Chapter 320: Chapter 320
Since the start of the term, Lynn had been plunged into an incredibly busy academic schedule.
His daily itinerary was packed to the brim.
He was busy from the moment he woke up until classes ended at noon. He continued to be busy in the afternoon. At night, he also had to patrol—Prefect duties, though not a daily shift, still occurred once or twice a week.
The remaining time had to be spent on homework.
Even his favorite hobby of fishing wasn’t as frequent anymore.
Lynn sometimes thought that this was probably the norm for a fifth-year.
With the O.W.L.s hanging over their heads, the Professors were desperately stuffing knowledge into the students’ brains, and the students were desperately trying to fit it in—forcing it even if it wouldn’t fit.
In another year, it would be the sixth year, and they would have to choose N.E.W.T. courses, which would be even busier.
After that would be graduation, finding a job, going to work, and then being busy like this for a lifetime.
Well... if nothing unexpected happened, that last point probably wouldn’t have much to do with him.
Time slipped away quietly amidst this busy academic life until Friday morning arrived.
Lynn faced his first Defense Against the Dark Arts class of his fifth year, and it was a double period.
To be honest, he wasn’t looking forward to this Defense Against the Dark Arts class at all.
Aside from everything else, based solely on the textbook Umbridge had chosen—Defensive Magical Theory—this year’s Defense Against the Dark Arts class was doomed.
He had flipped through that book in Diagon Alley; the entire thing was theoretical, without a single decent defensive spell, just full of nonsense.
If you wanted to know how to defend against the Dark Arts, this book wouldn’t help you. But if you wanted to write a dissertation on the Dark Arts, this book could serve as a reference.
By the time Lynn arrived at the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, Umbridge was already seated behind the teacher’s desk.
She was still wearing that hideous pink cardigan. A pink bow was tied at her collar, a pink clip was in her hair, and even her nails were painted pink.
She sat behind the desk with her hands crossed on the table, and Defensive Magical Theory was spread out in front of her.
She looked like she was seriously preparing for the lesson, but Lynn noticed that there were no creases on the pages of that book, no annotations, and not even any signs of pages being turned.
It looked like it had just been bought from the bookstore, and even the packaging hadn’t been removed properly.
The students in the class were all sitting below, silent. An oppressive atmosphere permeated the classroom.
Lynn didn’t speak either; he just found a seat in the back row and started to space out.
The bell for class rang on time, and Umbridge stood up from behind the desk.
She looked around at the students below, her face squeezing into a smile that looked worse than crying.
"Before the lesson begins," Umbridge spoke, "there are some rules you need to follow."
She paused for a moment, as if waiting for a reaction from the class.
Seeing that no one spoke, she seemed very satisfied with this, and the curve of her mouth widened a bit more.
"First, when answering a question, you must add ’Professor Umbridge’ at the end." She extended an index finger with pink nail polish, "For example, ’Yes, Professor Umbridge,’ or ’No, Professor Umbridge.’"
She paused again, then cleared her throat ostentatiously, her gaze sweeping across every young face below.
"Is that understood?"
The classroom was quiet for about two seconds.
"Yes, Professor Umbridge."
"Understood, Professor Umbridge."
"Yes, Professor Umbridge."
Umbridge nodded with satisfaction. She extended a second finger.
"Second, absolute silence must be maintained in the classroom." Her tone grew heavier, "No whispering, no passing notes, and no making any unnecessary noise without permission."
"Third." She extended a third finger, "You must raise your hand to speak, and you are not allowed to speak without approval. And most importantly—fourth, questioning the Professor is not allowed."
The classroom became even quieter. So quiet that one could hear the birds chirping outside the window and their own heartbeat.
Sitting in the back row and listening to these four ’rules,’ Lynn couldn’t help but think, ’Good grief.’
This teaching model gave him a strange sense of déjà vu—wasn’t this just that ’I talk, you listen; I hit, you take it; I ask, you answer; I tell you what to do, and you do it’ style of spoon-feeding education?
"Good." Umbridge retracted her four fingers and clasped her hands back on the table, returning to that friendly smile, "Now, let us turn our textbooks to the main text of Chapter One."
The sound of rustling pages filled the room.
Umbridge looked down at the brand-new textbook in front of her, flipped to Chapter One, and then looked up.
"Ready—" she drawled out, "Read."
The classroom was silent for a second.
The students looked at each other, their expressions turning from confusion to bewilderment, and from bewilderment to disbelief.
Read? Read what? Read the textbook? Is she asking us to read the textbook from beginning to end? This is Defense Against the Dark Arts, not a reading class.
