Under a multitude of dull, stunned gazes, the "Whirlpool Man" slowly straightened up.
He gently patted a Hufflepuff first-year who looked calm, but had actually passed out on his feet a while ago.
The Whirlpool Man was dressed in a pristine black suit, as if he were draped in the night itself.
He wore a top hat, his slender fingers encased in fitted white gloves. His trousers were perfectly pressed, and his leather shoes shone with a polished gleam.
He looked proper, gentlemanly.
In fact, he appeared more elegant and dignified than any professor or Ministry official present.
However, this only made him evoke an instinctive fear and sense of wrongness that grew more intense by the second.
It was like a monster trying its very best to imitate a human.
Except for the most critical part—the face.
There was a major problem there.
It looked like a lump of meat-colored playdough that had been kneaded badly, twitching slightly with his movements.
Harry, like everyone else, widened his eyes.
Then he frowned, eyeing this suspected "skin-walker" of a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor with suspicion.
For some reason, this combination of elegance and grotesqueness, this earth-shattering entrance, gave Harry a strong sense of déjà vu.
Tap, tap, tap.
The gold-tipped cane struck the marble floor.
In the Great Hall, which was as silent as a graveyard, the crisp, rhythmic sound echoed clearly.
Swish.
He leaped lightly onto the podium.
With a magnificent turn, he quite naturally blocked Headmaster Dumbledore from view.
A vein popped out on the latter's forehead.
...Forget it, I have no choice but to forgive him.
The old Headmaster sighed internally, happy to let go. He handed the podium over to this absolute rascal and stood leisurely to the side with his hands behind his back.
"Good evening, everyone."
A voice as mellow as vintage red wine resonated through the Great Hall.
The "Whirlpool Man" bowed, placing his hand over his left breast in a standard gentleman's salute.
He raised his head.
Using that terrifying visage, he looked out at the sea of green, bewildered faces in the Hall.
With pleasure, he said:
"I am your new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Mr. Unknown.
"I am delighted to accompany you all in this new school year, and to impart upon you supreme knowledge."
"..."
Inside the Great Hall, only Luna from Ravenclaw clapped her hands alone, clap-clap, a rosy smile on her face.
99.9% of the students looked like they would rather turn around and walk toward "Magical Hagrid" to keep company with Blast-Ended Skrewts every day than attend this Professor Unknown's class.
But this silence certainly didn't affect Ethan.
Wearing his human-skin mask, he suddenly slammed his arms onto the brass owl podium with a bang.
The noise made the students jump in fright.
"Look at you! I see delicious silhouettes, like little apples hanging from a branch, growing strong and healthy."
"However, the sunlight will soon vanish, and the storm is coming! The vast majority of you are not yet ready to face this perilous darkness!"
Ethan spoke with heavy, impassioned emotion.
He clenched his fists.
It was as if lightning and thunder were about to erupt inside the Great Hall the very next second!
"From what I can see, the biggest problem is that you are all too reliant on your wands."
"Although a wand will indeed accompany a young wizard for a lifetime, it is merely a tool to assist our casting; it should not be a necessity!"
"Without a wand, you can't even cast a Lumos! This is simply terrifying!!"
As he spoke, under the watchful eyes of the crowd, Ethan waved his hand.
Several orbs of incandescent light, bright as stars, emerged from the air beside him!
They hovered above, overpowering the orange glow of the candles and illuminating the area around the podium as if it were day.
This trick finally caused the students to shift their attention slightly away from his face.
Startled whispers of "Wow" rippled through the hall.
Ethan spoke freely and calmly:
"This is just the basics."
"In order for you to retreat unscathed when facing danger in the future, this semester, I will ensure that at least students in the fifth year and above achieve basic wandless spellcasting."
The students looked at each other in dismay.
Wandless spellcasting?
Isn't that magic that even adult wizards find difficult to master?
How could they possibly learn it...
One student muttered, "I thought those textbooks were bought just for reference, but this professor is actually serious?"
At this moment, a hand rose tremblingly from the Gryffindor table.
—It was Miss Hermione Granger.
As if she were already in class, although Hermione was somewhat nervous, she firmly raised her hand toward the ceiling.
"This student."
Ethan nodded at her, smiling gently.
Although, as presented on the mask, the whirlpool simply writhed inward even more bizarrely.
Hermione stood up, trembling.
She took a deep breath and asked as steadily as she could:
"Professor, may I ask if the subject of wandless casting will affect this term's O.W.L.s (Ordinary Wizarding Level examinations)?"
She had already completed the O.W.L. exam papers from the last five years during the summer holidays.
Not in a single year had the Defense Against the Dark Arts exam questions involved "wandless spellcasting."
And according to experience, in the fifth year, every class would revolve around studying for the graded exams.
After all, the exam results were crucially important regarding whether one could continue to study a certain subject and whether one could participate in the future N.E.W.T.s (Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests).
Hermione bit her lower lip, worried sick.
If she didn't learn wandless casting, and consequently didn't study the exam content well, leading to a disastrous score...
What would she do then...
For a top academic like Hermione, losing the exam meant losing all hope in life.
"Hehehe~ Do not worry."
Ethan naturally knew what this "little scholar" was worried about.
He said confidently:
"As long as you learn wandless spellcasting, your Defense Against the Dark Arts exam grade will be an 'O' (Outstanding)."
Hermione: "B-But what if I don't learn it..."
"Hehehehe~"
Ethan's voice grew even gentler.
As if coated in honey, he spoke slowly, enunciating every word:
"Rest assured, under my instruction, there is not a single student who will fail to learn wandless spellcasting~"
His voice was tender as water, yet it gave the listeners goosebumps!
"D-Does he mean he's going to get rid of anyone who doesn't learn it?!"
Ron stared in horror, his face looking like he was at a funeral, and whispered:
"Bloody hell, can I skip this class?"
Unfortunately, Defense Against the Dark Arts was a core subject.
There was no choice.
Ron still remembered that during the summer vacation, he had vowed solemnly—
This obscure new professor is definitely just some fraud who popped out of nowhere.
Now, it seemed...
He was basically a demon who had escaped from subspace!!
Ethan's words made even Headmaster Dumbledore look sideways.
He wondered what kind of "secret method" Ethan possessed to guarantee teaching the students such high-difficulty wandless magic.
Hehe~ It shouldn't be blowing up the school, right?
...Right?
Dumbledore: No smiling.
His relaxed smile froze. Memories of the past flashed through his mind like lightning.
Thinking of this highly probable possibility, he fell silent.
His originally imposing figure suddenly seemed incredibly bleak.
On the podium.
"Do you have any other questions, Miss?"
Ethan looked gently and patiently at Hermione, who was frozen in place.
She shuddered.
Snapping back to reality, she blushed and said, "No, none," before hurriedly sitting back down.
Strange... clearly he's a weirdo.
Why do I feel a sense of familiarity?
Hermione fanned her face with her hand, wondering doubtfully in her heart.
"So then," Ethan said finally.
"To bring everyone a unique classroom experience, tomorrow afternoon, all fifth-year students will gather in the Great Hall. We will have an open class."
"I guarantee, it will be absolutely interesting~"
As he spoke, Ethan cocked his head pleasantly...
The mask squirmed.
Like a black hole, it emitted a sound like "Haugh, haugh"—a distorted laugh.
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