In the time that followed, the Spell Study Group gradually became a new trend at Hogwarts.
Wade heard, more than once, someone humbly say, "My Shield Charm isn't very good yet; it's just barely formed and can't block many powerful spells at all."
No sooner had they spoken than the student cast a spell, conjuring a transparent barrier. Other students would curiously cast a small Dark Curse, watching the spell's light spread across or bounce off the barrier, exclaiming in surprise and admiration.
Others at the dinner table would tell those next to them, "I just asked my dad, and of course he knows the Shield Charm, but no one else in his office does! The Ministry of Magic's staff quality these past few years is truly worrying. Twenty years ago, I doubt they would have survived for long."
They spoke with such concern for the nation that it was as if they would soon run for Minister of Magic, dedicated to changing the current situation.
Some also complained to Harry and his friends, "So you SSC members have always eaten this well? You've been hiding it from us all this time. No wonder even Neville can cast the Cheering Charm."
Neville, hearing his name, looked up blankly and said, "I haven't been hiding any food... Uh, do you want some roasted potatoes?"
He offered one of the roasted potatoes from his own plate to the other student.
Although Neville's academic performance wasn't top-tier in all aspects, he consistently stayed in the middle. Since Snape stopped bothering him so frequently, Neville's Potions Class grades even improved slightly.
Because of this, he was now much more open and confident. Even knowing that many people were actually mocking him, he didn't shrink back and lower his head.
"By the way, have you noticed?" Harry asked the others while doing homework in the Umbrella Room. "I think Snape is a bit afraid of Professor Moody."
"It's Professor Snape, Harry," Hermione said without looking up.
"Snape always avoids Moody's eyes, right?" Padma said, using her Wand to direct her Quill to dance on the table. "I think it's perfectly normal. I wouldn't dare look Professor Moody in the face either."
"It's different," Harry said.
But he couldn't explain how it was different. However, even if he thought about it with his fingernail, Harry believed that Snape's reason for fearing Moody couldn't be the same as Padma's.
The others weren't interested in the relationship between the two professors; both of them were intimidating in their own ways. But comparatively, they preferred to talk about the recent Defense Against the Dark Arts class.
Moody never taught by the book. He always set various challenges in every class, and dueling in pairs was the most ordinary and normal of them.
Sometimes he would set up various magical traps, some of which even had faint traces of Dark Magic, for students to disarm. Those who failed to disarm them and triggered the traps would suffer some consequences.
Sometimes he would release dangerous magical creatures into the classroom without telling the students they were there, until the creatures suddenly attacked. Once, Lisa's arm was even broken. Another time, Zabini's nose was nearly cut off.
Of course, none of these injuries involved Dark Magic, and Madam Pomfrey would restore them to normal with just a few flicks of her Wand.
Moody never paid any attention to students' complaints or tears. If anyone cried loudly in his class, they would be scolded as if their very birth was a mistake.
As for the Howlers sent to him by parents, to Moody they were more like fun candies every morning; he would dispose of them in various ways before even opening them.
Students noticed that Moody would almost never directly open anyone's letters—even those sent by acquaintances. He would place the letter far away and then open it with magic.
Because of this caution, he avoided two attacks involving Bubotuber pus and a Dark Curse with an unclear effect.
"Constant vigilance, children!" Moody would roar loudly every time he dealt with an attack. "In this world, just staying alive is a tough challenge! Accidents always happen suddenly when you think they won't!"
Students: "..."
They silently grumbled to themselves: None of us are as hated as you are!
However, after that, everyone was much more cautious when opening packages or letters.
In any case, no matter how much parents and students protested and objected, Moody was not removed from his position as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.
Hagrid had once been so desperate after Malfoy was injured that it seemed he could jump from the Headmaster's tower.
But for Moody—a minor injury that could be healed? What kind of problem was that! For the whole family to scream and shout at him because of it was simply making a fuss over nothing!
He firmly stuck to his teaching methods, unwavering, and even wrote to old friends, borrowing many Dark Magic artifacts confiscated by Aurors to teach students how to distinguish between them.
Michael said, conflicted, "Professor Moody's Defense Against the Dark Arts classes are scary, but they're useful, and sometimes even fun... but definitely still a bit scary."
Theo sighed and added, "They also come with various injuries and pain from time to time, and sometimes even life-threatening danger."
He nervously touched his neck, still feeling the lingering fear.
"Theo was almost strangled by a scarf today," Ryan told everyone. "In the Hospital Wing, we heard Madam Pomfrey have a huge argument with Professor Moody. I've never seen her so angry."
"Why hasn't the Ministry of Magic given Moody trouble?" Harry asked, confused. "Several times I've worried he'd end up in Azkaban like this."
"You've seen the scars on him," Wade said. "It's said that half the cells in Azkaban were filled by him. He was an Auror for many years and achieved great feats. Even though he's retired now, he's still the best Auror."
"So it's our good fortune that he can pass on his lifelong experience to us?" Michael said with a bitter expression.
Wade nodded. "Precisely."
Harry looked hesitant. Being an Auror had always been one of his ideals, on par with being a professional Quidditch player. But looking at Moody, Harry felt he needed to think about it more.
"Ah, I'm done!" Hermione suddenly dropped her pen, pulled out her Wand, and tapped it on a piece of parchment, duplicating what she had just written several times before standing up to hand a copy to everyone.
Harry held the parchment and asked, confused, "Vomit Initiative? What does this mean?"
"Not 'vomit,' it's S.P.E.W., the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare, the organization I'm planning to start."
Hermione looked at Padma with a rather intimidating gaze, then at the others, and said, "You'll join, right?"
Everyone was silent for a moment. Even Michael didn't enthusiastically respond to Hermione's call this time.
"It's a good idea," Wade said. "But I have a few questions."
"Okay, go ahead," Hermione said, lifting her head proudly.
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