Harry looked at Umbridge seriously and said, "I'm very sorry, Professor Umbridge, but I have to tell you that Hogwarts has never taught students useless things. Everything we teach students has practical value.
"So in Defense Against the Dark Arts, you must explain how to cast defensive spells."
Umbridge had not expected Harry to show her so little respect. However, because of Harry's strength, and because she was afraid he might act directly in class and humiliate her in front of everyone, Umbridge forced down her anger and said, "Mr. Potter, you are still young and do not understand what education truly is, so please do not interrupt a professor. I will teach all of you properly."
But Harry did not move an inch. He repeated, "Professor Umbridge, I am telling you solemnly, defensive spells must be taught in Defense Against the Dark Arts. I do not want to repeat myself a third time."
Harry's blunt words made Umbridge completely lose control.
Her fingers suddenly clenched the pink lace tablecloth at the edge of the lectern, her knuckles turning white from the force.
Her cheeks puffed up like an inflated pufferfish. A venomous gleam flashed in her tiny eyes, and her sickly sweet voice suddenly rose in pitch, like fingernails scraping across sheet metal.
"Mr. Potter, I have been speaking to you politely, yet you have not shown the slightest desire to communicate with me. Very well, then I will tell you the truth!
"Defensive spells? The Ministry-approved curriculum does not include such dangerous things!
"Who do you think you are, Dumbledore's little mouthpiece?
"I am the professor of this subject. What to teach and how to teach it are not matters for a student to point fingers at!
"It seems you had far too much freedom over the summer, but never mind. I will make you understand that at Hogwarts, professors are the ones who make the rules.
"Now sit down, or I will deduct a great many points from your House and complain to Dumbledore!"
A cold curve appeared at the corner of Harry's mouth. His fingertips tapped lightly against the old desk. His voice was not loud, but every word was clear.
"Rules? That's right, I really can't make Hogwarts' rules. But you seem to have forgotten that Hogwarts' rules have always been decided by Headmaster Dumbledore.
"You are more than welcome to go complain. Ask him whether he supports your grades-above-all lesson plan, or whether he cares more about whether students can keep themselves alive in the dark."
"You!" There was no need to ask at all. Umbridge knew that, with Dumbledore's personality, he would definitely choose the young witches and wizards' lives.
Harry did not care about Umbridge's furious attitude. Suddenly, he lowered his voice, as if he were talking about something completely unimportant.
"Speaking of which, quite a few Ministry officials have gone missing recently, haven't they? I heard some of them were even your old colleagues from the Improper Use of Magic Office."
He paused, watching Umbridge's face abruptly stiffen, then slowly added, "They can't all have gotten lost on their own. The Death Eaters' list doesn't distinguish between who is a Senior Undersecretary and who is an investigator.
"Tell me, if one day you disappeared from Hogwarts too, would that also be the Death Eaters' work?"
When the last word fell, the classroom was so quiet that the soft sound of a quill dropping could be heard.
But that was only what Umbridge thought. In reality, her senses had been completely controlled by Harry. Only she could hear the words Harry had just spoken.
In the eyes of the other young witches and wizards, the two of them had only been silently staring at each other.
Seeing that Umbridge had finally become obedient, Harry's tone returned to calmness, but it carried unquestionable resolve. "Now, either teach defensive spells, or go confront Headmaster Dumbledore. Choose, Professor Umbridge."
Umbridge's face looked as if a jar of beet sauce had been knocked over, red from the roots of her ears all the way down to her chin. Her fingers twisted the bow on her sleeve so tightly that the ribbon was wrung into a rope.
The fury in her chest nearly burst through her throat. Every strand of hair on her head seemed to be screaming for her to cast a curse on Harry, but the moment she met those cold green eyes, the roar in her throat suddenly stuck halfway.
"Heh… hehe." She suddenly released her grip, her fingers fumbling across the lectern as though searching for something to support her.
The smile forced onto her face looked uglier than crying, like a mask stitched onto her skin with needle and thread.
"Mr. Potter is truly… forthright." Her voice was so sweet it was cloying, but it could not hide the trembling underneath. "Of course, the essence of education is listening to students' needs."
She abruptly turned around, waved her wand, and the letters on the blackboard changed again.
