Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle.

Chapter 176 Moonrise and Moonset
"Mom, why does the moon look different every day?"

Someone was whispering in the darkness.

The sound seemed to come from a very far place, indistinct and vague, yet it sounded somewhat familiar.

"Mom doesn't know, do you? Can you tell Mom?" the witch said softly, with exceptional gentleness.

"The book says that the moon does not actually emit light; it reflects the sun's rays. But since it revolves around us, sometimes only a part of it is illuminated by the sun, and only a part reflects light, so it looks different every day."

"Really? My darling is so amazing! So, what kind of moon do you like?"

"I like the round moon, it looks beautiful!"

"..."

Remus felt a warmth in his heart as he overheard their conversation, as if he had returned to his childhood, when he too had once lay in his mother's arms, making a fuss about asking silly questions to pass the sleepless nights.

The sounds around him gradually faded away, his consciousness blurred, and Remus sank into the boundless darkness once again.

As morning light streamed through the window, the person lying in the shadows slowly got up, removed the towel from their mouth, untied the heavy iron chains binding their body, and leaned back on the sofa, letting out a long breath.

Looking out the window, the neighbors were already busy. A witch named Lisa put a lunchbox into her schoolbag, handed it to the chubby boy, and kissed his cheek before leaving.

The little boy was a bit shy, his face slightly flushed. He mumbled a few words as if complaining, then strode towards the school bus parked on the street and waved goodbye to his mother.

"..."

Seeing this, Remus couldn't help but smile, which then aggravated his bruises, causing him to wince in pain.

I reached out and pressed lightly. From my right shoulder to my left abdomen, there was a wound from an iron chain, interspersed with several abrasions. It must have been caused by struggling too much. There were also some bruises on my abdomen and knees. I didn't know exactly how they were caused, but they hurt a lot.

None of that matters, the main problem is that my clothes are torn again, it looks like a tear caused by wolf claws. The repair spell isn't working, so I'll have to sew them up when I get back tonight.

Remus frowned in annoyance, went into the bathroom, and splashed cold water on his face.

"call……"

The thawing snow and the freezing water made him shiver. His face, which had looked somewhat tired due to lack of rest, instantly brightened. Remus examined himself closely in the mirror; aside from his pale complexion and sore jaw, there were no noticeable injuries.

It shouldn't arouse the employer's suspicion, and the owl shop's handyman job can continue.

Remus breathed a sigh of relief, the tension in his mind completely relaxed, he washed up carefully, changed into a patched-up outfit, and began to enjoy the canned fish and jam bread he had brought back the night before.

The bread tasted good, the near-expiry jam had no off-putting smell, and the canned fish was delicious.

These small acts of kindness offer some solace to a life filled with hardship and difficulty.

After having breakfast, tidying up the chains, and putting the trash into a bag, Remus went out with light steps.

Werewolf disease, also known as mad wolf disease, is a dangerous infectious disease similar to draconian pox. Wizards infected with werewolf symptoms will transform into wolf form when the full moon rises. This form of werewolf differs from ordinary wild wolves, but is still a cruel and bloodthirsty beast.

Werewolves cannot choose whether or not to transform. Once transformed, they will forget their identity, lose all rationality, and may even seize the opportunity to kill their own family and friends. Most cruelly, after a werewolf has gone into a bloodthirsty state, they can still recall everything that happened during the transformation the next day.

Applying a mixture of silver powder and white cinnabar to a wound newly bitten by a werewolf can help heal the wound, but many victims would rather commit suicide than live as a werewolf.

Even when there is no full moon, those infected with werewolf disease are different from ordinary people. Their senses are more sensitive, they are particularly sensitive to fresh meat and blood, and they can hear sounds from dozens of feet away.

Because of this, Remus could hear the neighbors talking behind their window.

Do you think he might be that one?

"Probably not, Remus is a kind but pitiful person."

"It's like this when it's not flaring up, but who knows what it'll be like when it does?"

"Alright, Lisa, stop slandering others."

“How is this slander? He refused to come to our house last night, saying he had to get up early. Did you see him get up early?”

"It's probably just a bit of laziness, taking a few extra minutes to sleep, which is perfectly normal."

"What if he's transforming? Who knows what he's doing?"

"Don't talk nonsense!"

"I hope he isn't, but what if he is? We have a child!"

"This……"

"Call the law enforcement department over here. I'll apologize to him later if necessary."

