Chapter 521: Hurry Up, Run for It

Sirius was wildly popular at Hogwarts. When he entered the Great Hall, all eyes turned toward him, and the lively chatter quieted for a moment, only to be replaced by even more animated discussions.

Harry, in particular, looked thrilled. Normally, he wouldn't get out of bed until after 8:30 a.m., but today he had broken his habit and arrived half an hour early. When he saw Sirius, he waved excitedly.

But while many welcomed the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, not everyone shared the enthusiasm.

A group of Slytherins snickered as they passed.

"Are you happy, Potter?" Malfoy sneered. "You'd better start praying he lasts until next year... None of the previous Defence Against the Dark Arts professors had a happy ending."

"Don't worry, Malfoy, he'll be fine," Harry shot back. "If your father can avoid trouble, I'm sure Sirius can handle the so-called curse."

"Oh, speaking of which," Harry added, "I heard your family had to sell off your shop in Diagon Alley. Must've cost quite a bit to clear your father's name."

Malfoy's pale face turned pink, and his hand instinctively reached for his wand.

"How dare you talk about my father, Potter!"

"You started it by talking about Sirius," Harry said, pulling out his own wand and mimicking Malfoy's tone.

"What's going on here?" Sirius's voice cut through the tension as he approached.

"Professor..." Harry began quickly, "it's Malfoy. He was bad-mouthing you."

"Oh?" Sirius's gaze shifted to Malfoy. "Didn't Snape ever teach you not to speak ill of your professors behind their backs?"

"I didn't," Malfoy protested, his neck stiffening. "It was Potter who insulted my father—"

"Disrespecting a professor?" Sirius interrupted, raising an eyebrow. "Five points from Slytherin."

Malfoy's jaw dropped in outrage.

"Now," Sirius continued, "if you don't want to end up in the dungeons, go back to where you belong."

"You can't—" Malfoy stammered, fuming. "I'll tell Professor Snape that you—"

"You'd better go now," Sirius said, smirking. "Run along, Malfoy. Don't make me wait."

Malfoy stormed off, his anger palpable.

The Gryffindor table erupted into cheers the moment he left. Several students even stood on their benches, clapping and dancing in celebration.

For years, Gryffindors had borne the brunt of any clashes with Slytherin, with Snape always ensuring they came out worse. But now, the tables had turned. Sirius had done to the Slytherins exactly what Snape often did to them, and Gryffindor students couldn't be happier about it.

Though Sirius had already exited the hall, the conversation about what had just happened carried on energetically.

"Don't talk to me," Ron whispered to Harry and Hermione, his face glowing with satisfaction. "I'm going to remember this forever. Finally, Hogwarts has a professor who's on our side."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, grinning. He'd been Snape's favorite target for as long as he could remember. In any conflict with Slytherin, Snape always found a way to punish him, regardless of the circumstances. But not anymore.

As Sirius's figure disappeared from view, Harry's chest swelled with a mix of admiration and relief.

Hermione, however, remained silent. While everyone around her cheered and celebrated, she stared blankly at the plate of nachos in front of her, seemingly lost in thought. When Harry and Ron tried to include her in the conversation, she didn't respond.

After this incident, excitement for Sirius's first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson grew rapidly among the students.

"We don't have Defence Against the Dark Arts until Wednesday," Ron grumbled, checking his timetable. His shoulders sagged. "Why couldn't he have started a week earlier?"

Similar sentiments echoed across the Great Hall.

However, none of this affected the fifth years. When their lesson began, Professor Moody entered the classroom as usual, his wooden leg clunking against the floor. It was as if Sirius Black's arrival had changed nothing in his world.

"Disarming Charm," Professor Moody began, his gravelly voice cutting through the classroom. "Does anyone know this charm?"

Cho raised her hand. "It makes the opponent lose their wand."

"Exactly," said Professor Moody with a curt nod. "I'd say this charm is no less effective than the Killing Curse. When a wizard loses their wand, they also lose their ability to resist—provided, of course, that the two are evenly matched."

"To tell you the truth, I could easily deal with most of you without my wand..." His magical eye swiveled, lingering on Kyle for a moment before continuing, "The Disarming Charm, Stunning Spell, and Incarcerous Spell are the three most commonly used charms by Aurors and Hit Wizards."

"And I'll let you in on a little secret: the Disarming Charm will definitely appear on your O.W.L. exams."

The mention of exams had an immediate effect. Everyone straightened in their seats, their attention snapping into focus. The fifth years were already teetering on the brink of madness from their workload, dreaming of various scores every night. Even Professor Trelawney's prophecies had become an ominous topic of discussion, often involving students' imagined failures.

Trelawney, thrilled by the reactions, had taken to predicting disastrous marks with greater frequency, unsettling her students more effectively than ever before.

So, the idea of a guaranteed exam topic had everyone on high alert.

"Speaking of the Disarming Charm..." Professor Moody said, his magical eye glinting. "You were introduced to it in your third year. Let's see what you've learned."

He withdrew his wand and gestured to the student in the front row. "You—try it on me."

A Ravenclaw boy stood up with an air of confidence. "Haha, I remember the incantation!" He jabbed his wand forward dramatically. "Expelliarmus!"

Pop!

A weak burst of sparks sputtered from his wand before fizzling out. Professor Moody's wand stayed firmly in his grasp.

"This is a wand, Mr. Thomas," Professor Moody said, his tone calm but laced with mockery. "Not a one-handed sword. You weren't planning on poking me with it, were you?"

The class erupted into laughter as the boy's face turned crimson, and he slumped back into his seat.

"Next," Moody said without missing a beat.

The second student, also a Ravenclaw, fared marginally better but missed his target entirely, blasting a hole in the window behind Moody.

The laughter returned, louder this time.

But the mood shifted when Moody abandoned the front-row system and began calling on students at random. Those who had laughed the hardest quickly found themselves put on the spot, their own failures turning them into the new source of ridicule.

"I see I was wrong about you lot," Moody growled after testing roughly a third of the class. He stowed his wand with an exasperated sigh. "How is it that you've all forgotten something so basic?"

The students exchanged awkward glances, unsure how to respond. None of them wanted to admit that their third-year lessons had been more about gawking at Lockhart's antics than actually learning the charm. And after the short-lived Duelling Club, no one had mentioned the Disarming Charm again.

"Well, I suppose that explains it," Moody muttered, as if reading their minds. "Alright. Everyone put down your wands, open your books to page 165, and start copying everything written about the Disarming Charm. Let me remind you again—this charm is critical, and it will be on your O.W.L. exam."

The room was soon filled with the sound of quills scratching against parchment as the students dutifully took notes. Moody stood at the front of the classroom, his magical eye roving across their desks, ensuring no one slacked off.

He muttered to himself as he surveyed the class. "That fraud Lockhart... The only worthwhile thing he did at Hogwarts was introducing them to this charm early. Probably the only useful thing he ever did."