Professor Abigail was taken aback and asked, "What contract?"
"I know!"
Hermione quickly raised her hand and said, "In 1876, the Hogwarts caretaker, Mr. Lankoros Calpe, tried to use various modern weapons to drive Peeves out of the castle. As a result, Peeves caused chaos at the school for three whole days. He even fired a gun at the windows, almost injuring the school's teachers and students."
"That's right, that's right!"
Floating in mid-air, Peeves nodded repeatedly and said proudly, "In the end, that Calpe guy was kicked out of the school, but I'm still here!"
"At that time, Ms. Moore, the headmistress, made a contract with Peeves."
Hermione, as if providing a setup for Peeves, continued, "Peeves was allowed certain privileges to cause trouble in the school in exchange for him laying down his weapons and returning the school to normal order."
"That's exactly it!" Peeves chimed in, "Understand? These guys are useless against me! But if you want another battle with me, I'm all for it."
He sat on the barrel of a cannon, provocatively looking at the new professor, as if eagerly anticipating another epic battle.
"I see."
Professor Abigail looked at Peeves with a mix of curiosity and amazement.
Up until today, Peeves had been relatively respectful to the professors, appearing only slightly more lively than other ghosts, so much so that Abigail hadn't realized his capacity for destruction.
But from his tone and the look on the students' faces, Abigail could guess what kind of troublemaker he was.
She couldn't understand why such a powerful wizard as Dumbledore would allow such a chaotic ghost to remain in the school. But since the headmaster hadn't intervened, Abigail naturally wouldn't meddle.
"You've misunderstood, Peeves." She explained calmly, "I'm using them to teach my students a weapons class."
After saying that, she no longer paid attention to the uninvited guest and instead turned to the students in front of her.
"Since you're here, please inform your respective houses. Tomorrow at four in the afternoon, we'll have a Muggle weapons class on the southern lawn."
A hand was raised from the crowd.
"Lisa?" Professor Abigail called her name.
"Professor." Lisa said with some trepidation, "But... isn't this typically part of the third-year Muggle Studies curriculum? We haven't even reached the third year yet..."
"You're mistaken." Professor Abigail said bluntly, "Do you think that just defending against dark wizards and dangerous creatures is enough to ensure your safety?"
"Nothing could be further from the truth!"
"I'm telling you, throughout history, many wizards have been captured or even killed by Muggles they looked down upon!"
"Of course, wizards have recklessly killed even more Muggles. Like the Voldemort in your United Kingdom decades ago..."
Most students instantly turned pale, as if they wished they could block their own ears.
"The Mysterious Man... Professor, we generally don't say that name directly..." Anthony mustered the courage to say.
"Fool!" Professor Abigail scolded mercilessly, "Didn't Dumbledore teach you? Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself! And Voldemort is already dead, yet you still don't dare to say his name?"
The young wizards looked at each other, most of them lowering their heads.
They didn't want to admit they were cowardly, yet they wouldn't, as the professor suggested, dare to speak that person's name aloud.
Even though Voldemort had disappeared since these young wizards could remember, his influence lingered, still synonymous with "terror" for many.
Professor Abigail seemed somewhat disappointed, but then noticed that some students still held their heads high, showing no fear and meeting her gaze directly.
For instance, Vid and Harry.
There were others who were clearly afraid, but their expressions showed a mix of hesitation and courage.
Professor Abigail smiled, not forcing the students to go against their own will, and said:
"Some Muggle weapons require part of the school's protection system to be deactivated by the headmaster in order for them to function properly. Leaving them off for too long or doing it too frequently can pose a security threat to the school. Therefore, the four houses in the same year will have class together."
"Second-year classes will be on Friday at 5 PM. Meet on the lawn by the Forbidden Forest, and make sure to arrive early."
...
Friday came quickly.
That afternoon, Vid and their classmates had no classes, so after lunch, they went to the Umbrella House to finish their weekend assignments. When the time was right, they headed to the lawn.
Their year was the first to have the weapons class, and some students from other years had come out of curiosity, arriving even earlier than the class members themselves, forming a circle around the lawn.
Since everyone knew each other, they stood in small groups, casting curious glances at the weapons, old or new, scattered across the lawn.
The weapons were protected by spells, preventing students from getting too close, leaving them to discuss their methods and power from a distance.
"I know, that's a landmine!"
A Gryffindor boy said confidently, "My dad once accidentally stepped on one while traveling, and the Muggles with him thought he'd be blown up, they screamed as they ran away. My dad used an Iron Armor Spell to negate the explosion's power, and when he returned, he found those Muggles already preparing his funeral!"
Everyone burst into loud laughter.
The laughter was filled with contempt for the foolish Muggles and a sense of superiority for being wizards.
Suddenly, a student felt a tap on their shoulder.
"Excuse me!"
"Hey, go find somewhere else!"
The student impatiently shrugged, trying to shake off the hand.
But he didn't succeed; the pressure on his shoulder intensified several times.
"I said... excuse me!"
The newcomer repeated coldly, emphasizing each word.
The voice sounded a bit familiar.
The tone was decidedly unfriendly.
The student turned to see Professor Abigail's somber face, and for a moment, he mistook her for Professor Snape.
"Pro-Professor!"
He exclaimed, causing many students to scramble and clear the path.
Professor Abigail walked in like Moses parting the sea, followed by a string of second-year students.
—They had arrived on time, only to be blocked outside.
The group reached the middle, their curious eyes occasionally glancing at the finely designed, mighty modern weapons. However, once inside, Professor Abigail first picked up a crude stone axe.
"Does anyone know what this is?" she asked.
"Pfft!"
Amidst the students, someone let out a chuckle, seemingly thinking the professor had asked a silly question.