"Lewis Green is going to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts himself!"
The news spread like wildfire through the second-year students of Ravenclaw and Gryffindor.
Before long, students began flocking to Lewis to verify the rumor.
Among them were two particularly important visitors:
Cho Chang and Hermione Granger.
"So only second-years can attend?" Cho asked, her face full of disappointment. "No third-years? That's not fair. Even though you're only a second-year, everyone in third year recognizes how capable you are."
Lewis spread his hands helplessly.
"I'd love to teach the third-years too, but I simply don't have the time. Besides, you don't share Defense Against the Dark Arts with us."
Hermione, on the other hand, was brimming with excitement.
"Then I'll be your teaching assistant!" she declared, almost bouncing on her toes. "That role should obviously go to me, since I'm the one you've trained the longest."
She looked so eager that Lewis couldn't help smiling.
"Of course," he said, gently patting her on the head. "The assistant position is yours."
Unfortunately, the cat ears she once wore had long since disappeared at her own insistence.
Even so, Miss Granger was about to fully live up to her nickname:
Little McGonagall.
Receiving Lewis's approval, Hermione hurried back to Gryffindor Tower, energized to rally support among her housemates.
Another noteworthy visitor was Penelope Clearwater.
With her usual proud expression, the Ravenclaw prefect said, "For Ciri's sake, I'll use my authority as prefect to help drum up support."
How generous of you.
Though Lewis was quite certain his own reputation was more than enough, he thanked her sincerely.
By the time the weekend arrived, Hermione had compiled the results from both houses.
Standing in the courtyard near the Transfiguration classroom, she held up a parchment and announced in a clear voice:
"Among Ravenclaw second-years, 95 percent want to attend Lewis's classes, 3 percent don't care, and only one student would prefer private study."
"Among Gryffindor second-years, 80 percent want to attend, 13 percent don't care, and only three students would rather study on their own."
She lowered the parchment and looked at Lewis expectantly.
Lewis nodded thoughtfully.
"It seems everyone is quite interested in hearing me share my experience in Defense Against the Dark Arts."
He smiled.
"In that case, I would be honored to oblige. During our next Defense Against the Dark Arts period, I'll teach some practical techniques and personal insights. I hope you'll all attend."
Thunderous cheers erupted around the courtyard.
The students gathered here were the most enthusiastic supporters from both houses.
Their excitement nearly lifted the roof.
Lewis raised both hands, and the noise gradually subsided.
"Since this is a proper class, there will also be proper preparation."
"For our first lesson, we'll focus on the Disarming Charm."
"No textbooks required. Just bring your wands and notebooks."
"Please spread the word."
Thus, a student-organized Defense Against the Dark Arts course—taught by Lewis himself—was officially born.
When the first class arrived the following week, Lewis stepped into the classroom to find nearly every second-year Ravenclaw and Gryffindor seated neatly at their desks.
Several students even greeted him eagerly.
The atmosphere was far more energetic than any normal study period.
Clearly, they wanted to learn.
Defense magic was useful.
It was practical.
And, perhaps most importantly, it was cool.
After all, what little boy didn't dream of wielding a toy gun?
For wizarding children, offensive and defensive spells filled the same niche.
As for the girls, some genuinely wanted to protect themselves.
Others were there simply to support Lewis.
The class had drawn so much attention that even Filius Flitwick had taken a seat at the back of the room to observe.
Under the gaze of dozens of expectant faces, Lewis began.
To make a memorable impression, he gave a polite nod and flicked his wand.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
Eight human-sized figures appeared seemingly from nowhere.
The students gasped.
These were wooden golems Lewis had personally crafted.
Combining ancient magical guardian techniques with arcane golem construction methods, they were easy to summon and possessed basic magical resistance.
Most low-level spells had little effect on them, aside from fire magic and plant-based spells.
They were ideal training dummies.
"Since this is Defense Against the Dark Arts," Lewis began, "our focus will be on practical combat."
"But before we begin, we need to understand the spell itself."
He looked over the class.
"Who can explain the Disarming Charm?"
As his assistant, Hermione's hand shot into the air immediately.
Lewis smiled and called on her.
Hermione stood.
"The Disarming Charm uses the incantation 'Expelliarmus.' It causes an opponent's wand to leave their hand."
"The strength of the spell depends on the caster's magical power."
"It is commonly used in dueling because it is fast, has a short travel time, and can seize the initiative or interrupt an opponent's spellcasting."
Lewis nodded approvingly.
"Excellent answer. Thank you, Hermione."
He paused dramatically.
"Ten points to Gryffindor—"
He stopped and grinned.
"Unfortunately, I don't actually have the authority to award points."
The room burst into laughter.
Lewis then demonstrated the spell himself, casting Expelliarmus at one of the wooden golems and explaining each component of the wand movement and incantation.
Afterward, he divided the class into groups of eight or nine, assigning each group a golem for target practice.
Lewis and Hermione circulated through the classroom, correcting mistakes and offering advice.
Once everyone could cast the spell successfully, Lewis activated the golems.
The wooden figures began moving around the room.
Now the students were practicing against mobile targets.
The exercise became even more exciting.
Spell after spell flashed through the air.
Wands flew from wooden hands.
Students shouted and laughed in triumph.
By the end of the lesson, every student had successfully cast the Disarming Charm.
And they had enjoyed every second of it.
When the bell rang, the classroom buzzed with enthusiasm.
"This is the best Defense Against the Dark Arts class ever!"
"If Lewis were the professor, I'd never skip!"
"I can't wait for the next lesson!"
Even Professor Flitwick was full of praise.
"Excellent work, Mr. Green," he said warmly. "At this rate, you could graduate and immediately take over as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."
Lewis could only smile wryly.
"I think I'll pass, Professor Flitwick."
He shuddered theatrically.
"I'd quite like to live a few more years."
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