0337 New Professor, New Course?

“Damn, I forgot about that!”

Harry slapped his forehead and said,

“Sirius was wrongfully imprisoned by the Ministry for so many years. He must not be aware of the situation. What do you think, should I go and warn him?”

“Don’t worry, mate!”

Ron frowned and said,

“We all know that being the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor isn’t a walk in the park, but there have been exceptions, haven’t there?”

“You mean like Professor Watson?” Harry’s eyes lit up.

“Exactly!”

Ron said thoughtfully, glancing at Professor Watson who was elegantly cutting his lamb chops.

“If it weren’t for Sirius, we might never have figured out the truth about scabbers–“

Thinking about Peter, who had been lurking around them all this time, Ron’s face turned pale, and he shivered,

“We definitely can’t just sit back and watch Sirius follow in Professor Lupin’s footsteps, Harry. If I were you, I would go ask Professor Watson how he managed to avoid those misfortunes!”

As he was enjoying his dinner, Bryan suddenly felt several pairs of eager eyes fixed on him. He nonchalantly raised his head and saw Harry and his friends staring at him intently. He raised an eyebrow, wondering what these particularly troublesome kids were fixated on him for this time. But then, he shook his head, not bothering to guess.

At the staff table, most of the professors welcomed Sirius Black’s sudden appearance in their ranks, but there were exceptions, of course.

Professor McGonagall had been the Head of Gryffindor House when Sirius was a student at this school. No one knew better than her how much trouble Sirius’s little group had caused back then. She was happy that Sirius had not betrayed the Potters, but the thought of him becoming a professor teaching the young wizards made her heart sink.

As for Snape, nothing more needs to be said.

Their camaraderie as ‘teammates’ in battling Greyback and his werewolf pack paled in comparison to the grievances they had held against each other in the past.

While Sirius had indeed not betrayed Lily, Snape had not forgotten that it was Sirius’s foolish suggestion that led to Lily’s death. And the eloquent Sirius had also learned from conversations about how Severus had treated James and Lily’s son over the years.

To be honest, due to these new and old grievances, if they were in a different situation, the two of them might have already started fighting. Even here, whenever their eyes met unintentionally, they could sense the raw hostility in each other’s gaze!

Ding ding ding!

Just as Professor McGonagall finished lecturing Sirius, Dumbledore timely tapped his glass with a silver soup spoon. As the clamor in the Great Hall gradually subsided, Dumbledore responded to the hundreds of shining eyes with a twinkling smile.

“Please allow me to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor—”

Dumbledore winked mischievously and said cheerfully,

“But I suppose you are already quite familiar with him, aren’t you?”

 *Scenebreak*

The three young wizards from Slytherin house who were previously harmed in a series of incidents had healed and been discharged from the Hospital. Simultaneously, the beloved Headmaster Dumbledore and the recently renowned Professor Watson had also returned to their respective posts. Perhaps most remarkably, Sirius Black, the enigmatic figure whose name had been a subject of intense scrutiny and speculation for nearly a year, had astonishingly been appointed as the new Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

With such significant changes unfolding in a single, fateful night, the youthful students found themselves gripped by an electrifying sense of anticipation and excitement that had not coursed through their veins in ages.

Even after indulging in the sumptuous feast laid before them in the Great Hall, their stomachs sated to the brim with mouthwatering delights, the eager pupils lingered, stubbornly unwilling to leave. Their gazes were upon the newly appointed Professor Black, whose infectious smile had not faded throughout the evening as he engaged in animated conversation with his colleagues at the staff table.

The murmurs and whispers among the students swelled into a veritable buildup of buzzing discussions, speculating excitedly about the upcoming Defense Against the Dark Arts classes under Professor Black.

Indeed, there were many aspects of this topic to discuss.

Would Professor Black teach them wondrous magic arts he used to escape from Azkaban? How would Professor Black’s teaching skills compare to those of the Professors Lupin and Watson, who had previously held the post?

And, as Harry Potter’s beloved godfather, would the newly minted professor turn a willfully blind eye to the unfair treatment that his godson had endured in the Potions classroom, or would he take decisive action to rectify the injustice?

What would he do then?

Drag Professor Snape out of the dungeons and give him a good beating?

The prospect of Professor Black dragging Professor Snape from the damp dungeons and giving a well-deserved thrashing was a tantalizing prospect that ignited the flames of heated debate among the young wizards especially the Gryffindors.

Ron had great confidence in Sirius; he swore that Sirius would definitely shove that Bat’s head into the Black Lake to give him a good scrub, even if he had witnessed firsthand how Snape had torn apart those werewolves in the Forbidden Forest.

Throughout the loud evening, Harry’s gaze remained resolutely fixed upon the trio of Dumbledore, Professor Watson, and his godfather Sirius, at the staff table. An unprecedented sense of security and safety filled his heart, imbuing him with an extraordinary source of happiness and contentment. Although he knew that the prospect of Sirius compelling Snape to bathe in the Black Lake was unlikely to materialize, Ron’s vivid and colorful description still amused him greatly.

Yet, amidst the jolly atmosphere, there were new colleagues whose interactions demanded rapt attention.

While Sirius mingled freely at the staff table, his bubbly demeanor a stark contrast to the solemnity of his surroundings, Bryan was engaged in a discussion of great importance with Dumbledore.

