How does a new week begin? For everyone differently, of course, but for the school in general—with breakfast. It is at breakfast on Monday that various nuances and subtleties of the upcoming day, and even the whole week, become clear. For example, the empty seat of the DADA teacher—a clear indicator that Dumbledore hasn't found anyone yet. Or here, Professor Grubbly-Plank is sitting in the seats for guests of the castle, and the chair in the seat for the Care professor... Well, it's very large. Although empty. This means only that Hagrid has returned, wherever he has been wandering all this time. However, everyone who is even slightly interested in the personalities of the wizards around knows perfectly well that this albeit not the smartest shaggy big guy, but kind and a little crazy, however, like everyone around... In general, he honors and respects etiquette, albeit to the best of his understanding, and missing breakfast, as well as any other meal—is completely impermissible for him. Which means, although he returned, he immediately received some task from the Headmaster regarding the school, or is not in a condition to come here.
There are other nuances that can shed light on various subtleties of life at Hogwarts. For example, the unusual expression on the faces of Professors Snape and Flitwick. If slight bewilderment and joy could be read on the face of the tiny professor, then Snape looked much more dissatisfied, puzzled, and crumbs of contentment were almost impossible to read in his gaze. Although... It is generally difficult to read anything on his face if Snape himself does not want it.
"Don't you think," Justin, as always, is in a hurry to start a conversation at breakfast. Perhaps he is the initiator of absolutely all conversations, one way or another dragging me into this matter...
"What exactly?"
"Well..." Justin imperceptibly to many pointed with a fork with a sausage pierced on it towards the teachers' table, "that something is wrong there?"
"There is indeed something."
"Hmm... I can't understand what is wrong. And over there," now Justin pointed with the fork to the Gryffindor table. "Something happened too."
Hannah looked disapprovingly at Justin.
"Gesticulating like that with a piece of cutlery, and even with food on it—is impolite, ugly and generally..."
"I know that perfectly well," Justin nodded, but stopped waving the fork, albeit within his personal space. "Just want to at least sometimes stop controlling every gesture. But we are not about that. What do you think?"
Justin looked at me again.
"Well, I think that Hagrid has returned, and we don't have a new DADA teacher."
"Sad..."
"What exactly, Ernie?" Hannah asked with a smirk.
"The second. Hagrid—is cool," Ernie gave an answering smirk. "If you keep a respectful, safe distance. And if you are unlucky enough to become a volunteer—follow his instructions."
"That's true," I could not help but confirm Macmillan's words. "Hagrid—is an experienced guy, knows from his own experience how to handle these or those animals. I wonder..."
Looking at my empty plate, set the cutlery aside—the assortment of dishes on Monday is not large, as well as their volume, and can't really let loose in such an environment, so my breakfast is over.
"...If he comes across a Nundu—will he cope with it?"
For some this caused a smile, and someone seriously thought about it, theorizing on this matter.
"Only if he survives the process of figuring out an approach," Justin nodded importantly, and started on the leftovers of food—delay with breakfast, and house-elves will remove the uneaten.
When the late students came into the Hall, and those who had already eaten didn't have time to leave it, Dumbledore got up from his seat and, tapping his wand on the goblet, spreading a crystal chime through the hall, attracted attention to himself. The hall quieted down in anticipation.
"Students," the Headmaster's voice spread through the hall. "Before you go to classes, I want to make a small announcement. Due to the unexpected departure of Professor Umbridge to places not as distant as we would like, there is no one to fill the position of Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts at the moment."
The students were not particularly pleased, but the murmur did not even grow into a hum, as usually happens.
"However, I hasten to assure you that you will not be left without a teacher. Respected Professors Flitwick and Snape kindly agreed to take on some of the duties of the DADA professor. Professor Flitwick will conduct this subject for years one to four inclusive."
Many students, taking advantage of the pause, began to applaud happily, because everyone loved Flitwick and logically considered that DADA under his mentorship would be a really interesting subject.
"For the fifth, sixth and seventh years, as you guessed," Dumbledore smiled sparingly into his beard, looking around those present, "Defense Against the Dark Arts will be conducted by Professor Snape."