"Defensive spells…" She gritted out the three words as if chewing something impossible to swallow. "Today, we will… begin with the Shield Charm."
Because the world situation was growing increasingly tense, Harry spent more of his free time taking Hermione and Ron to the training grounds to practice magic.
"Railgun!"
Violent lightning formed an electromagnetic field in front of Hermione. A metal sphere was continuously accelerated by the field, then shot forward at several times the speed of sound.
Ahead of her, an Acromantula was struck by the metal ball in despair, and its entire body shattered under the tremendous impact.
Hermione's chest was still rising and falling violently. The loose strands of hair at her forehead had been swept into disarray by the wind stirred up by the spell. She looked at the shattered remains of the Acromantula not far away, and a flash of amazement crossed her eyes. Then she suddenly turned around and looked at Harry, her eyes astonishingly bright.
"Harry! I really did it!" She rushed over in a few steps and tightly hugged Harry's arm. Excitement still filled her voice, and the end of her sentence trembled slightly. "That attack just now… the lightning, and the speed it flew out at… I never imagined I could cast magic this powerful!"
She lifted her head, the tip of her nose almost touching his shoulder, and her voice was filled with sincere gratitude.
"If you hadn't helped me adjust the spell's release point over and over, and told me how to control the strength of the electromagnetic field, I'd definitely still be staring blankly at that metal ball."
Harry reached out and patted Hermione's little head, smiling brightly. "No, this isn't all my credit. Your own effort was important too."
Seeing this scene, Ron immediately turned sour.
"Hey, could you two care about my feelings for a second?
"Hermione mastered Railgun, but I still haven't. That's already enough to wound me, but now I have to watch you two acting all lovey-dovey while I'm sad?"
Harry and Hermione were a little embarrassed, and the two of them separated.
Harry smiled and encouraged Ron. "Keep going, Ron. You're almost there too.
"When the time comes, the electromagnetic version of the Shield Charm and Railgun, one defense and one offense, will be enough for you to protect yourselves in the chaotic wizarding world ahead."
Ron nodded. Electric sparks appeared in front of him again. He had to work even harder. He could not fall too far behind.
Just then, a low roar suddenly came from deep within the Forbidden Forest. It was like a string snapping in the wind, carrying a strange penetrating force as it swept past the three of them.
Harry abruptly raised his head. His gaze passed over the swaying tree shadows and looked toward the pitch-black woods, his brows furrowing slightly.
He said to Hermione and Ron, "Wait here. Keep in contact through the Lending System. I'll go take a look."
Ron had just started to say something, but Harry had already turned and rushed into the shadows of the Forbidden Forest.
The wind in the trees carried the damp scent of rotting leaves. Dry branches snapped in small cracks under his feet.
Harry followed that faint, intermittent roar through the dense undergrowth, finally stopping in a clearing.
The situation here was different from the danger he had imagined, where some mischievous young wizard had gotten into trouble. Instead, it was rather beautiful.
Luna was half-crouched in the center of the clearing. Sunlight spilling through the gaps between the leaves fell over her pale-gold hair, reflecting a brilliant golden glow.
She stretched out her slender fingers and gently stroked the neck of a Thestral.
The Thestral's huge black wings were folded at its sides. Its glowing eyes were like two balls of ghostly blue flame in the dim forest. The roar from earlier had clearly come from it. At this moment, it was docilely leaning against Luna, its long mane trembling softly under her fingertips.
When Harry saw Luna, Luna naturally noticed him too.
"Hello, Harry." Her voice was like the wind in the woods, so light it seemed almost ready to scatter. "I suppose you heard them?"
She raised her hand to indicate the Thestral beside her, her fingertips still resting on its smooth neck.
"That's right," Harry said. Then he lowered his head and saw Luna's bare white feet. He could not help feeling a little puzzled. "You're barefoot. Aren't you cold?"
Luna's expression remained as usual, with only a faint hint of distress. "Yes, a little. But I really have the worst luck. Every time I get new shoes, they mysteriously disappear for no reason."
Harry looked at Luna's feet, and his brows immediately furrowed slightly.
He thought of Luna's nickname, Loony Lovegood.
That nickname was like a filthy rag, casually thrown onto her by those self-important people, as if her strange ideas and her different kind of gentleness had all become reasons for them to mock and bully her.