“First and second-year students are still in the developmental stages of laying the foundations of their magical education, so I do not plan to involve them in this attempt just yet,” Bryan explained, his voice resonating with conviction.

“Beginning with the third and fourth-year students seems more appropriate. The older students will need to focus on preparing for their OWL and NEWT examinations, which will take up a lot of their energy. However, once this initiative becomes an established routine, the older and more talented wizards can join my advanced classes based on their personal wishes.”

As Bryan outlined his meticulously conceived plan. But strangely, Dumbledore, who was listening attentively, had a serious expression.

“Do you think this is necessary, Bryan?” Dumbledore asked, his tone tinged with a hint of hesitation. “I am more inclined towards organizing it in the form of extracurricular clubs, similar to Minerva’s Transfiguration Club or Severus’s Potions Club. This approach has a longstanding tradition at Hogwarts and would undoubtedly be more readily accepted both by students and the faculty.”

A pensive silence enveloped Bryan as he cast his gaze downwards, surveying the jubilant groups of students occupying the Great Hall, their youthful faces aglow with unrestrained laughter and happiness. After a momentary pause, he resumed his patient efforts to persuade the Headmaster, his tone measured yet unyielding.

“This is a necessity, Headmaster,” he affirmed with quiet conviction. “Hogwarts must impart tangible skills to its students and truly equip them with the means to protect themselves. While it is undeniable that the evolution of magic has increasingly oriented its applications towards easing our daily life as times change, but certain ancient arts are far from being obsolete or abandoned.”

Snape had already taken his leave of the Great Hall halfway through the feast, and after securing Dumbledore’s acquiescence to his proposed curriculum, Bryan’s gaze flashed towards the jolly Sirius, still immersed in pleasant atmosphere, before he, too, departed the staff table with a quiet, unobtrusive grace.

As he traversed the threshold of the Great Hall, the noisy voices swiftly dissipated, replaced by an enveloping silence that blanketed the world around him. Bryan did not hasten his steps towards his office; instead, he ascended the rotating staircase, climbing several floors before embarking upon an aimless stroll through the ancient, hushed corridors that permeated the castle with an aura of mystery.

The flickering flames of the torches lining the stone walls blended seamlessly with the mellow caress of the moonlight, casting a warm, inviting glow upon the hallways. A comfortable evening breeze floated through the closely huddled buildings of Hogwarts, carrying with it the faint scent of pine from the Forbidden Forest.

At the forest’s edge, Hagrid, having returned to his humble abode earlier to tend to his faithful hound, Fang, had lit the candles within his modest wooden cabin.

Hogwarts had regained its customary tranquility and serenity.

Perhaps due to his deep appreciation for the homely atmosphere that permeated Hogwarts, Bryan found himself savoring this hard-earned breather of ease after the relentless onslaught of mundane affairs that had plagued him of late.

He had been contemplating the matter he had discussed with Dumbledore in the Great Hall for some time now. It was precisely Draco’s request when Bryan visited him in the hospital that prompted the previously hesitant Bryan to further advance his plan.

The wizarding world had enjoyed an extended period of peace, and most wizards born and raised within its embrace were proficient solely in the magical arts relating to their chosen work, abandoning the combative spells and ancient magical practices as if they were mere tattered rags to be discarded.

During his recent interactions with the Ministry of Magic, Bryan had discerned with crystalline clarity that, apart from wielding the moral high ground, the Ministry – which apparently governed the entirety of wizardkind and employed hundreds of dedicated individuals – possessed a distressingly limited capacity to intervene in conflicts.

One need to only consider the stark reality: within the Ministry’s ranks, the sole armed force capable of responding to threats consisted of the measly dozen or so Aurors under the leadership of Rufus Scrimgeour in the prestigious yet small Auror Office. According to the ancient classifications that stratified the abilities of wizardkind, even these hyped Aurors were merely ordinary formal wizards, with only two or three among their ranks managing to attain the threshold of court wizards.

With such a feeble and grossly understaffed military power entrusted with maintaining peace in the wizarding world, Bryan could only conclude that the British wizarding community had thus far avoided descending into chaos so far solely because of Dumbledore– an old man who, by all accounts, had one foot in the grave.

However, the unpredictable winds of fortune would not always favor the wizards inhabiting this land; inevitably, they would encounter problems they did not wish to confront yet could not evade.

Not only did Dumbledore take a cautious stance on training the young wizards in combat spells and skills, but even Bryan, who had been promoting this within the Ministry and Hogwarts, felt hesitant.

Indeed, on its surface, instructing the youthful wizards in the ways of combat would undoubtedly enhance their abilities for self-protection. However, re-equipping them with the very methods of killing and waging war also carried the inescapable implication of propelling them inevitably towards those same grim ends.

These were mere children, underage wizards who should have been shielded from the harshness of the world, protected in the warm embrace of security and allowed to blossom into their full potential. Yet the sobering reality was that the wizarding world lacked the necessary might to ensure their protection in the face of intense conflicts, leaving them with the cruel choice to either strengthen themselves or remain appallingly vulnerable.

“Good evening, Professor Watson—”

Bryan drifted through the hushed corridors wandering past one curved window after another, his mind consumed by these weighty ponderings when suddenly, a youthful yet strangely ethereal and carefree voice greeted him.

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