Days at Hogwarts

Chapter 165 Professor McGonagall's Reforms

Well, I've seen plenty of living Buddhas, but this is the first time I've seen a living Yama.

To prevent Ron from suffering further psychological trauma, Loren interrupted their conversation: "Since it's the effect of a spell, using a spell to stop it might be effective."

Taking out his wand, Loren struck Ron's stomach a few times with a spell to stop him.

The people sitting around him crowded around, curiously examining Ron's belly.

For a few seconds, Ron felt like some kind of strange animal being watched. He stared blankly at the people surrounding him, then at the slugs in the metal bucket, hesitated for a moment, and then "squeaked" out another slug.

However, compared to the other slugs in the bucket, this one was much smaller.

It's good that it works; at least Ron won't have to live a hopeless life as a snotty-nosed mom anymore. The onlookers breathed a sigh of relief and began to enjoy the refreshments Hagrid had provided.

"What are those Marcus bracelets that can deflect spells—" Harry put a piece of Hagrid's homemade syrup toffee into his mouth, but before he could finish speaking, his teeth were stuck together by the toffee.

Fortunately, Ginny listened carefully and understood what he wanted to ask: "Pure-blood families always have some protective gear, and it's not unusual for bracelets to reflect evil spells. He really should learn some of his mother's spells; bracelets can't protect against them..."

The rest of the conversation was vague. Ginny glanced up at Harry, who was grimacing and grimacing as he struggled with the toffee, and chuckled softly, not elaborating on the topic further.

She didn't want to reveal that she wanted to learn the bat spirit's spell, to learn her mother's skill of shattering to pieces; it didn't sound like something a lady would do.

Loren looked at Harry's contorted face and found it amusing. He reached out and grabbed a piece of syrup toffee, his eyes darting around in their sockets.

"We can't defend against spells that are too powerful," Loren said, casually turning to look at Hermione as he spoke about the bracelet. "Don't you think it's a bit like the Ironclad Charm?"

Hermione's thoughts were drawn in that direction, and she nodded unconsciously, opening her mouth: "It can parry—Ugh!!!"

The instant Hermione opened her mouth, Loren shoved the toffee into it and covered her mouth, allowing the syrup to melt quickly. Hermione's teeth were stuck together by the syrup, and she could only make muffled noises.

She stared at Loren in disbelief, her eyes wide, finding it hard to accept this shocking fact.

The people around them were still replaying what had just happened in their minds, their brains were still a bit blank, and their stunned expressions showed that they were also shocked.

Hermione immediately stood up, her pretty face flushed red, her fists clenched tightly. She couldn't take it anymore; she was determined to teach this person a lesson today.

"It's a joke! Just a joke!" Loren stood up and ran. He saw how sticky the toffee was and was suddenly blinded by his wicked sense of humor, unable to control his behavior.

Before he could even practice Apparition, recalling Hermione's enhanced physical abilities and the contents of that Krav Maga book, he quickly dashed out of Hagrid's hut and ran towards the castle.

Hermione couldn't care less about anything else and quickly followed him out, her lips tightly closed to prevent drool from spilling out, as she whimpered and chased after Loren.

Harry and Ron watched them run out, and for some reason, they felt like something had been stuffed into their mouths. They hadn't eaten much, but they felt a little full.

"How vibrant!" Hagrid exclaimed, snapping out of his reverie. "Let's not stay indoors any longer. Come on, I'll show you the pumpkins I planted."

……

The locker room next to the Quidditch pitch.

After finishing his first Quidditch training session, Draco took off his sweat-soaked team robes and put on Slytherin's magic robes.

Although his entry into the team was somewhat suspiciously backdoor-driven, Draco didn't think he was any less capable than Harry. If Harry could be the Seeker, then so could he.

Today's training session proved this point, and Draco was in a very good mood.

Crabbe walked in through the door, a strange look in his eyes, and asked in an eerie tone, "You really stole the show today, you must be very proud of yourself, right?"

Upon hearing this, Draco felt a chill run down his spine. He frowned and looked at Crabbe, who gave him a strong sense of unease today.

There are no permanent enemies, only permanent benefits.