"..."

Remus, who hadn't gone far, paused, quietly threw the trash into the bin, and then returned the way he came.

Back home, he rummaged through the corner of the wall to find his suitcase, packed up his patched and worn-out clothes, stuffed the chain inside, hesitated for a moment, and then took the leftover jam and black bread with him.

The wandering wizard packed his luggage very easily, and with the help of his wand, he only needed two or three minutes to carry his suitcase out again.

The bald wizard next door paused for a moment, then poked his head out: "Remus, are you going on a long trip?"

"Um……"

Remus forced a faint smile: "The boss asked me to go to Durham County to pick up a batch of trained owls. I was supposed to leave early, but I was delayed while packing my luggage."

"I see! Have a pleasant trip!"

Thank you! Goodbye!

"goodbye!"

"..."

Remus lowered his head, concealing his dark eyes, and dragged his suitcase across the path.

At the end of the street, the school bus was parked on the side of the road. It seemed to have stalled and broken down because it was too cold in winter. The school bus driver was a burly middle-aged man who was rummaging through the hood, his clothes stained with engine oil and dirty.

The children didn't want to sit in the car and wait idly, so they braved the cold wind to go outside and play, laughing and joking, wishing they would be late for school.

The chubby neighbor's child was also by the roadside. When he saw Remus pass by, his eyes lit up, and he hurriedly ran over: "Mr. Lupin, I need help!"

Remus stopped, crouched down, and looked at the Squib boy: "Do you need any help?"

"Our teacher asked us to prepare a myth about the moon, but I was so focused on watching the mirror yesterday that I forgot," the boy said, scratching his head somewhat embarrassed. "Mr. Lupin, do you know any stories about the moon?"

Remus thought for a moment: "In Norse mythology, the moon is pulled by a chariot, the horse is named Asvidal, and the god who drives the chariot is called Mani."

Why are they pulling the moon along and running?

“They don’t want to run either, they’re exhausted, but they can’t stop,” Remus said softly. “Because there’s a giant wolf following them, named Hati, who used to live in the Iron Forest. If it catches up with them, the Moon, Asvidal, and Mani will all be devoured.”

…… Friday.

One week into the new semester, things are getting back on track.

There's a Muggle Studies class in the morning, for seventh graders.

Melvin did not consider himself a lax professor and would not relax his requirements for students just because there were still four months until the exam. So, in the first week after students returned to school, he conducted a pop quiz.

Students exchanged and graded each other's test papers. When reviewing the test papers, students who answered questions incorrectly were asked to explain their own answers.

It was easy to torment the students while making things easy for myself, allowing me to get through a class.

There were no Muggle Studies classes in the afternoon, but there was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Just like last year, the mess Lockhart left behind was shared among the other professors. As arranged by Professor McGonagall, Melvin was in charge of the second-year curriculum.

In the last two weeks of the semester, Lockhart used the memories of other wizards to teach, and the effect was actually quite good. In addition, the knowledge points for the second year were simple enough, so these lower-grade students did not fall behind too much in their studies.

Following the revised syllabus, Melvin finished his lesson in a cheerful and relaxed manner, with half an hour remaining before the end of get out of class.

Since we were just killing time, we decided to randomly select students to ask questions. Those who couldn't answer could come to the front and embarrass themselves. Students who weren't selected didn't need to worry; they were informed in advance that there would be another round of questioning before class next week, ensuring that every student had a strong grasp of the lesson's key points.

With five minutes left in get out of class, Melvin casually asked, "Do you have any questions?"

As soon as he finished speaking, Seamus immediately raised his hand and asked, "Professor Levent, will we still be able to watch the Mirror program in the future?"

"We'll broadcast the news to you on Sunday night."

"Is it just the news? Can we watch something else?"

"No."

"Oh no!"

Melvin remained unmoved by their deliberately exaggerated wailing, casually muttering, "You are students. Students should study hard at school and not always think about playing. Every night before bed, you should ask yourselves: Have you remembered what you learned today? Have you finished your homework? Have you previewed tomorrow's lessons? You know, there are still twenty weeks until your exams."

Simo and Dean covered their ears and deliberately made painful expressions, as if they had been attacked by the Howling Banshee.

Harry chuckled along with them, then turned to look at Hermione and his smile vanished.

The little witch pursed her lips, her beautiful eyebrows furrowed slightly, and wrote down the professor's advice in her notebook, looking thoughtful.

