Friday.
A new day dawned, and young wizards continued to enthusiastically discuss yesterday's class, a wave of excitement that crashed upon the school like a tumultuous sea, injecting a powerful dose of vitality into their mundane campus lives.
What were they discussing a few days ago?
The perfectly handsome Professor Lockhart?
But now that news has been swept away by the rain and wind, not just because Lockhart's performance in class was disappointing — even the term "disappointing" was a result of some die-hard fans controlling the narrative.
More importantly, Professor Harp has become the idol professor of the new generation, subtly trending towards replacing the "heartthrob" title held by Professor Lockhart.
This has left a certain Dark Arts Defense professor quite annoyed.
Lockhart paced around his office, his once flowing and gentle golden hair now a bit limp. The dozen or so portraits hanging in the office displayed matching expressions of irritation.
"I must come up with a solution, yes, a solution... Merlin's beard! He's truly a master of stealing the spotlight!"
Before coming to Hogwarts, he believed that only the famous Harry Potter was qualified to contend for the headlines of the Daily Prophet. He was mentally prepared for that. But now, he had to admit that he had encountered a formidable competitor.
This reminded him of the detestable Rita Skeeter. A few years ago, he also vied against that Skeeter for the title of best-selling author. Although he lost in the end, it was because that woman cheated, revealing his dark history from his school days in the newspaper!
However, he wasn't one to be trifled with either. Didn't Skeeter know how unpopular he was during his school days?
Professor Lockhart loosened the tight robes around his chest. Those were truly passionate and fiery times! He felt his fighting spirit rekindling.
"A formidable opponent, eh?" He stopped in front of a full-length mirror, pumping himself up. "Gilderoy, you're facing a battle right now. Someone wants to outshine you! What will you do?"
Seeing himself in the mirror, he felt somewhat at ease. With a face this handsome, how could he possibly lose?
Leaving aside the incident that occurred in this small office, in the wider wizarding community, Felix's popularity index had soared to new heights, and everyone was looking forward to his official lectures.
"Perhaps he'll continue the magical puppet duels in class? Remember, many people didn't get a turn yesterday." Ron, with a beef pasty in his left hand and a fork stabbing a potato in his right, didn't let his mouth rest either.
"Maybe, but we're only in our second year, Ron. Remember?" Harry responded more sensibly.
Ron widened his eyes, "Harry, you've shattered my first dream of the year." He bumped his arm against him, "Do you know what I was thinking? I was just imagining using a magical puppet to knock Malfoy senseless..."
Ron closed his eyes, making a dreamy expression, "Malfoy's robes caught fire from a big fireball, he tried to dodge, but it was useless. My magical puppet was too fast! He wanted to cast curses, but it was useless too, because the magical puppet was too small and he couldn't aim!"
Harry silently ate his pasty. He felt that only Ron would struggle to aim, given that his wand had broken in half.
Hermione, who was eating breakfast while reading a book on the side, lifted her head and corrected, "Ron, I must remind you that Professor Harp mentioned in the class that the magical puppets release only basic flames for the safety of young wizards. Their power is nothing compared to the roaring flames of our own Fire-Lion Spells."
Ron seemed to be choked by his beef pasty suddenly, unable to say a word. He didn't remember Professor Harp saying that, but Hermione was usually right about these things. He mumbled quietly, "It's your Fire-Lion Spell, neither Harry nor I can do it. I think you forgot."
Hermione hmphed.
"Aren't you supposed to be reading? Haven't you finished?"
"I think I told you just yesterday, I have twenty books on my reading list!"
Ron fell silent.
Harry became interested in what Hermione was saying and couldn't help asking her, "Hermione, how much do you know about this professor? Ron and I missed the start-of-term feast." He was referring to their adventure in Mr. Weasley's flying car, which spanned a good portion of Britain.
As a result, he and Ron had to nervously hide in Snape's dungeon, fearing expulsion. Fortunately, they weren't expelled from school, and they didn't lose any House points. Professor McGonagall even provided them with food.
However, with such an incident, returning to the feast openly was impossible. Ron had missed his younger sister Ginny's Sorting ceremony because of it.
Hermione rapidly and fluently provided the information she had heard at the feast, "Professor Harp graduated from Hogwarts, Slytherin House —"
"Slytherin!" Ron suddenly exclaimed, but Hermione gave him a fierce glare, and he lowered his head to nibble on a pastry.
"Yes, Slytherin. He's nine years older than us and has just graduated three years ago. However, he's quite famous. The older students at school know him well. Professor Harp excels in Ancient Runes, spells, Transfiguration, Muggle Studies, and of course, dueling."
"Dueling?" Harry was taken aback. In his mind, Professor Harp clearly wasn't a fraud like Lockhart, but he also appeared refined, somewhat like a teacher he had at his Muggle school.
It was hard for him to associate Professor Harp with the word "dueling."
"That's right." Hermione glanced left and right, then lowered her head and lowered her voice cautiously, "It's said that he's a Muggle-born and he arrived at Hogwarts just after the downfall of You-Know-Who. The Slytherin students weren't very friendly to him initially, but... "
"But what?"
"But he fought back fiercely with spells. The older Slytherin students are scared of him because he's given them a lesson."
Harry and Ron had dreamy expressions on their faces.
Honestly, they also wanted to give a few Slytherins a lesson.
But the rumors Hermione heard were obviously wrong. By now, Felix Harp was in his fifth year when the current seventh-year students entered Hogwarts. Did he really have a reason to give them a lesson? Naturally, there would be someone to teach them how to behave.
During Potions class, the young wizards were still discussing the previous day's Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. Harry could clearly see Draco Malfoy in the group of Slytherin students, loudly boasting about his "relationship" with himself and Professor Harp, claiming they had a close connection.
Harry couldn't help but think, perhaps it was a "beating-up" kind of connection.
Ron was also enthusiastically describing the scene of his magical puppet duel in the previous day's lesson. From his words, it sounded as if he and Harry were engaged in a live duel, not the magical puppets.
"Silence!"
Snape's voice echoed from the back of the classroom, instantly silencing the young wizards. This professor walked with an air of intimidation, his black robes making a "swishing" sound, and his presence had a +10 intimidation factor.
He surveyed the room, his gaze settling on Harry Potter, causing him to tense up. However, Snape shifted his gaze away. This time, he fixed his eyes on Ron and mockingly said with his characteristic low voice, "Ronald Weasley... yes, you've certainly been quite the spectacle these past few days. However, you should focus on improving your abysmal Potion grades. I don't want to see another 'T' on your end-of-term exam."
Slytherin students burst into laughter in unison.
Ron's face turned crimson, and he gripped his broken wand taped back together. He looked like he wanted to curse Snape on the spot.
"And Miss Granger, put away that extracurricular book of yours. This is Potions class, not Ancient Runes. You still have a year before electives."
Hermione reluctantly closed her book.
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