Chapter 196: Professor Riddle’s Class
The windows of the Defence Against the Dark Arts Classroom were open, and a breeze brought in the fresh air from the Forbidden Forest and the Black Lake.
Harry and Ron were both sitting in the middle towards the back, right in front of the window, as the breeze poured damp morning mist and coolness into their collar, chilling them to the bone, with goosebumps rising on their arms.
Hearing Professor Levent propose a new teaching method, the students erupted in excited cheers; this young professor’s classes were always something to look forward to. Harry shrank his neck, thinking it would be even better without that embarrassing random questioning punishment.
Sitting ramrod straight in the front row was Hermione, with an open notebook on her desk filled to the brim, not missing a single knowledge point, even if it wouldn’t be useful for the exam.
She eyed that special cup suspiciously, certain it was the same one she had seen in the office, looking very much like Hufflepuff’s Goblet.
“Quiet, stay quiet.”
Melvin raised his hand to quiet the commotion in the classroom, placed the Golden Goblet on the lectern, and added a few drops of Developing Potion to it: “Let me introduce our assistant teacher, the masterful Master of Magic, Mr. Gaunt.”
Accompanied by a wisp of ethereal silver mist, the apparition of a black-haired wizard appeared in midair.
The little wizards curiously examined the apparition, while Harry was dazed for a few seconds, his forehead feeling slightly warm, but he attributed it to the cold wind blowing too long and didn’t pay much attention, planning to go to the Hospital Wing after dinner to ask Madam Pomfrey for a bottle of Pepperup Potion.
The figure of the young wizard gradually solidified, his handsome face bearing a sickly pallor, light-colored eyes laced with red veins, giving him a somewhat eerie appearance, with an indescribable gloom lingering around him.
Adjusting to the classroom environment, Riddle looked up and scanned the surroundings, slightly dazed but quickly snapping back, disguise being almost second nature to him:
“Good morning, children. You can call me… Professor Gaunt.”
“Professor Gaunt, are you dead?” a student asked.
It wasn’t surprising that Dean would think that; this ghostly illusory figure immediately reminded one of Professor Binns, and he was clearly not a living wizard but summoned by Professor Levent from a magical vessel.
Riddle’s face darkened, but since he was just an apparition, no change was visible: “Perhaps it’s hard for you now to understand. My existence is very unique. I have memory and can think, but I’m not a ghost.”
“So are you dead or not?” Seamus muttered.
“Ahem…” Melvin cleared his throat, worried that if these little wizards kept asking, it might provoke Voldemort. “Don’t waste time on matters unrelated to the class. Let’s start the lesson.”
Logically, twenty-year-old Riddle was at the peak of his ability to disguise, fooling Hogwarts professors, handling Borgin-Burkes customers, even tricking Hepzibah Smith out of her life savings, but this was just a soul fragment.
Horcrux creation inherently makes a wizard more extreme, plus prolonged confinement, sudden awakening to too much bad news, and Voldemort’s particular obsession with life and death—any more questions, and this assistant teacher might lose his temper.
The little wizards’ muttering gradually faded.
Harry and Hermione were still murmuring about Gaunt’s surname; they were sensitive to it. After the Chamber of Secrets incident, The Daily Prophet had done many special reports, making many people remember this unique surname: the direct descendants of Slytherin, inheritors of Parseltongue.
Hearing this surname again, both felt a strange sensation, but couldn’t pinpoint it.
“Defence Against the Dark Arts…”
Riddle opened his mouth, scanning the entire classroom with a complex gaze: “You are… second years, right? Where did the last class leave off?”
Parvati raised her hand and answered: “Professor, the last class was on Pygmy Puffs.”
Pygmy Puffs are magical creatures with little danger, XXX-class, without special magic power, but they grow quickly, become very large when fully developed, are agile in movement, and can cause significant damage to wizard courtyards and farms. Conventional Magic is hard to use effectively; only pure white dogs can completely repel them.
Riddle fell silent involuntarily; he had skipped things like Pygmy Puffs even when self-studying from books in first year, and afterward dealt only with Dark Magic from the Restricted Section.
It was like a university professor returning to kindergarten, suddenly asked to teach without prior preparation, not knowing where to start.
Could Dumbledore be right, that he really wasn’t suited to be a Defence Against the Dark Arts professor?
Seeing this assistant teacher a bit stunned, Parvati timely reminded: “This class is supposed to be on Hogwarts.”
“Hogwarts, oh, Hogwarts…”
Riddle perked up; this was also an XXX-class magical creature, but compared to useless Pygmy Puffs, Hogwarts had some notoriety, with magic similar to Dark Magic, and he had related information in his memory.
“Hogwarts is a Dark magical creature from Russia, one foot tall, with hair only on its abdomen and limbs. When it crouches down, it looks very much like a gray stone…”
Hogwarts is very interested in people, likes to follow lone wanderers and stay in their shadows. If the wanderer senses something wrong and turns around, they only see an unremarkable stone, but if Hogwarts stays in a person’s shadow for a long time, that person becomes lethargic, despises everything in the world, finds all things meaningless, eventually kneels on the ground, and lets the creature devour them.
Speaking of this eerie Dark magical creature, Riddle was back in his professional field, explaining from basics to advanced, citing examples… captivating the little wizards with equal parts fear and curiosity, not wanting to miss a word even as they shivered.
Melvin was very impressed; if it were him teaching, he couldn’t have come up with so many examples, all involving life-threatening Dark magical creatures.
“Professor, is there any way to deal with Hogwarts?” Hannah from Helga Hufflepuff asked, trembling.
“Any simple spell will do—Repelling Charm, Stupefy, even kicking it with your foot can drive it away. The key is discovering its presence.”
Riddle glanced at her, his pupils contracting slightly, then shifted tone: “School isn’t about completing tasks; it’s about growth, children. Following the textbook and materials can get you through exams, but thinking beyond them brings true knowledge.”
“The focus of this chapter isn’t methods to deal with Hogwarts, but the insights from its method of attack.”
“Do you know? There’s a Dark spell that can similarly make someone lose the will to live, willingly baring their neck under the slaughtering blade…”
“Ahem…” Melvin cleared his throat. “That’s about it for this lesson’s content. You have ten minutes for free discussion; feel free to ask questions.”
“…”
Riddle frowned at him, suddenly finding it all very boring.
This guy was such a buzzkill—Defence Against the Dark Arts, if not teaching Dark Magic, then what?
Before he could complain, Melvin said flatly: “Middle of the fourth row, the boy with the scar on his forehead—he’s the Savior who survived that great disaster.”
Riddle whipped around instantly, staring fixedly at Harry.
