"Oh, because they don’t understand the proper way to eat Rock Cake, Annie—trust me." Harry said evasively.

Neville also caught on quickly, changing his tune rapidly: "Yes, I don’t really like the flavor of Rock Cake—ask Ron, actually Rock Cake is quite good..."

Annie was somewhat skeptical, but with all her classmates saying so, she didn’t know if she should believe it.

As for Hermione... well, Hermione hadn’t chosen Divination Class, so she didn’t have the chance to stand there and enlighten Annie about what Rock Cake truly tasted like.

Filled with confusion, Annie followed Harry and the others all the way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

As they walked into the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, they found that Professor Umbridge was already sitting behind the lectern.

She wore the same fuzzy pink cardigan she wore the previous night, with a black velvet bow on top of her head, looking very much like a pink old toad.

It wasn’t surprising that the students thought so, after all, yesterday Umbridge’s speech had already proved that she was a... not very likable professor.

Just think about it, even Dumbledore, the headmaster, kept his speeches under one minute—how dare she, a professor, talk for half an hour?

The atmosphere in the classroom was very strange; every student who walked in tried their best to avoid making any sound.

This created a stark contrast to Professor Lupin’s time—even in Professor Snape’s Magic Potion class, everyone wasn’t this excessively restrained.

No one knew what kind of personality the new professor had, so it was better to be cautious.

Once everyone was present, Professor Umbridge stood up and said, "Good afternoon, students!"

Everyone looked at each other, not knowing what was going on.

Harry, however, was quite tactful and, after signaling to Ron and the others, they all replied in unison, "Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge."

Unexpectedly, there was a glimmer of surprise in Professor Umbridge’s eyes.

"Tsk, tsk." She shook her head and said, "This won’t do, as the only Magic Academy in the United Kingdom Region, why don’t you have any discipline? But what surprised me is that the polite students are from Gryffindor, I thought it would be Slytherin students?"

No one could quite grasp what she meant, and before they could think about it, Professor Umbridge spoke again.

"Of course, this is precisely what I want—in future classes, if it is morning, you should answer ’Good morning, Professor Umbridge,’ if it is afternoon, you should do the same—understood? Let’s try again! Good afternoon, students!"

"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," the students replied in unison.

There was a look of satisfaction on Professor Umbridge’s face, particularly... how should I put it, especially smug, especially self-important satisfaction.

"That’s more like it." Professor Umbridge said in a particularly nauseating doll’s voice relative to her appearance, "This isn’t too difficult, is it? At least it’s much simpler than the art of Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Yes, Professor." The students answered listlessly.

Perhaps it was an illusion, but quite a few people felt that this new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was really annoying.

"Next, put away your magic wands." Professor Umbridge said, holding her head high, continuing in that sweet voice, "Take out your feather pens—"

No one knew what Professor Umbridge was brewing, so without thinking much, they put down their magic wands and took out pen, ink, and paper.

"As far as I know, students," Professor Umbridge said, "during these past four years—at least since you’ve been here—each year you have changed to a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, right? So, I believe your Defense Against the Dark Arts course is not systematic—this is not me exaggerating, because everyone has their teaching habits."

Saying this, Professor Umbridge sighed regretfully.

"Alas, so that is to say, I believe you students indeed have talent, but are being delayed by Hogwarts—the constant change of professors, many of whom seem not to teach according to the approved curriculum standards of the Ministry of Magic, unfortunately, means you are far from the level you should be at in O.W.L.s year."

With these words, many students perked up.

Oh, this new teacher’s speech is quite something, quite insightful?

No one has ever spoken to them with such a broad perspective, and for a moment, they were actually a bit taken aback.

Professor Umbridge opened her handbag and pulled out a surprisingly short magic wand, which she tapped hard on the blackboard.

Two lines of writing immediately appeared on the blackboard:

[Return to the Basics of Defense Against the Dark Arts]

"However, you will be pleased to know that these issues are about to be corrected. This year, we are going to learn a course that is carefully arranged, theory-centered, and approved by the Ministry of Magic, please copy down these words."

She tapped the blackboard again, the two previous lines disappeared, replaced by "Course Objectives."

1. Understand the basic principles of magic defense.

2. Learn to identify legal use occasions for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

3. Evaluate Defense Against the Dark Arts in practical application contexts.

Ron looked up, eyeing the writing on the blackboard.

Could it be she really has some skill?

He turned to look at Harry beside him, finding that the latter had already picked up a feather pen and started copying.

Originally planning to ask what was going on, but seeing this, our new Class Prefect shrugged and also joined in the note-taking process.

The classroom was silent, with only the gentle sound of feather pens on paper, which sounded quite pleasant, giving a classroom vibe.

Professor Umbridge didn’t rush to speak; she held a magic wand in one hand and wandered around the classroom, occasionally looking down to examine the students’ notes.

"You." Professor Umbridge pointed with the magic wand at Bruce Zabini, "This Slytherin student, why aren’t you taking notes?"

Bruce had no choice but to pick up a feather pen and start copying in his notebook.

"You need to say, sorry, Professor Umbridge." Professor Umbridge said with a stern face.

"Sorry, Professor Umbridge," Bruce said reluctantly.

Professor Umbridge didn’t push further, but this move certainly made other students who didn’t want to take notes apprehensive.

They all lowered their heads, took out pens and began frantically writing in their notebooks.

"She really has a way." Ron said gleefully in a low voice, audible only to him and Harry.

However, Harry didn’t intend to respond to Ron at all.

He knew that Professor Umbridge was part of the Ministry of Magic, and a "Close Attendant" of Minister Fudge.

Entering Hogwarts, she was surely here with some ulterior motive.

And the Ministry of Magic wasn’t pleased with his encounter with Voldemort, so Harry couldn’t guarantee that Umbridge wouldn’t target him because of it.

Based on the principle of not being afraid of trouble but also not seeking trouble, Harry thought that writing wasn’t really a big deal, what if Professor Umbridge actually has some skills?

As the saying goes, when three people walk together, one will surely be my teacher, that’s the logic.

Being open-minded leads to progress.

Umbridge continued to walk around the classroom, and when she stopped next to Harry, she stayed a while longer.

Seeing Harry’s complete transcribed notes, Professor Umbridge nodded with satisfaction and turned back to the lectern.