Thinking about what his father had said during the holidays, Draco's expression changed, and he said, "If you also want to join the team, I can let you train with the team. You can join the team directly during next year's selection."

Crabbe's mouth twisted into a horrifying grin, his lips almost splitting open: "Is this your charity, Mr. Malfoy?"

This person is definitely not normal.

In an instant, many images flashed through Draco's mind: the conversation between the centaur and Potter, his father's cursing of old Crabbe, and the news that happened during the holidays.

There seemed to be a faint thread connecting all of this, but Draco couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Perhaps it was a talent inherited from the Malfoy family, but Dracoford calmed down as if guided by a sudden inspiration. He turned to straighten his uniform, naturally avoiding Crabbe's gaze: "Why do you say that?"

"Of course it's because you, a pureblood, are getting mixed up with those Muggles and half-bloods. I thought you'd abandoned us pureblood followers." Crabbe's eyes were full of violence and ferocity.

Draco tried to recall his past arrogance and pure-blood worship, playing the role of himself from a year ago: "I only talked to Harry Potter because he was somewhat famous and also a pure-blood."

"It's disgusting that he's hanging out with Mudbloods now."

Crabbe stood in the doorway, his expression uncertain, seemingly unsure how to deal with Draco.

Draco put his team uniform into his backpack, picked up the bag, and walked out of the locker room naturally. As he passed Crabbe, he glanced at him with an arrogant yet disdainful look: "Call Goyle over around this time next week. I'll lead you guys in Quidditch training."

As Draco walked away, Crabbe felt a little lost, but he was also tempted by the suggestion to join Quidditch.

The magic robe clinging to his body rustled, and a thin snake with red stripes emerged from the collar.

Voldemort was extremely pleased with the changes Crabbe had undergone in recent days. From being mindless to learning to think, from simple ruthlessness to insidious cunning—this influence was exactly what he had predicted.

The idea of ​​using living beings to create Horcruxes is correct, but the container needs some modification. Currently, things seem to be going well; all that remains is to split off another soul.

Having gained experience in creating the previous Horcruxes, he had long harbored the idea of ​​creating a living creature, or even a human, as a Horcrux, but he had never had the means to do so.

In fact, Voldemort did not want Crabbe to be the first living Horcrux. How could a crude, simple-minded little wizard be worthy of his soul fragment?

If given the chance, he would like to find a better container...

Nighttime, the corridor outside the professor of transfiguration's office.

Hermione walked ahead, skipping and hopping, humming Muggle pop tunes, her tongue occasionally brushing against her teeth, leaving a sweet aftertaste.

Although she felt a burning and slight pain in a certain part of her thigh, the little witch was in a very good mood overall.

Loren walked behind, one hand pressed against the right side of his neck, occasionally letting out a hissing sound of pain.

"If you use your scissor legs to clamp my neck again, I definitely won't let go," he said bitterly.

"Hmph, who told you to tease me?" Hermione raised her smooth, white chin, completely unfazed. "By the way, did Professor McGonagall say what we're here for?"

"Why don't you just go in and find out?" Loren knocked on the office door.

"Please come in."

The two pushed open the door and saw Professor McGonagall grading assignments. That's how a professor works: prepare lesson plans, give lectures, assign homework, grade assignments, and then repeat, repeat, and repeat again.

Because of Dumbledore's long-term slacking off, McGonagall, as the Vice-Headmaster of Hogwarts, had to do a lot more administrative work. Professor McGonagall would occasionally dream about the future, thinking that when she took over as Headmaster, she would definitely squeeze the next Vice-Headmaster dry.

"Just as I expected." Upon seeing the two, Professor McGonagall put the quill she was using to grade papers back into the inkwell, got up, and led them out of her desk to a cubicle in her office.

Almost all professors' offices have cubicles that serve as lounges, but Snape was a little different; he converted his cubicles into storage rooms and laboratories.

Professor McGonagall's room was decorated very warmly. She spent most of her time in the castle and rarely returned to her villa in Hogsmeade.

The room was furnished with an orange-yellow sofa, which, under the lamplight, made the whole room feel warm and bright. Some small wooden houses hung on the wall, and cushions stuffed with cotton sat in the corner, next to an empty cardboard box.

