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"Oh, what can we do?" Ron yawned. "It's too late, isn't it? She got the job and is destined to stay here. Fudge will definitely guarantee this."

"Hmm..." Hermione said hesitantly, "That's right, I was thinking today..."

She glanced at Harry a little nervously, thinking about what Jon taught herself to say, and then continued, "I was thinking - maybe we should simply - do it ourselves."

"What do you do by yourself?" Harry asked suspiciously, his hands still soaked in the juice of "Motra Rat Tentacles".

"Well-we learn Defense Against the Dark Arts by ourselves."

Hermione said, her voice was a little unconfidently low, but this low only lasted for a moment before returning to a normal level.

"Stop the nonsense," Ron complained. "You want to increase our burden? Don't you know that Harry and I have left a bunch of homework, and it's just the second week now?"

"But this is much more important than homework!"

Harry and Ron looked at her with wide-eyed eyes.

"I think there is nothing more important than homework in the world!" Ron said.

"Don't be stupid, of course there are,"

Harry saw Hermione’s face suddenly glowing, just like her usual passion for spew, he couldn’t help but feel an ominous feeling, "I mean, it’s like Harry in Umbridge. As said in the first class, we must be prepared to deal with everything that is waiting for us outside.

I mean, we want to make sure we can really protect ourselves.

If we learn nothing for a whole year—"

"We can't do much ourselves,"

Ron said in a frustrated tone, "I mean, yes, we can go to the library and find some curses in the books to practice on our own, I think--"

"No, I think we have passed the stage of learning only from books." Hermione said, "We need a teacher, a suitable teacher, who can teach us how to use the spell. If we don't do it right, You can also correct us."

"If you are talking about Lupin..."

Harry was interrupted before he finished speaking.

"No, no, I'm not talking about him," said Hermione. "He is busy with the Order of the Phoenix all day, and the most we can see him when we go to Hogsmeade for the weekend, that number is far away. not enough."

"So who is it?"

Harry frowned at her.

Hermione exhaled deeply.

"Can't you see it yet?"

She said, "I'm talking about you, Harry."

There was a moment of silence.

The breeze of the night made the window behind Ron rattled, and the fire in the stove had been extinguished.

"What's wrong with me?" Harry said.

"I mean let you teach us Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Harry stared at her blankly, then turned to Ron, wanting to exchange annoyed glances with Ron—sometimes when Hermione talked about s.p.e.w. and other absurd plans, they often exchanged glances like this.

However, to Harry's astonishment, Ron's expression was not annoying.

He frowned slightly, obviously thinking.

Then said: "This is an idea."

"What's an idea?" Harry said.

"You," Ron said, "teaching us all to learn magic."

"but……"

There was a smile on Harry's face. The two must be joking with him.

"But I'm not a teacher, I can't go--"

But Hermione looked at him firmly: "Harry, you are the best defense against the dark arts in the whole year."

"Me?" Harry said, smiling happily than before. "I am not. You get better test results than me every time—"

"Actually not," Hermione said calmly. "You surpassed me in the third grade-only that year when we both went through that test together and met a teacher who really knew how to do it.

But I'm not talking about test results here, Harry, think about the things you did! "

"What do you mean?"

"If you want me to say, I'm not sure I really want such a stupid person to teach me."

Ron said to Hermione mockingly, then he turned to Harry.

"Let me think about it," he said, learning how Gore stretched his face as he tried desperately, "Ah... the first year-you rescued the Philosopher's Stone from the mysterious man."

"But it's luck,"

Harry said, "Not by skill."

"The next year," Ron interrupted him: "You killed the basilisk and eliminated Riddle."

"Yes, but if Fox didn't show up at the time, I—"

"In the third year," Ron's voice rose higher, "you repelled a hundred dementors all at once—"

"You know it's a fluke, if the time converter doesn't—"

"Last year," Ron was screaming, "You got rid of the claws of the mysterious man again—"

"Hear me out!"

Harry said almost angrily, because now Ron and Hermione are laughing there.

"Listen to me first, okay? These things are great to say, but they are all based on luck-I don't know what I'm doing half of the time, it's not planned at all, I just acted based on my feelings, and Almost always get help—"

Ron and Hermione were still laughing there, and Harry felt his anger rising.

He himself didn't understand why he was so angry.

"Don't sit there with a smirk, as if you know better than me. It was me who was there, wasn't it?"

He said excitedly, "I know what's going on, right?

Every time I can escape from the dead, it’s not because of how good I am in Defence Against the Dark Arts. I can get away because of—because I always get help in time, or because my feelings are fairly accurate—but This time I came here in a daze, I didn't know what I was doing-don't laugh! "

The bowl of Motra Rat Tentacle Juice fell on the ground~lightnovelpub.net~ The bowl was smashed.

He found out that he stood up, but he couldn't remember how he stood up.

Crookshanks slipped under the sofa.

The smiles on Ron and Hermione's faces disappeared.

"You don't know what it's like!

You--none of you have faced him before. You thought it was just reciting a lot of spells and throwing them at them, just like you did in class?

At that time, you know that there is nothing between you and death, except yourself—your own wisdom, or courage, or whatever—you know that you will be killed or tortured in a blink of an eye, or Watching friends die, how can they think normally? They never told us in class what it's like to deal with something like that!

And you two are sitting here and posing like this, as if I am a clever boy that makes me stand here alive, and Cedric is a fool and messed up things..."

He was so angry that he yelled, but Hermione thought it was good.

Because this is real him.

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