Ch293- Temp Professor
Ch293- Temp Professor
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The next morning came, and Harry headed to breakfast. The Great Hall was filled with the usual chatter. Umbridge had left the castle earlier that morning. No surprise—she’d been humiliated enough in the past few days, and with Fudge gone, her protection had disappeared. Harry didn’t waste time feeling sorry for her.
Later, in Defense Against the Dark Arts, the class sat in quiet anticipation. Umbridge had been replaced, though no one had been officially told who the new professor would be. Harry suspected who it would be. After all, he was there when Dumbledore told Snape to request Moody’s presence. Harry briefly considered if it was worth lifting the curse on the position now. He didn't have anything personal against Moody, but he had never been taught by him either. Best to wait and see how things played out before making any moves.
The students murmured among themselves, speculating about who the new professor would be. Some were confident it would be a Ministry puppet again, others whispered about rumors of a retired Auror stepping in. The door creaked open, and the chatter immediately died down. Instead of the scarred face of Alastor Moody, it was Dumbledore who walked in. The students exchanged wide-eyed glances, not expecting the Headmaster himself.
"Good morning," Dumbledore greeted with a nod, his usual calm demeanor unchanged. “I’ll be handling today’s lesson. Professor Umbridge’s replacement will arrive soon, but for now, let’s focus on something more useful than Ministry-approved material.”
The relief was almost palpable. No one dared to challenge Dumbledore, and honestly, no one wanted to. If the Headmaster himself was teaching, there would be no pointless theory or shallow spells.
Dumbledore’s gaze swept across the room, his eyes twinkling slightly. “Today, we’ll be covering defensive magic in real-world scenarios. Now, tell me—what are the most common mistakes wizards make when defending themselves?”
“Complacency,” Draco muttered from the back, surprising a few with his participation. "People think casting stronger spells will always save them."
Dumbledore gave a small nod of approval. "Quite right, Mr. Malfoy. Over-reliance on powerful spells is a common mistake. Anyone else?"
Hermione’s hand shot up next, as expected. "Not understanding your opponent’s strengths and weaknesses. Knowing what you're up against can make all the difference."
"Very good, Miss Granger," Dumbledore replied. "A proper assessment of your adversary is crucial. Whether it's another witch or wizard, or a magical creature, the approach matters."
Harry sat back, watching as a few more students chimed in, their responses varying in confidence. Still, Dumbledore had a way of making even these sessions useful.
"The most important aspect of defense," Dumbledore continued, "is adaptability. You must remain flexible, for no two situations are the same."
The Headmaster’s eyes scanned the room again. "Now, what is the one thing that can undermine even the best defense?"
Silence fell again, this time a little longer as the students seemed to ponder the question. Then Neville spoke up from the side. "Fear?"
Dumbledore turned toward him, his expression softening. "Indeed, Mr. Longbottom. Fear can be a powerful disruptor. It clouds judgment and paralyzes action. Facing your fear is the key to overcoming it."
A murmur passed through the class. "Now," Dumbledore said, clapping his hands lightly, "for today’s practical exercise. We’ll work in pairs to practice disarming and shield spells. Keep it simple, but effective."
The students paired up quickly. Harry found himself the odd one out, as usual. It wasn’t exactly a surprise, though. His reputation had a way of making people hesitate. But this time, Harry noticed something off—Dumbledore’s casual glance toward him.
Harry’s eyes narrowed just a fraction. He knew it wasn’t that simple when the Headmaster said, “Well, it seems like it’s you and me, Harry. How about you show me what you’ve been practicing?”
Harry sensed it right away—the reason he was the odd one out was definitely Dumbledore. It wasn’t coincidence. He could feel the headmaster’s eyes on him, studying. Harry smiled softly. The man was too smart to fool easily. If he held back now, Dumbledore would see through it. But showing too much might reveal more than Harry was ready to let out.
The two stood across from each other, Dumbledore's wand already raised, eyes focused. He launched an Expelliarmus straight at Harry, the spell slicing through the air a bit faster than one would expect in a third-year classroom. Harry didn’t bother with his wand, sidestepping the spell easily, his movement smooth and practiced.
Dumbledore wasted no time, flicking his wrist for another Expelliarmus, this one packing more speed and a touch more power. Harry dodged again, only giving a quick glance at his opponent. He was catching on: the spells were coming faster, each one just a little sharper than the last. By the fifth round, Harry’s patience was thinning; Dumbledore's pace kept escalating, as if he were gradually turning the dial up to see what Harry could handle.
Then, on the sixth spell, the speed dropped unexpectedly. The spell was slow, weak even, drifting toward Harry as if Dumbledore had grown tired. But Harry wasn’t buying it; the man was testing him, no doubt. With a small smirk, he raised his wand this time, letting the spell brush past him.
Dumbledore’s eyebrow lifted slightly, his expression almost playful. “Trying to break my concentration?” Harry thought in his mind.
The old man was trying the obvious. Harry could almost set his watch by it. As predicted, the spells picked up speed on the seventh, eighth, ninth, and tenth rounds, testing Harry’s reflexes. According to Dumbledore's rhythm, the eleventh would be faster than the tenth and then slow down again on the twelfth, but Dumbledore pulled a switch. The eleventh spell came in slow, a little half-hearted. Harry chuckled, barely moving as the red light flicked by. He didn’t even bother to raise his wand, still dodging with casual ease.
Then the next sequence began, picking up again. By the sixteenth spell, the rhythm was due for a drop, but Dumbledore didn’t slow down. The spell tore through the air with sudden power and speed, almost too fast to track. It was a stunning spell, a quick twist of his wrist to catch Harry off guard. With no time to dodge, Harry raised his wand to brace for it. The spell hit him squarely, and a powerful jolt threw him back. He landed with a solid thud, frozen mid-motion, completely Stupefied.
Dumbledore lowered his wand, eyes narrowing as he took a step closer. His frown deepened when Harry didn’t move, his body locked in place on the ground. Silence blanketed the classroom, and the students looked at each other, unsure if this was part of the lesson or a mistake.
It wasn’t long before Harry felt the world snap back into place. He sat up, rubbing his neck and rolling his shoulders to shake off the spell's lingering effects. Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, offering him a small nod. "I see you kept yourself sharp, Harry."
Harry got up, dusting off his robes. “That last one was so quick, I barely had time to react,” he said, sounding impressed, though both he and Dumbledore knew he was putting it on.
"Ah, I was just getting frustrated with your dodging, Harry. Apologies if I went a bit overboard," Dumbledore said, offering a slight grin. They both knew the apology was mostly for show, but Harry played along.
“It’s fine, Headmaster,” Harry replied, dusting himself off. “I learned a lot. Thank you.”
Dumbledore nodded, clearly pleased with the response, though there was a flicker of something more in his expression—perhaps satisfaction, maybe just curiosity. The class, meanwhile, had been quietly watching, their eyes darting between the two of them. No one dared to comment, but Harry could tell they all witnessed more than they expected.
As Dumbledore turned back to the class, he resumed the lesson, giving instructions on more advanced defensive techniques. “Now, pair up again and let’s go over a few practical exercises.” He flicked his wand, and the chalk on the board shifted, displaying different shielding and counter-attack spells. The students sprang back into action, clearly relieved to return to their usual exercises.
Harry took a seat at the back, letting the others train. He watched his classmates, noting their various techniques, evaluating their strengths and weaknesses.
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