Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle

The other young wizards who didn't care about the House Cup gathered in twos and threes, chattering about their summer vacation plans and agreeing on a date to go shopping in Diagon Alley together.

The seventh grade students who would never return to school sat in their seats, quietly looking at the tables and chairs in the auditorium and the starry sky above. They didn't talk much, but were always listening.

Melvin, who arrived half an hour early, helped Professor Flitwick decorate the auditorium. He sat beside the main guest seats, observing the hundreds of candles floating in the air. He saw the excited Hagrid holding a glass and looking for people to clink glasses with. He cleverly moved to the side to reduce his presence.

At three minutes to seven, Dumbledore tapped the goblet with his silver spoon. The clear, trembling sound suppressed the noise in the hall:

"Another year has passed! Children, before you indulge in these delicious dishes, please listen to the old man's ramblings. This has been a wonderful and exciting year...

"You have a whole summer vacation waiting for you..."

Looking back on the past year and looking forward to the upcoming future, he urged students to enjoy the holidays but not to slack off in their studies.

Not only in magic schools, but also in schools all over the world, the speeches given by principals are in a similar tone. Dumbledore would occasionally insert one or two jokes to make the atmosphere in the hall even colder.

After saying the clichés, it’s time to calculate the college score:

"Now, we must first conduct the awards ceremony for the House Cup. According to the tally, the scores for each house are as follows: Slytherin, fourth place, with 312 points, followed by Hufflepuff, with 352 points; and Ravenclaw, with 426 points!"

"Finally, Gryffindor, 442 points!"

Looking at the blushing little wizards, Dumbledore smiled slightly, and his loud voice drowned out the cheers: "This means that we need to make some changes!"

As the headmaster announced that Gryffindor had won the house cup, the huge banner fluttering in the hall began to sway, and the Slytherin green snake painted on it quietly disappeared, replaced by the gold and red Gryffindor lion, and the silver and green ribbons also turned gold and red.

The Gryffindors' cheers almost overturned the magic dome, and the tables, chairs and tableware were shaking.

Looking at the little wizards celebrating wildly, Snape's face looked extremely ugly. When he thought of the test results that would be announced later, he felt a little happier.

Chapter 95: Being a professor, the most important thing is to be happy

Ten p.m.

The banquet lasted for nearly three hours and there was still no sign of it ending.

Fill your stomach with a variety of delicious dishes and enjoy desserts after the meal.

Hermione held a piece of avalanche strawberry cake, slowly scraped a layer of jam and cream with a spoon, put it in her mouth, and squinted her eyes in satisfaction.

Looking over to the side, Harry and Ron were leaning side by side on a bench, their bellies bloated and their eyes dull, as if their brains were filled with roasted chicken legs. Their plates were piled with bones, all gnawed clean.

Seeing that everyone had almost finished eating, Melvin looked at Professor McGonagall next to him and gave her a questioning look.

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips and nodded slightly.

"Ding!"

Melvin tapped the goblet with a silver metallic spoon. The shrill, vibrato-like sound attracted everyone's attention and the entire auditorium fell silent.

He did not speak immediately, but let the silence spread in the auditorium. A few lively little wizards wanted to make some jokes, but seeing the serious expressions of the professors, they did not dare to speak.

Sitting in the middle of the main guest seats, Dumbledore was sipping a piece of caramel pudding and looking at the young professor not far away with bright blue eyes, feeling very amused.

"We're about to leave school. The Hogwarts Express is parked outside the school, waiting for you to pack your bags and leave. If you don't say something now, the holidays will begin."

Melvin's voice echoed in the auditorium. He glanced at the four long desks of the academy. After a few seconds of pausing, he asked, "Do you know the results of your Defense Against the Dark Arts practical exam?"

Hermione felt a little nervous and had a bad feeling.

Professor Lewynter spoke slowly, and thinking about the abnormality during the exam that day, she had already made a conclusion in her heart that her test results in the first year of magic school should not be optimistic.

The other young wizards had similar feelings. The professor's expression was solemn and his tone was serious, and it was obvious that the result was bad.

"There are seven grades in the school, five of which were tested, and all five failed."

Hermione's breath hitched in disbelief.

"Look at these five grades. Among you are prefects, Quidditch captains, and student union presidents. Many of you are good helpers to professors and are good students in the eyes of your parents. And now, you all failed."

"Several professors worked hard to set up the exam room and handed it over to you, but you messed it up like this."

Melvin spoke slowly and calmly, with almost no emotion, but to the students, it was filled with deep sorrow and indignation. "As the professor who set the test, I even doubt it's my fault. I feel so sorry for the school, the president, and the other professors. I wish I could give myself a failing grade."

"professor……"

Hermione felt a little heavy-hearted for a moment and clenched her silver spoon.

Angelina and Alya were not far away, and next to them was the Hufflepuff table. Cedric remained silent. Hearing the usually friendly professor say this, they, who were taking Muggle Studies, felt very heavy-hearted.

"Cough cough..."

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat at the guest of honor table and gave Melvin a few glances, signaling him not to go too far and to get to the point.

Melvin felt the slowly growing magic, pretended not to see her gaze, and continued speaking in a slow and calm tone:

"Let's talk about the first level first. Faced with a dark cave with unknown conditions, no one thought of exploring. Professor Flitwick taught you over a dozen spells for exploring the situation, but you didn't use any of them: Illumination, Revealing, Flaming... or even just throwing a stone to explore the way?

