Outside the compartment, Crabbe and Goyle were sprawled across the corridor like two piles of mud.
Inside the compartment, Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson were crouching in a corner with their hands over their heads, becoming the prefects' laughingstock.
Cedric continued explaining the matters the prefects needed to pay attention to in the new school year, and the prefects from each house listened very attentively.
At this moment, everyone understood one thing. Regardless of whether Voldemort had returned or not, and regardless of what the Ministry of Magic said about Dumbledore, as long as Eda was still at school, none of these students could stir up any trouble.
Draco Malfoy had already put this to the test himself, successfully setting an example for everyone.
The train traveled northward, and the weather changed unpredictably. Raindrops intermittently tapped against the windows, then the sun lazily poked its face out, only for clouds to drift over and cover it again.
The rain made the windows dirty, and Eda kept gazing at the blurred scenery outside. She had absolutely no thoughts about this prefects' meeting.
A year ago, she had still been in this same compartment calling on everyone to unite and not embarrass themselves in front of outsiders. A year later, still in this same compartment, she could only feel that her past self had been somewhat "adorable."
"Eda, Eda..."
Cedric called softly several times before finally bringing the absent-minded Eda back to reality. He continued, "I've finished. Is there anything else you want to emphasize?"
"No. That's it. Meeting adjourned," Eda said. She stood up and walked out of the prefects' compartment first. The prefects followed her out.
With everyone moving at once, the compartment became chaotic. In the confusion, no one knew who reached out and shoved Malfoy, sending Young Master Malfoy, who was crouching down, landing hard on his backside.
Pansy Parkinson beside him did not escape either, falling flat on her backside as well. Compared to the two of them, Crabbe and Goyle outside the door had it worse. Their bodies were covered with the prefects' shoeprints.
...
After searching through several carriages, Eda found the twins' compartment. Everyone was there.
The twins and Lee Jordan were discussing business, occasionally writing something on a small piece of paper. The writing on the paper was densely packed. Angelina and Alicia were reading a magazine called The Quibbler.
Eda had subscribed to this magazine before as well, except she treated it as a joke book. She did not believe a single punctuation mark of the content published in it.
For example, the issue Angelina and Alicia were reading now had a terribly drawn cartoon of Cornelius Fudge on the cover. One hand was grabbing a bag of gold while the other was squeezing a goblin by the neck.
The caption read: How Far Is Fudge From Taking Over Gringotts?
Ridiculous. Although Fudge was a complete idiot and fool, Eda was quite certain that the Minister would not drown goblins or turn them into goblin pies as the magazine claimed.
Eda sat beside Angelina and rested her head against her shoulder.
"I think we might have to be very active this new school year."
"What kind of activity?" Alicia asked, poking her head over. "DA? Have you discovered something again?"
The twins and Lee Jordan also stopped their discussion and looked at Eda, waiting for her to continue.
"Wilbert Slinkhard. He's a pacifist," Eda said. "He advocates resolving conflicts through peaceful means, such as negotiation. He opposes the use of offensive spells, even when they're used for defensive purposes. In other words, in his view, even 'Incendio' would be considered an evil spell."
The other five people in the compartment all opened their mouths in perfect unison. Since when had even a simple spell become an evil spell?!
"Is it really that exaggerated?" Angelina asked. "Have you finished reading Defensive Magical Theory? How is it?"
Eda closed her eyes, her face filled with pain, as though that book had caused her tremendous suffering.
"I read it before, and at the time I thought Mr. Slinkhard was absolutely extraordinary. This time I looked through it again, because I was afraid my memory was wrong, but..."
As though she could not bear to recall this painful memory, Eda sadly covered her face with both hands.
"There can't possibly be not a single spell in this book, right?" Lee Jordan asked. "Surely not. If that's the case, what are we supposed to do in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, read the textbook aloud?"
Then, under everyone's incredulous gazes, Eda nodded.
The entire book was filled with theory, all of it Mr. Slinkhard's unrealistic fantasies about peace.
Everyone was dumbfounded. They simply could not imagine it.
When Death Eaters or Dark wizards attacked them, would they raise Defensive Magical Theory and ask their opponents to sit down and have a peaceful discussion, to negotiate with them...
How was that possible! The Death Eaters would only treat them as idiots and then easily send them to meet Merlin.
Although Voldemort had hidden away during this holiday, he would not stay hidden forever. Sooner or later, he would come out and start another war. What would they do then? Would they really take this book with them to negotiate?
Even children knew that if you could not win on the battlefield, you did not even have the right to sit at the negotiating table. Voldemort would only see everyone as lambs waiting to be slaughtered and kill them as he pleased.
Even setting Voldemort aside, the seventh-year students would soon have to face their N.E.W.T.s.
The written exam was one thing, but what about the practical exam? Would they go up to the examiner and recite a passage from Defensive Magical Theory?
Hogwarts was not exactly the Scottish branch of the Charlie Chaplin comedy troupe, and wizards were not comedians.
"Has Dumbledore really gotten old and senile?" Fred said doubtfully. "He went through all that trouble to find a professor, and this is what we got?"
George also said, "Is Defense Against the Dark Arts going to become like History of Magic from now on? Is the new professor a ghost too?"
After all, the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor really was difficult to fill.
The professors from the first three years had all died, Quirrell, Lockhart, and Moody, while one had been locked up in Azkaban, and another had spent nine months trapped in a trunk.
Only Remus Lupin had managed to hold up relatively well.
Under these circumstances, who would still dare to come to Hogwarts to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts? Living people probably would not dare anymore. Only dead people would.
"During the holiday, I met Professor Dumbledore several times," Eda said. "I talked with him about a lot of things."
With her eyes closed as she spoke, Eda did not notice that when she mentioned having met Dumbledore several times, the twins secretly exchanged a glance.
"I'm very sure that his mind is perfectly clear. He's not senile at all," Eda continued. "Right now, my only hope is that this book was assigned by those idiots at the Ministry of Magic, rather than being chosen by the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."
If the new professor really had chosen Defensive Magical Theory themselves, Eda very much wanted to recommend that the professor visit St. Mungo's to have their brain examined, or perhaps go to Azkaban for some further education.
It was not that Eda did not know how to respect people, nor was she being arrogant and conceited. It was simply that Wilbert Slinkhard's Defensive Magical Theory really was not suitable as a textbook for Hogwarts.
It was much more suitable for the Azkaban Continuing Education Academy.
Once the executioners of Azkaban agreed with the contents of this book and put down the butcher's knives in their hands, then Eda might finally give Defensive Magical Theory a little bit of recognition.
Night fell. The lights inside the compartment came on, and Hogwarts' towering castle could already be seen in the distance. Everyone also took turns changing into their school robes.
Based on experience, the train would soon begin slowing down. Sure enough, after rounding a bend, the train gradually slowed.
Chaotic and noisy sounds came from outside the compartment, as everyone was busy gathering their luggage and pets together in preparation for getting off.
When the train stopped at the pitch-black Hogsmeade Station, Eda and the others left the compartment and merged into the flow of people in the corridor.
As usual, no one dared to compete with Eda for space, but this time the students kept even farther away from her.
Taking advantage of this, Eda and the others were among the first to leave the train, feeling the sting of the night air against their faces.
There was no booming voice from Hagrid on the dark platform, and they did not hear the familiar call of, "Firs' years, this way... Firs' years..."
Instead, a crisp female voice was loudly calling out, "First years, line up over here! All first years, follow me!"
After walking along the dark street outside the station, washed clean by the rain, Eda boarded the carriage heading toward the castle.
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