This Hogwarts is not normal

On the fourth floor, Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

As soon as Quirrell walked in, he was dazzled by three rows of red gold-rimmed masks.

Faced with such a bold act, he walked to the podium in a good state of mind.

Without even looking at the roster, he opened the textbook on his own.

"Today we're going to talk about zombies, which are a kind of living dead that exist in southern America.

Zombies are characterized by gray skin and a rotting smell..."

Seamus below raised his hand.

"Professor, is there any difference between zombies and infernal corpses?"

Quirrell glanced at the textbook quickly, "They are all similar magical creatures, and even their weaknesses are basically the same."

Vincent raised his hand expressionlessly.

"Professor, isn't the corpse made of black magic? Can it really be called a creature?"

There was a momentary gleam in Quirrell's eyes.

"Yes—is that so?"

He stammered and looked out the window, "Their weaknesses are almost the same—ah, I remember wrong."

It's okay to coax children, but it's far from coaxing Vincent.

"Professor, because zombies have thoughts, they can be killed by smashing their brains.

But what method should be used to kill a thoughtless corpse? "

"This—" Quirrell flicked through the textbook in a panic.

"Yin Corpse——what is the Yin Corpse afraid of..."

The appearance of him talking to himself quickly aroused the laughter of the students in the audience.

As a professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, he didn't even know this kind of knowledge.

Vincent sat down calmly, but he was thinking about the deep meaning behind this performance.

Even if the Infernal Corpse cannot be touched in the first grade class, one day it will learn its weaknesses.

If Quirrell didn't want to say it, it was because he couldn't.

I don't want to say it because there is a problem with my performance, but I can't say it because of the big face on the back of my head.

Is it possible to have both?

He was thinking with his head down, but he didn't notice that the pair of eyes on the podium flickered again.

Not to mention him, all the students failed to find out.

Even Hermione, who was frowning tightly, only focused on whether the professor came through the back door.

"I—I remembered!"

Quirrell closed the textbook excitedly, "What the Infernal Corpse is afraid of is—light!"

Vincent in the audience rolled his eyes on the spot.

Zombies can move freely in broad daylight, which is basically the same weakness?

Not only did he have such a reaction, even Draco, who had been against him, rolled his eyes.

Compared with the pure black magic taught by Durmstrang, what Quirrell taught was really Tattered Defense.

Although the lion cubs couldn't see their faces wearing masks, their eyes that looked exactly the same as those of the little snakes were enough to prove how bad the class was.

"P-ordinary spells are also acceptable."

Quirrell opened the textbook again with some embarrassment, "Next, we—we're going to learn a simple spell."

He held the wand upside down in his hand.

"Ying—fluorescence flickering!"

three seconds passed,

Ten seconds passed.

"Professor, you've got your wand upside down."

He panicked and hurriedly straightened it.

"Zombies are—terrible..."

Seeing that big face full of fear, Vincent also frowned.

According to outstanding students expelled from Hogwarts,

Dumbledore's important helper against the first Dark Lord,

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Mr. Newt Scamander,

These disgusting looking zombies are actually quite cute in some situations.

It is said that a certain Muggle king of pop created a dance that became popular all over the world when he saw their weird behavior by accident.

It just so happened that he had this album, and it was a signed limited edition.

The red jacket on that body, the very rhythmic walking posture, it is really difficult to link it with horror.

Vincent, resting his cheek, focused on Quirrell's lit wand.

this texture,

this straightness,

It's not alder like him.

"Everyone—you can try it."

"Luminescence—"

The fifteen-inch long alder wand, the next second, a white light shone on the tip of the wand.

Quirrell's eyes widened, "Mr. Wayne, you are—"

Before he finished speaking, Hermione on the other side also lit up her wand.

"Hard—unbelievable."

These two beams of white light seemed to flash to Quirrell.

He shifted his head toward the Slytherins, and looked back suddenly with awe.

"Gryffindor plus 6 points."

Vincent was keenly aware that he had glanced at Harry, and he hadn't stuttered yet.

Just when he was about to test further, there was a sudden explosion sound from behind him.

Don't think about it, the blasting ghosts in the second row must have blown up something again.

"Bang-"

Seamus, with a dark face, knocked his forehead on the desk.

Dean, who was no longer dark beside him, stretched out his hand tremblingly.

"And breathing!"

The students all breathed a sigh of relief.

This master-level blasting ghost blew up a cauldron in potions class last week.

"Don't touch me!" Seamus, who straightened up suddenly, wiped his face, "I will definitely succeed!"

Quirrell poked his head out from under the podium, "Mr. Finnigan, do you—do you need to go to the school hospital?"

"No, Professor."

The students, who were used to seeing strong winds and waves, felt that the professor who retracted again was quite unreliable.

He was trembling with only one eye showing, and he was so timid that he couldn't be more timid.

With such a negative example, Neville recited the spell confidently.

"Fluorescent Blind—"

"Stop!"

Vincent was a step late.

The intense light emanating from the wand made the entire classroom feel like a super-powerful light bulb was installed.

"Ah—my eyes!"

The golden-haired classmate whose eyes were swollen not long ago had another tragedy.

He couldn't help but shed tears, each drop filled with resentment for Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

Hogwarts, a famous school for thousands of years, has actually been reduced to the point where it needs to teach shabby defense skills.

Bright lights come and go quickly.

Vincent, who was crouching under the desk with his head in his arms, was very thankful that his reaction was quick enough.

But even if he hid here for the first time, he was still not as fast as Quirrell on the podium.

Did this person do it on purpose?

It's fine if there is no slow motion demonstration of gestures, but there is no guidance on pronunciation.

"Big—how are you all?"

He still has half of his head sticking out.

When the students couldn't see clearly, Vincent found that he let go of his wand slightly.

Obviously, he just pretended it on purpose.

Deliberately acting like a coward, deliberately acting as utterly incompetent as a professor.

"Everyone - practice freely."

Quirrell sat back, but the whole person was timid.

No matter what he or the back of his head was thinking, Vincent's previous judgment was valid.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's methods of disarming people were too crude.

……

……