The ovations were perhaps only from the Slytherins and some individual students from other houses, although the "non-Slytherins" congratulated Snape noticeably more modestly. Dumbledore patiently waited for the ovations to die down.
"Also I hasten to inform you that Professor Hagrid has returned to Hogwarts, and already next week he will return to his duties as Professor of Care of Magical Creatures."
Gryffindors literally burst into joy, although they did not find Hagrid with their gaze.
"That is all from me. Go, study, gain knowledge!"
The habit of immediately heading somewhere from the Great Hall after the conclusion of Dumbledore's speeches played on the subconscious of many students, and they without delay, albeit under loud conversations, headed to classes or to the common rooms for things. We, of course, were no exception.
"Holy shit," Justin expressed almost the universal mood of everyone walking nearby. Well, of course, of the classmates.
"Watch your language," Hannah threw gloomily. "Although overall I agree."
"Are you so frightened by the candidacy of Professor Snape?" I looked at them with a smirk.
"Experience has shown," Susan began to speak, "that this is too harsh an option. Would be okay if someone else was put to teach Potions... But Snape on as many as two subjects—this is the end."
"We'll survive," despite his own statement, Zacharias did not look as confident as he wanted to seem. "But that's not certain. In any case, DADA with Snape will be much more useful than with Umbridge. I still have lines from various laws flashing before my eyes."
"That's yeees," Justin drawled. "Don't use this, don't use that, in such and such circumstances you can't defend yourself, in others—also. All that remains is to spread your arms to the sides and take spells on your chest in the hope of not dying. Well, and if you die—then you can use."
"Paradoxical," I smirked at such a twist.
"But according to the letter of the law. Well, and there maybe Aurors or DMLE will figure it out..."
"Hey!" Susan was indignant.
"No offense," Justin put up his hands in a defensive gesture. "DMLE—will definitely figure it out. True, you will already be neither hot nor cold."
So we walked to the first class on the Monday schedule—History of Magic.
Lessons went on as usual. History of Magic, Potions, Runes—but the latter far from for everyone. The students relaxed out of habit, because Potions with Snape was already behind them, and surviving until the end of the day now seemed not such a difficult task, although he threw a notable, voluminous topic for an essay to everyone. But when we approached the DADA classroom everyone suddenly remembered that... It will be Snape again.
Taking our seats, our year quite quietly awaited the appearance of the professor. Everyone laid out in front of them the textbooks issued by Umbridge, notebooks, parchments, writing utensils. Quietly talked among themselves.
I, as always, sat at the same desk with Daphne, and we, following the example of many, also quietly talked about all sorts of everyday trifles. Remembering one important point, I took my backpack off the chair and took out a copy of the diary from Snape—I had already read and memorized it, there is no particularly secret data there, just an unusual application of ordinary, sometimes even surprisingly simple spells as counter-curses. Of course, I had already found out from Snape in passing about the permissibility of distributing the material.
"Here, by the way," I handed her a copy of that combined notebook-diary. "Since I promised..."
"It's nothing," Daphne smiled, taking the notebook and immediately hiding it in her bag. "I understand everything. I myself have the same attitude towards information."
"I remember," I smiled, recalling one incident. "You copied books on Runes for a long time..."
The sound of a closing door was heard behind, and everyone immediately fell silent, turning around. With a quick step, like a black shadow, Professor Snape walked between the rows to the teacher's place.
"Given the unsystematic teaching of Defense Against the Dark Arts," without any introductions the professor began to speak in his usual insinuating and quiet voice, "I will be surprised if you have even a slight idea of what you will have to face at OWLs. I will be in even greater surprise if despite such a current level of knowledge you scrape together a passing grade."
Of course, some began to grumble quietly, especially Ron. Of course, along with Potter. And other guys from Gryffindor took every word of the professor as a personal insult. Over there, the Ravenclaws are great—they simply let unnecessary information pass their ears. Yes, some dissatisfaction, of course, is present, but still. And the snakes don't care at all—you can't get through to them with lectures.
"The Headmaster set a difficult task before me," Snape continued meanwhile, beginning to walk slowly in front of the rows of desks. "In the remaining time to prepare you for passing OWLs in Defense Against the Dark Arts. A difficult task. 'Professor' Umbridge..."
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