"You're lucky. The Devil's Snares cultivated by Professor Sprout are gentle and slow-moving. They didn't attack immediately when they saw someone breaking into their lair. What if it was a poisonous tentacle? What about the Whomping Willow? What about a venomous snake?"

"Remember the red juice that stained your clothes?

“If it were Venom, you’d all be corpses by now.

"The entire school was wiped out!"

"You guys still want to be warriors against the mysterious man?"

"..."

Although they had vaguely anticipated this, the young wizards still felt their faces flushed when they heard the professor's calm and slow questioning in person, and they didn't dare to look directly into the professor's eyes.

They only wanted to show off and repeat the Warriors' adventures, and never thought about the right approach.

Percy buried his head deeply, feeling ashamed of himself. As the head of Gryffindor, he did not set a good example. At that time, he only wanted to surpass his younger brother Ron.

"Let's talk about the second level, the Transfiguration chessboard. Five grades of students, no one noticed that there was an aisle outside the chessboard. The aisle was wide enough for you to walk side by side. You didn't have to fight with the chess pieces, and you didn't have to make any sacrifices!"

"..."

Many students only felt a tingling sensation on their scalps, followed by Professor Lewinter's questioning.

"Do you think you're heroic?

"Do you think you're great?

“Alas, I only saw stupidity!

"To put it another way, even if we want to break through, why do we have to fight in person?

"The lower grade students have very little offensive magic at their disposal, so solving endgames is understandable, but what about the upper grades? Don't you know magic? Don't you know Transfiguration? Or, as Professor Snape would say, are your brains clogged by wizard chess?"

All the teachers and students present had no doubts and felt that this was something Professor Snape would say.

"..."

Snape's expression suddenly froze.

What does it mean that vulgar insults are directed at him?

"The last level was the most disappointing to me." Melvin shook his head slightly, "Faced with a bunch of unknown potions, you didn't trust the potion knowledge you learned, but instead chose to believe in a piece of light parchment.

"What if it's poison in there, what if it's venom in there?"

Melvin judged from the magical feedback that the student seemed a little numb. He paused and asked in a faint voice, "What if it's feces and urine from the sewer?"

"!!!"

Some students immediately opened their eyes wide, their faces turned pale, and they couldn't believe it.

A few students wanted to drink something to calm their nerves, but as soon as their lips touched the wine glass, they immediately remembered what the professor had said about shit and urine, and their stomachs churned.

Snape's eyes twitched slightly, and he felt that this guy was even more excessive than himself.

"I've always heard that Hogwarts is the oldest school of magic, and that its students have high overall qualities. After graduation, they will be highly regarded in other countries. Thinking back on your performance in the exam, do you think you deserve such praise?"

Melvin sighed and softened his tone: "Think about it."

"..."

Silence is Hogwarts tonight.

Professor McGonagall had a complicated expression.

The students are still young, the oldest being in the sixth grade, only seventeen years old. The wizarding world has been very peaceful over the years, with no wars or unrest, and few dark wizards. Moreover, the professors of the Defense Against the Dark Arts class have been replaced again and again, and there has been no systematic learning. Suddenly taking this kind of assessment and getting failing grades, I wonder if they will be hit hard.

Suddenly I felt a little sorry for these students.

Chapter 96 Set off!

The dinner was over and everyone returned to their dormitories.

Hermione lay on the four-poster bed, her hands resting on the edge of the quilt. She heard Lavender yawn, then let out a long, contented sigh, her breathing slowly becoming more even. There was a rustling sound from Parvati's bed; she always had to toss and turn before she found the most comfortable sleeping position.

This night seemed no different from the past three hundred nights. They would fall asleep under the starlight of the Scottish Highlands, but Hermione was unable to fall asleep. She didn't know whether it was because of Professor Lewynter's scolding in the hall or because the school year was about to end.

She is about to return to Hampstead Gardens on the outskirts of London and will not be able to perform magic for two and a half months.

Parvati in the next bed was still awake, her breathing still not calming down.

"Hermione... Hermione..."

Her voice, lowered, echoed from the dormitory: "I heard that you got full marks on all the other exams, but only failed the practical exam in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Is that true?"

"Ah."

The final grades had been handed out, and the little witch had secured first place in her grade with a commanding lead. Furthermore, Harry and Ron had also passed with flying colors. Neville had barely made it past the mark, though his Potions score was a bit weak, but his Herbology made up for it somewhat...

"Don't worry about it. I think Professor Lewinter is deliberately teasing us. Not to mention us, even if the Aurors were here, they would fail too."

The little witch in the darkness didn't respond. If it had been Professor McGonagall or Professor Flitwick presiding over the exam, there would definitely not have been such a ridiculous farce where the whole school failed. But when it came to Professor Lewynter doing something like this, for some reason, she seemed to think it was nothing wrong.

She curled up a little in the quilt and caught a glimpse of the stars through the window, which looked like hoarfrost, while the night sky outside was a dark deep blue.

The little witch began to reflect on her wrong thoughts and thought that her roommate was right and that failing the exam was not entirely her fault.

Blame it on Professor Lewinter.

……

At dawn.

Edge of the Forbidden Forest.

The gamekeeper and the hound woke up and began to wash and brush their teeth in the dim morning light. Yaya ran around the house, occasionally barking, but more often making low whimpers.