Her new shoes mysteriously disappeared?
How could that be bad luck?
It was clearly deliberate!
Harry did not directly reveal the emotions in his heart. Perhaps he was wrong. He planned to investigate after going back. If things truly were as he thought, then he would handle this matter properly.
Immediately afterward, Harry thought of something and changed the subject.
"Sorry, forgive my rudeness. I know wizards can see Thestrals because they understand death and have witnessed death. So, Luna, why can you see Thestrals?"
Luna lowered her head slightly, her expression dimming with sorrow.
The Thestral nuzzled against her feet. She lowered her head and stroked its ear, then continued, "My mum used to do experiments in the attic. One time, she tried to make a potion that could laugh. You know, the kind that would make whoever drank it burst out laughing."
Her fingertips unconsciously curled a strand of her own hair, and her tone sounded as if she were talking about something ordinary.
"That day, I heard a very loud explosion from the attic. When I ran up, she was lying on the floor, still clutching a broken bottle in her hand.
"Dad said she had gone to keep the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks company, but I knew death had found her first."
"I'm sorry."
"It's all right, Harry. It happened a long time ago. I was very sad back then, but I still had Dad. I let it go a long time ago." Luna smiled gently.
What a gentle girl, Harry thought.
It seemed he needed to give those young witches who were bullying her a much deeper lesson.
Finding the young witches who were bullying Luna was not hard. On the way back from the Forbidden Forest, Harry and the other two encountered Luna surrounded by several young witches.
Harry then helped Luna out of the situation and frightened those young witches with a few words. They immediately burst into tears and admitted their mistakes.
After that, Harry made them go to the trophy room and polish trophies for two weeks as punishment.
That day, Harry returned to the Chamber of Secrets beneath the girls' bathroom.
Today was an important day for him, because Violette would break free today. She would be able to fully control the incomparably powerful ancient magic inside her.
By then, their reformist faction would gain another powerhouse who surpassed Dumbledore.
On the stone walls of the Chamber of Secrets, the serpent carvings shone coldly under the eerie green firelight. The damp air floated with the scent of ancient dust and the lingering traces of magic.
Harry raised his wand and walked through the winding passage. The soles of his boots stepped against the smooth stone floor, sending hollow echoes through the chamber.
At the end, in the center of the circular stone room, Violette hovered in midair, her entire body wrapped in a surging mass of silver magic.
That light was like liquid moonlight, yet it carried a terrifying fluctuation. At times, it swelled like silver flame. At times, it contracted like a bowstring pulled taut, making her hair whip violently around her.
"Violette!" Harry called in a low voice, and silver-white light shone from the tip of his wand.
When Violette saw Harry arrive, she smiled in delighted surprise. "Harry, you're here. Can I really break free today?"
Harry smiled back. "Don't worry, Violette. I've got this!"
Harry stepped forward, his gaze sweeping across the ground. After observing it, he understood how the magic circle should be carved.
He took three steps back, planted both feet steadily on the stone floor, and raised his wand, sweeping it in front of him.
"With ancestral blood as the guide, and the veins of the earth as the medium…"
A low incantation spilled from his mouth. Golden streams of light shot from the tip of his wand and drilled into the ground as if alive.
As the incantation advanced, golden light rapidly interwove across the floor and finally formed a complex magic circle beneath Violette's feet.
At the center of the magic circle, a flower made of glowing lines slowly bloomed. Every petal was engraved with runes of control and guidance.
"Focus! Breathe with the rhythm of the light flow!" Harry shouted.
At first, Harry's strength in the wizarding world had been reduced threefold. After he broke through to the Skyfather-level, for some unknown reason, that multiplier had continued rising. Now, compared to his strength in the multiverse world, his power had been reduced by a full ten times!
And because there was simply too much ancient magic inside Violette, even guiding that magic was rather strenuous for Harry under his weakened state.
He could feel the magic circle drawing out his magic, forming a gentle yet firm bridge that linked to the silver magic inside Violette.
At first, the silver magic resisted that external guidance, crashing against the edge of the magic circle and scattering tiny sparks.
But under the continuous pull of the golden light streams, it gradually became obedient, like a raging flood being guided into a river channel, seeping bit by bit into Violette's body.
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