Chapter 19: Aftermath of the Lesson
That was… a very memorable class.
But Allen had a fantastic time.
When is a bottle of water most refreshing?
One: when you're dying of thirst under a scorching sun in the middle of the desert.
Two: when you're standing in the shade, sipping leisurely, while others suffer in the blistering heat.
Likewise, even though standing outside the classroom wasn't nearly as comfortable as lounging on a sofa in the common room, Allen still found it thoroughly entertaining.
With their new professor's tacit approval, Allen's classmates resorted to increasingly ridiculous methods to deal with the unhygienic little creatures fluttering around. They soon discovered that offensive spells weren't nearly as easy to cast as they had imagined, especially since the professor required them not just to cast the spell, but to actually hit one of the fast-flying bats.
After multiple failed attempts, desperation set in. Students began chucking whatever throwable objects they could find. Unsurprisingly, books became the weapon of choice, and before long, the classroom resembled the chaos of a graduation party, with textbooks flying everywhere like confetti.
Not that it helped.
If spells moving at high speeds couldn't hit the bats, how could anyone expect a slow, clunky book to? Worse still, the adorable yet uncivilized creatures were enraged. Though harmless in terms of physical attacks, just as the professor had promised, the bats retaliated in the only way they knew how: with terrifyingly accurate aerial bombardments.
Utter despair settled in. The young witches and wizards couldn't even attempt to fight back, nonverbal magic was a far-off dream, and basic human instinct dictated that when one looks up at the sky... one tilts their head back.
And so, after the first unfortunate student became a casualty of the "airstrike," the rest gave up all hope of spellcasting and simply resorted to books as makeshift shields.
They swore that never in their lives had a class bell sounded so heavenly, even compared to the terrifyingly punctual Snape's lectures. And they didn't even have the strength to admire the professor's incredible skill in charming all the bats back into the cage in mere moments.
When the chaos finally died down, the towering professor, still smiling brightly (a smile that most students later described as demonic), cheerfully announced the end of class. The students felt as though angels had begun to sing.
"Oh, and by the way," the professor added with great enthusiasm, "since your performance was a bit underwhelming, I think we can leave the textbooks behind next time. We'll be doing another round of this practical exercise."
The warmth in his voice hit like an avalanche. For the students, it felt like falling straight from heaven into hell.
After class, Allen instantly became the most popular person in two entire houses. Quite a few first-year girls from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff cheerfully expressed their desire to team up with him for the next lesson.
Allen, however, politely declined from a safe distance, even the cutest of girls couldn't inspire any "heroic" urges when surrounded by an aura of unidentifiable filth.
But to his surprise, none of the girls were upset. In fact, they were delighted when Allen cast a Scourgify (Scouring Charm) to clean them up, drawing amazed squeals.
This single charm made him even more popular. After all, no one, no matter how brave, wanted to walk back to their dorm covered in... mysterious substances.
Still, after helping all the girls, Allen only cleaned up a few of the boys before stopping. His excuse? He was low on magic power. Perfectly reasonable, who would expect a first-year to have enough magical strength to cast cleaning spells on everyone?
Of course, in Allen's mind, the difference in treatment between cute girls and rowdy boys was completely justified.
And so, aside from his dormmates and a few lucky ones, most of the other boys had no choice but to return to the common room drenched in questionable gunk. Rumor had it that the bathroom queue stretched well past curfew that night, even those already cleaned with magic wanted a proper wash to get rid of the lingering smell.
When the crowd finally dispersed, Allen found himself left with the Weasley twins and a boy he didn't recognize. Judging by their easy camaraderie, they were clearly friends.
"Allen, this is Lee Jordan, he's a fantastic guy!" Fred introduced with a grin.
Allen didn't shake hands immediately. Instead, he pulled out his wand and cast Scourgify three times in quick succession.
"Perfect!" George gave him a thumbs-up. "Allen, today might've been rough, but no doubt about it, that professor is an amazing teacher!"
"Yeah, I never thought school could actually be fun until now!" Fred added.
Lee Jordan, shaking Allen's hand with sincerity, nodded. "He's the best professor we've ever had. No contest."
To Allen's surprise, the twins refused to team up with him in the next class. "Come on, Allen! Wasting such a perfect class with you would be a crime!" they said.
Allen was baffled, and deeply suspicious that the dynamic trio had just been inspired to venture into a whole new realm of mischief under this new professor's influence.
So, dear students, may Merlin have mercy on you… because the Prankster Trio has arrived.
In truth, the impact of that lesson was far greater than Allen had anticipated. Throughout dinner and the entire weekend, it was the hot topic among students.
And the one who contributed most to fanning the flames? None other than Peeves the Poltergeist.
Calling him a ghost was a stretch, Peeves was a chaotic spirit with the personality of a prankster poet and a reputation unmatched across Hogwarts.
No matter if it was the retreat of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff in the morning or the heavily "blessed" exit of Slytherin and Ravenclaw in the afternoon, students barely made it a few steps from the classroom before running into Peeves.
A terrible poet at heart, Peeves simply could not pass up such rich material.
After a whole afternoon of scheming, he proudly debuted a brand-new, terrible little rhyme for the whole school:
••┈┈┈┈┈༓┈┈┈┈┈•••
"Oh look at our baby witches and wizards,
Their heads are full of fluff, like silly lizards.
Noble blood smeared with feces and fear,
Brave little lions diving down toilets so near.
Witty ol' eagles stuck in a bog,
And poor little badgers let out a sob.
Then noble Peeves begins to sing,
About Hogwarts' first-years, the clueless ding-a-lings!"
••┈┈┈┈┈༓┈┈┈┈┈•••
And so ended the most unforgettable Defense Against the Dark Arts class Hogwarts had seen in years.
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