Quirrell asked for leave. The official story was that after running into the troll that day, he was so frightened that he couldn't walk without trembling and was completely unable to teach.
For the little wizards, this was absolutely good news.
After all, whether they were first years or seventh years, anyone who had attended Quirrell's class was allergic to that pungent garlic smell that refused to dissipate from the classroom. That near-poisonous stuff tortured everyone's nerves and challenged the limits of human physiological adaptability.
There was a trick to masking the rotting stench of Voldemort, but unlike the smell of a toilet that one eventually gets used to while squatting, this stuff was a bit too potent. You simply couldn't get used to it; the brain convulsed madly in rejection. Human adaptability suffered a crushing defeat before Quirrell.
Lynn had every reason to believe that the reason the resurrected Voldemort of the future had no nose was surely because his nose had been stifled and ruined inside that turban while possessing Quirrell.
But don't celebrate too early. Just as the little wizards learned they wouldn't have to attend Quirrell's Defense Against the Dark Arts class—the "People's Good Professor," Snape, willing to dedicate himself to Hogwarts and thinking only of the students' academic performance, stepped forward at this moment!
"Why does Snape have time to moonlight in Defense Against the Dark Arts?!!"
After seeing the notice on the bulletin board in the house common room, the frantic little wizards let out miserable screams.
"Probably because of love."
As the know-it-alls of the crooked path, the twins slumped their faces and quipped, "Snape has been eyeing the Defense Against the Dark Arts class for a long time."
"But this means—"
"Double the points deducted!"
Covering their faces, the twins howled and wept into their hands. "Gryffindor is finished! Completely finished!"
"Maybe Snape isn't that bad. Maybe I can even get some points added!"
"What?!"
Hearing the familiar voice of their own brother beside their ears, Fred and George twisted their necks around with lightning speed, staring at Ron with a look of shock that said, "We must be meeting for the first time today."
"Do you have a fever?"
"He must have burned his brain."
"Maybe it's the aftereffects from last time."
"We should send Ron to St. Mungo's."
The twins roasted him one sentence after another, so seamless it sounded like one person speaking.
"I'm different from before!" Ron lifted his chin slightly with an air of pride. "Because I've started working hard. You two just wait and see!"
"Well, good luck to you."
"And a moment of silence for you."
The twins didn't take it seriously at all. He was their brother; they knew his temperament better than anyone. Saying he "fished for three days and dried nets for two" was putting it lightly, and calling it a "three-minute passion" was underestimating him a bit. So, let's say the rush of blood to his head would last fifteen minutes—no more than that.
Time passed day by day. Although they didn't ask students from other years how Snape's Defense Against the Dark Arts class was going, the hourglasses in the Great Hall faithfully reflected everything.
"You are the worst batch of students I have ever taught."
"And this is not limited to Potions class."
As soon as the first-year Defense Against the Dark Arts class began, Snape coldly dropped these words.
To reduce class hours, Snape's substitute Defense Against the Dark Arts class was held with all four houses together. In the large classroom, Snape's gaze swept coldly over the crowd.
"Regarding the idiotic homework Quirrell assigned you, more than two-thirds of the class actually wrote a pile of dog shit and handed it in. I don't care how you attended class before, but now, in my classroom, you had better listen seriously and seriously complete the work I assign."
The opening display of authority made the little wizards tremble. Although the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was on the third floor of the castle and much brighter than the dungeons, perhaps because winter had set in and it was snowing, the air in the classroom was freezing enough to make one shiver.
"Defense Against the Dark Arts—as the name implies, is a course on learning how to prevent oneself from being harmed by Dark Magic. Of course, this also includes some Dark Creatures and their magic."
"Unlike wizards, many magical creatures understand how to use magic from birth, especially those fellows hiding in the shadowy corners. They are very likely to take your life without you even knowing it."
This voice, hardly louder than a whisper, made the little wizards' hair stand on end. They constantly felt as if something behind the curtains or under the desks was secretly watching them, sizing them up with malicious intent to see which piece of meat was the most tender.
Perhaps in this classroom, Snape, who looked like a bat when he spread his robes, was the largest Dark Creature of them all.
"So now, who can tell me, what is Dark Magic?"
"Magic cast using a curse as a medium, and which requires the wizard to provide malicious emotions?"
Lynn raised his hand and spoke tentatively. In truth, he was also confused. He had read so many books, yet not a single one accurately explained what Dark Magic was.
None of those books provided a definable framework for Dark Magic.
"It seems the talk of you being unskilled at spells is true to the name," Snape remarked sharply, staring into Lynn's eyes. "A curse is merely the method used to construct a spell. Emotions can only reinforce magic; they do not affect whether the magic can be used."
"The kindest, most merciful person in the world can still use the Killing Curse to take a life. A villain with an evil heart can also drive a Patronus. As long as the magical power is sufficient, the magic will take effect."
"Dark Magic is not magic that floats on the surface of an incantation."
"But you got one point right. All magic designated as Dark Magic must possess one specific trait—"
Snape tapped the blackboard, and a line of words appeared on it.
Malice to harm others or other lives.
"Emotions are an amplifier for spells. The emotions and feelings a wizard injects into magic will affect the final result of a spell. In cases of insufficient magical power, intense emotions can make the magic you exert stronger. However, not every spell can be boosted by emotions without a limit. Without exception, the spells currently recognized as Dark Magic all have advantages in this regard that far exceed other spells."
"For example, the three Unforgivable Curses."
"The malice to kill other lives, the malice to control another's freedom, the malice to enjoy torturing others—these three extreme emotions are the three types of malice most needed by the Killing Curse, the Imperius Curse, and the Cruciatus Curse."
"Perhaps you might think that since you are only first-year wizards, these spells are too profound for you. But what I want to tell you is that when you encounter wizards who hold malice toward you, they will not care whether you understand these spells or not—as long as they know them."
"This is not alarmism. In America, separated from us by an ocean, wizards die for unclear reasons every day. Hogwarts protects you too well, because Hogwarts has too many protective enchantments. But Ilvermorny does not have the foundation of Hogwarts. The most recent murder targeting an underage wizard happened just fifteen months ago."
Snape curved his lips into a chilling smile. "But you will not stay in the school forever. And you cannot pray that every wizard you meet outside the school will be a good person."
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