Harry: ...

Could she really be taking it seriously?
At 5:00 PM sharp, the bell rang to signal the end of get out of class.

Melvin picked up his textbooks, which he had already packed up, and left the classroom with light steps.

……

At Hogwarts, both the school bell and the dismissal bell are rang with brass bells, rung by Mr. Filch, the caretaker. The small sound of the bells can be heard throughout the entire castle. The melody is very simple: the school bell is quick and lively, urging students who have not yet entered the classroom to hurry up, while the dismissal bell is relaxed and long, allowing students to walk slowly downstairs.

The students went downstairs as usual to prepare for their meal in the auditorium.

They were surprised to find a crowd gathered at the bottom of the marble staircase; the usually deserted bulletin board was bustling with activity.

Lee Jordan, with his dark skin, stood in front of the bulletin board, cleared his throat, and gestured for everyone to gather around; he was about to read the announcement.

"The Duel Club's second event will be held this Friday at 8 PM as scheduled. All interested students are welcome to participate. The instructor is—" Lee Jordan paused deliberately for a moment, "...Professor Felix Flitwick!"

The surrounding students immediately began to chatter and discuss.

"I knew it! Lockhart isn't coming back, and the Duel Club is getting a new instructor!"

"Ah... it's Professor Flitwick? I thought it was Professor Levent."

"Professor Flitwick was a dueling champion in his youth, so it should be him."

“Professor Levent is pretty good too. Remember the exhibition match in the last dueling class?” A little witch’s eyes sparkled. “I dare say that wasn’t his full strength!”

"According to you, Professor Snape was also very impressive."

"..."

Thinking of that cold, stern expression and gaze, the student next to him shuddered and immediately fell silent: "Then let's stick with Professor Flitwick."

Listening to their banter and jokes, Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed the crowd into the Great Hall.

Harry gripped his wand tightly, a hint of eagerness on his face: "This time I'm going to teach Malfoy a lesson!"

Ron scratched his head, wondering who his last duel opponent was. He'd been glared at by the Basilisk and spent several days in the school infirmary, his head still a bit foggy.

Never mind, let's eat first.

……

eight pm.

Professor Flitwick's dueling class was different from Lockhart's. There was no gilded stage or velvet carpet; there was only a simple platform. The candles that hadn't been used up last time floated in the air, and the bright moonlight poured down from the magical dome, illuminating the entire hall.

The college table has been moved out, and the auditorium is quite empty tonight.

The short Professor Flitwick stood on a triangular stool, clapped his hands to signal everyone to gather around, then turned to look at the two teaching assistants next to the platform and winked playfully.

Why are he and Snape still the teaching assistants?
Melvin walked onto the stage while muttering to himself.

Snape, standing beside her, moved with a black robe that billowed like a giant bat. His greasy black hair hung over his shoulders, obscuring half his face. His expression was blank, but a faint light flickered in his dark eyes.

"Professor Lockhart's last dueling class was rather rushed and poorly prepared. Although we witnessed a spectacular duel, and although Snape and Professor Levent tried to slow down their movements during the duel, the gap between them and you was too great, and the teaching effect was not very good. So this time I plan to use a different teaching method, letting everyone learn specific spells, rather than general duels, and with practice, the teaching effect should be better."

"Today we will learn the Ironclad Charm and the Disarming Charm. Later, the two professors will demonstrate them for us, and then we will practice in groups."

"Those who have already mastered two spells, step back and give the front seats to those who haven't mastered them yet."

The students who had gathered in front of the stage pushed and shoved each other for a while, but quickly quieted down, and many more younger students joined the front row.

Then came Professor Flitwick's specialty: spell explanation. However, unlike the spell class, the dueling class was more practice-oriented, focusing on the casting actions and incantations. It didn't cover much of the theoretical content, such as the origin and evolution of spells, their historical significance, or Latin spell grammar.

Professor Flitwick explained things very carefully and allowed students in the front row to ask questions and get answers on the spot, which was more effective than a classroom lecture.

The Disarming Charm is considered an intermediate-level spell, not very difficult, and many middle and upper grade students have learned it, but are not very proficient in it. The Armor Charm is an advanced-level spell, more difficult, and only a few sixth and seventh grade students have mastered it.

"Any other questions?"

"If not, let the two professors demonstrate for us."

"..."

Melvin looked up and met Snape's gaze.

(End of this chapter)