Professor Snape was in a good mood. Mainly because he had been eavesdropping outside the classroom during Owen's lesson.
He had prepared the lesson content. He had provided the substitute teacher's outfit. Even the teaching style was about eighty percent similar to his own. So, whether it was actually him teaching the class didn't really matter.
"Expelliarmus!"
A red light hit the training dummy, and the wooden stick in its hand spun through the air toward Owen, who caught it with a stylish wave of his hand.
"This is a very common spell. Its primary goal is to knock the weapon out of your opponent's hand. But please remember: not every weapon is suitable for you to catch. Unless you are absolutely certain, never try to show off. For example, if I were holding a Venomous Tentacula, and you disarmed me and then reached out to catch it..."
Owen stared at the first-years with a slightly threatening look. "Then you deserve to die! Gentlemen, ladies, I want you to remember what I'm about to say. Burn it into your brains, engrave it in your hearts!"
"Combat is not about showing off. It is about life and death!"
Perhaps the weight of the words "life and death" was too heavy, because someone actually started crying. The little Savior wasn't happy about this. "Mr. Corlett, could you please not be so scary? We..."
"Mr. Potter!"
Owen's voice sharpened, instantly silencing the room. "First, I am not scaring you. You have forgotten what class this is! Defense Against the Dark Arts. Do you naively believe that a Dark Wizard will reason with you? Or show you sympathy?"
Outside the classroom, a certain Potions Master nodded in agreement.
"Black and white, justice and evil—these are naturally opposed forces. This opposition existed long before wizards did. In this conflict, there is no mercy, no reasoning. If you try to use naivety or logic against a Dark Wizard, they will only spit on your corpse and call you an idiot!"
"Furthermore, Mr. Potter, this is a classroom. The next time you wish to speak, I expect you to act like a student: raise your hand first and wait for permission. Five points from Gryffindor!"
Tsk!
That flavor is spot on!
A certain professor smiled with satisfaction, waved his hand, and walked away.
The class continued, but Owen didn't lecture much more. Using Transfiguration, he conjured a pile of dummies. "Now, everyone, pick up your wands and start practicing. Remember, this is the first life-saving spell you will learn. Life-saving. You know what that means, right? I hope you take this seriously, rather than regretting it when danger finds you in the future!"
"Expelliarmus!"
"Expelliarmus!"
The young wizards practiced diligently, but magic does require some talent; not everyone can get it right away. Owen was currently standing next to Neville.
"Excellent. Just like that. The incantation is correct, and the wand movement is precise. One point to Gryffindor for Mr. Longbottom!"
Neville had been nervous, but hearing he earned a point made him relax significantly. But Owen's voice rang out again. "Don't relax, Neville. Imagine there is an enemy in front of you. You can't beat him. If he attacks, you die. So you have only one option: knock his weapon away."
"Expelliarmus!"
A flash of red light appeared at the tip of his wand, hitting the dummy. The branch in the dummy's hand flew into the air.
"Perfect! One more point to Gryffindor!"
By the time two-thirds of the students had successfully cast the spell, class was nearly over. Owen called for a stop. "I won't assign homework. However, I have noted down everyone who failed to cast the spell today. Next class, everyone will demonstrate it again. Success earns no points. But if you still fail to cast it..."
Owen slammed his hand on the desk. "Then I will deduct points from those who succeeded, sorted by House! Don't think it's unfair. If you succeeded but weren't willing to help your classmates succeed, you deserve to lose points! Class dismissed!"
First-year Defense Against the Dark Arts was once a week. One week was more than enough time to practice a single spell.
However, teaching Gryffindor and Ravenclaw in the morning, and then Slytherin and Hufflepuff in the afternoon was a huge waste of time. Owen felt there was no need to complicate things for first-years; combining all four Houses into one class would be perfect.
He'd have to talk to Professor McGonagall about adjusting the schedule. Conveniently, she was about to teach fifth-year Transfiguration. He'd go to class first, then bring it up.
The weather was getting hotter, but the students' hearts were getting colder because final exams were approaching.
At this critical time, even the most mischievous students got nervous. Owen had already laid down the law: You don't have to work hard yourself, but you cannot interfere with others' efforts. Anyone who messes around, disturbs others' revision, or maliciously harms anyone will be severely punished!
Hogwarts rarely expelled students. Especially in the decades Dumbledore had been Headmaster, not a single student had been expelled. Over time, people began to think Hogwarts had lost the authority to expel anyone.
"Actually, we do have the right. But it requires the unanimous agreement of the Headmaster, Deputy Headmistress, and all four Heads of House. Of course, that procedure only applies if the student hasn't committed an act 'endangering school safety.' If that line is crossed, the Headmaster has the authority to expel the student directly."
As Owen spoke, he directed seven mops to clean the corridor. This mess wasn't caused by a student, but by Peeves. So Owen was currently consoling Filch. "However, Mr. Peeves isn't a student, so we can't expel him. I'm free recently, so I'll help you manage things. At least I can make sure Mr. Peeves stays calm for a while."
Filch smiled. "Thank you so much, Mr. Corlett. If only I..."
"By the way, I'm visiting Master Nicolas Flamel this summer. I plan to try creating an alchemical tool that would allow Squibs to use some magic. I'm not sure if I'll succeed, so Mr. Filch, I need your blessing."
Looking at the beaming young wizard, Filch's twisted heart felt healed. "Of course, Owen. Whether you succeed or not, you have my blessing. May you always be healthy and happy."
"Thank you very much."
The young wizard hugged the caretaker. Before leaving, he didn't forget Mrs. Norris. "And your blessing too, I accept it."
Watching the young wizard walk away, Filch picked up his cat. "I truly hope that one day, I can see Owen become the Headmaster of Hogwarts."
Meow!
"Yes, Mrs. Norris. That day will come!"
A while after Filch walked away with his cat, a tapestry on the wall was lifted aside. The Weasley twins led their younger brother and Harry out from behind it.
Fred patted Ron on the shoulder. "Ron, did you hear that? There's a reason Owen is welcomed by the whole school. Even facing Filch, a Squib, he maintains politeness."
George continued, "And he's a very gentle person. He knew we were hiding here, but he didn't expose us. Don't be surprised; think about it carefully. From start to finish, Filch had his back to us. That was Owen covering for us."
Ron: It's over. Even my brothers are biased now...
Harry: Should I buy him something else as a thank-you gift? He didn't accept the broomstick last time, so maybe something different? But what?
Just then, Fred suddenly slapped his forehead. "Right, remember one rule. Never, ever make noise while Owen is reading. The consequences are severe. Remember that!"