep. The smell in this room made it impossible to fall asleep.

Suddenly, the defense against dark arts that everyone was most looking forward to turned into a two-hour torture.

Wayne raised his hand.

"Lao, classmate Lawrence, do you have any questions?" Quirrell asked.

"Professor, there is indeed a problem, and it is a big problem." Wayne stood up: "I understand Cuthbert Binns reading the textbook, but if you still read the textbook, what will we learn about Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

"When we encounter Kabbah, are we going to smash him to death with our textbooks?"

"For defense against dark arts, of course you need to learn spells. Can you tell me how to use the repel spell?"

His words received strong support from the students, and everyone was talking about it.

Quirrell was frightened and explained stumblingly that he wanted everyone to gain more knowledge and would teach them spells.

In fact, he did teach.

After enduring for an hour, Quirrell wrote the spell to repel the curse on the blackboard.

Then it was over.

Wayne said again: "Professor, please demonstrate it to us again."

Quirrell hesitated for a long time and declined on the grounds that it was too dangerous.

Everyone was even more dissatisfied. What danger could a repel spell have?

Seeing that the situation was out of control, Quirrell squeezed out a few tears from his twinkling eyes, hugged the textbook and ran away, leaving behind a bunch of dumbfounded little wizards.

Wayne was also confused.

He just wanted to earn some points, so why did he make people cry?

It has been almost a week since Wayne came to school. On the one hand, Wayne is familiar with the school, but on the other hand, he has not found a suitable opportunity to earn points.

The other professors all deserved his respect, and he couldn't do anything to intentionally cause trouble for the sake of points.

Only Quirrell, this guy is deliberately showing off, is Voldemort's Jinchuuriki, and Wayne doesn't feel any guilt at all when he bullies him.

In just one class, he had already scored more than 100 points.

Just when Wayne was planning to keep up his efforts and earn 200 points to rest.

Who would have thought that Quirrell's endurance was so poor that he actually ran away.

Who can I talk to to explain this?

There are no secrets in Hogwarts. What happened in the classroom spread immediately. The first people to know were the other two houses in the first year.

"Did you really make Professor Quirrell cry?"

During lunch, Wayne was pulled to the Gryffindor table by Hermione and asked curiously.

"No, what happened to these two people?"

Hermione didn't answer. Wayne looked next to her. Harry and Neville both had dull eyes and numb expressions, looking like they had been played badly.

"Don't mention it!"

Ronald put down his knife and fork angrily, "In Potions class just now, Snape was chasing Harry like a swallow-tailed dog. He obviously asked a lot of questions about something he hadn't learned yet. In the end, Harry couldn't answer and he deducted two points from us. "

"Granger's hands are raised to the ceiling. He can't see yet. Is he blind?!"

Hermione gave him an unhappy look.

What do you mean by raising it to the ceiling and calling her a long-armed monster?

It turns out I was in Potions class...

Wayne wasn't surprised at all now. Instead, he was surprised that Snape only deducted two points from them, which was too few.

"I have a way to save you from being targeted." Wayne pondered for a moment and said.

Harry's eyelids moved and he looked over involuntarily.

"Coach, I want to learn."

"Ahem." Wayne pretended to be profound and said, "Did you keep staring at Snape when he asked you a question?"

Harry nodded sharply.

This is a master, he even knows this.

"That's your fault." Wayne shook his head, "Think about it, when you hate someone and the other person looks at you and makes it clear that he is not convinced, what will happen to you?"

Harry mused: "I'm going to get angrier and angrier."

Wayne clapped his hands and said, "That's right. Next time you encounter this situation, just lower your head and admit your mistake sincerely. Even if the professor gets angry again, there's nothing you can do about it. After all, you have such a good attitude."

Harry's eyes became brighter and brighter, and finally he said gratefully:

"Thank you Wayne, I don't know what I would have done otherwise."

"You're welcome." Wayne smiled gently, "Remember, never look at Snape."

After saying that, after the system prompted the points to be increased by 50, he drifted away.