Loren's gaze swept around the room, his look at Professor McGonagall becoming somewhat strange. The cat professor's little quirk had been exposed...

Professor McGonagall placed the apple juice on the tray in front of the two of them and sat down opposite them: "I want to talk to you about something."

Loren and Hermione held their cups, waiting curiously for Professor McGonagall to continue.

"Hogwarts has seven years, and each year is divided into four houses. At most, two houses can attend classes together at a time. With seven years to manage, the professors are a bit overwhelmed."

Loren had noticed this situation before. For example, major subjects like Charms and Transfiguration were taught together by the two houses, with two to three large classes per week. That meant four classes per year, and 28 classes for seven years.

Including grading papers and assignments, as well as some extracurricular work, professors work almost non-stop with no rest time.

"This teaching system was established a long time ago by the school board, the Ministry of Magic, and the school. At that time, there weren't many young wizards choosing to attend classes at the school, and the professors were able to handle it."

"As Hogwarts' influence grows, more and more young wizards are choosing to attend the magic school. Even pure-blood families are abandoning homeschooling in favor of Hogwarts, making this system unsuitable."

"However, due to the Ministry of Magic's educational mandate and the interference of the school board, the application for curriculum reform has been repeatedly delayed. Now that we have regained full control of Hogwarts, perhaps some changes can be made."

Professor McGonagall's tone carried a hint of pride; seizing the opportunity to reclaim ownership of the school was something that no principal had ever accomplished.

"Professor, why don't you hire more professors?" Loren put down his cup and asked.

Professor McGonagall paused for a moment: "Although we have regained power, the school's funding still comes from the Board of Trustees, and the finances do not support us in increasing the number of professors."

"Moreover, Hogwarts involves too many things, and we must carefully screen every person in charge to avoid bringing bad influence and danger to the students."

"We are also exploring the possibility of financial independence. If schools have their own sources of income, this kind of coercion will be completely eliminated."

Professor McGonagall made no secret of the situation the school was facing and the reasons behind it to the two of them: "After discussions among the deans, we decided to pilot the new system in the second and fourth years. If it goes well, we will then implement it across the entire school."

This is because the situation in the other grades is more complicated. First graders have just entered school and are definitely not suitable as a pilot program. Third graders have a course selection system and cannot be used as a pilot program either.

Fifth graders need to prepare for the OWLs exam, sixth graders need to take advanced classes, and seventh graders, as soon-to-be graduates, need to consider employment issues and prepare for the NEWT exam. None of these three grades are suitable as pilot programs.

In summary, the second and fourth grades were the most stable, so they were chosen to pilot the new system.

"What's the new teaching system like?" Hermione asked.

"In terms of content, we have added and removed from the original courses, distinguishing between elective and required courses. The required courses are based on the original teaching content, merging highly related knowledge and removing some content. The elective content consists of the removed parts, as well as some extensions and advanced topics."

This reduces the workload of professors by moving some of the original content to electives, allowing capable young wizards to master the elective content and lay the foundation for advanced knowledge.

On the other hand, elective courses are not required to be mastered, which reduces the learning burden for young wizards with poor grades.

"Professor, won't this make the gap even wider?" Loren immediately noticed the trend of this development.

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips, recalling the scene a few days ago when the deans of various colleges gathered to discuss teaching reforms.

Snape leaned against a pillar, his face hidden in the shadows. "It must be admitted that the gap between some wizards is greater than the gap between a wizard and a troll. Stuffing too much knowledge into some people's heads is torture; some of it is completely useless and will be quickly forgotten after graduation. Take our newly hired Professor Lockhart, for example, isn't he a case in point?"

"It's cruel to give Mr. Longbottom and Miss Know-It-All the same education and use the same standards to evaluate them."

"Elective courses are good for both types of people."

Professor McGonagall shook her head, banishing those memories from her mind: "The knowledge covered in the elective section won't affect the exam; it's considered self-study material, and—"

Professor McGonagall paused for a moment, then said, "Professors are not omnipotent; we all have our limitations. The acquisition of knowledge depends more on yourselves."

"The professor will not refuse any student's request for help; he is simply giving you the choice now."

(End of this chapter)