"What are you waiting for?" Umbridge’s voice rose slightly, "Read."
Lynn felt completely insulted by this lack of effort.
Take Lockhart, whom he disliked the most, as an example; although he was an empty-headed buffoon, at least he would perform plays.
But Umbridge? She was too lazy to even speak, directly making the students read the textbook.
Lynn simply stopped listening, pushed the textbook aside, leaned on the desk, and started to sleep.
When Umbridge saw this from the podium, she was nearly fuming with rage.
She wanted to lash out, but remembering the task Fudge had given her, she forced herself to endure it.
...
Time flew by while Lynn slept.
Ring, ring~
The bell for the end of class rang on time. Lynn had slept from the beginning of class until the morning sessions were over.
Just as he was about to follow the crowd out of the classroom, Umbridge called out to him once again.
"Mr. Lynn, you should have time for a chat today, shouldn’t you?"
She glanced at Lynn, then at Edgar Bones, who was about to slip away behind him, "And Mr. Bones, you come along too."
Lynn yawned and nodded.
Edgar was completely stunned.
His eyes were wide open, and his expression was full of confusion, as if to say, ’How am I involved in this?’
He looked at Lynn, who had already started walking toward the office, gritted his teeth, and followed.
...
Fourth floor, Umbridge’s office.
After having gone through countless owners, this room had once again been transformed into a brand-new style.
Lynn stood at the door, took a look inside, and then fell silent for a long while.
Everything was covered in frilly cloths—the podium was covered with a white lace cloth; the bookshelves were hung with pink frilled curtains; the windows had pink frilled curtains, and even the pot for the plant on the windowsill was fitted with a pink frilled cover.
On the wall hung a set of decorative plates, each painted with a brightly colored large cat, and each cat wore a different colored bow—pink, blue, yellow, purple—identical to the bow on Umbridge’s pink cardigan.
Lynn walked into the office and sat down on a sofa of his own accord. He adjusted his posture, leaned back against the sofa, and waited for Umbridge to speak.
Umbridge didn’t make Lynn wait too long, "I wonder what plans Mr. Lynn has for his future development?"
Lynn glanced at her.
A Senior Undersecretary of the Ministry of Magic and a new Professor finding a student for a ’chat,’ not asking about academics or discipline, but immediately asking about ’future development’—the meaning was already very clear.
He thought for a moment and replied in a very casual tone: "No plans, I’ll graduate from Hogwarts first and then see."
Umbridge’s smile stiffened, "And after graduation?" she pressed, "Have you considered any particular career?"
Lynn thought again.
"I haven’t decided yet," he said. "Maybe I’ll take a year off first and travel around. I’ve been to a few places during the holidays and found them quite interesting; I’d like to visit more."
Umbridge was clearly not satisfied with this answer, "Then what do you think of the Ministry of Magic?"
Lynn leaned back against the sofa, his expression unchanged, and said in an indifferent tone: "It seems quite busy."
Seeing that Lynn was truly impervious to her advances, Umbridge decided to try a different angle.
So, she turned her gaze toward Edgar.
"Mr. Bones, your father is doing excellent work in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Have you considered following in his footsteps and serving the Ministry of Magic in the future?"
Edgar was startled by this sudden call-out.
He had originally thought this conversation had nothing to do with him and that he was just there to make up the numbers; he hadn’t expected Umbridge to actually have something to say to him.
He opened his mouth, his mind racing through several thoughts, and then said: "Uh... I haven’t decided yet, Professor Umbridge."
"Take your time, there’s no rush." Her tone was like she was coaxing a child, "You’re still young, and you have plenty of time to consider. The doors of the Ministry of Magic are always open to talented young people, the Ministry..."
Seeing that Umbridge was going to go on forever once she started, Lynn didn’t feel like listening any longer.
He stood up directly from the sofa.
"Professor Umbridge," he said, "if there’s nothing else, we’ll be going now. We have another class next."
Edgar also stood up, his movements much faster than Lynn’s, as if he had been waiting for those words.
Umbridge’s tone faltered, "Of course, I’ve taken up your time. If you need anything in the future, feel free to come to me. My office is always open to you."
Lynn nodded and turned to walk toward the door.
Edgar followed behind with quick steps. The two walked out of the office, and the door closed behind them.
Inside the room, Umbridge’s expression was incredibly sour as she watched them leave.
"Since you’re so ungrateful, then..."
With that, Umbridge took out her Magic Phone and dialed Fudge’s number.
The phone rang for less than a few seconds before being picked up, and Fudge’s slightly urgent voice came from the other side, "How are things going, Dolores?"
"Minister~"
---
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