aircannonsinc Chapter 264 The Utterly Despicable Halbo
Chapter 264 The Utterly Despicable Halbo
Chapter 264 The Utterly Despicable Halbo
Picking up where we left off, Harry and his group arrived at the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's office, where they saw Helbo engrossed in reading a book titled "What is Dark Magic?"
Hermione leaned closer to Harry and whispered, "Is he really that confident? He doesn't even bother to put on an act?"
Harry leaned down and whispered, "You can hide forever. If this guy is really up to something, he'll slip up sooner or later."
Let's take another look at him.
Everyone returned to their seats, and the bell rang. Umbridge took a few deep breaths, composed himself, and put on a sweet smile, saying, "Good morning, students."
She spoke sweetly, but the heroes didn't respond, only giving her cold, icy glances.
The woman felt awkward and her chest felt like it was stuffed with a tattered wad of cotton, but she dared not show it. The makeup on her face also stiffened as she smiled.
You must know that she was a shrewd person, and she knew perfectly well that Hogwarts was a place in the British wizarding world that did not submit to the king's rule.
If it weren't for Fudge's coercion and enticement, she would rather have acknowledged her biological father as a janitor in the ministry than come here to be a professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Seeing that there was no sound around her, she thought to herself that everyone had already greeted her, so she picked up her voice again and began to speak to herself.
"Now please take out your 'Defense of Magic Theory' and turn to page five. Read the first chapter, the basic principles for beginners."
Following her instructions, the heroes took out their textbooks, turned to page five, and silently read with their heads bowed.
Upon seeing this, Umbridge leaned back in her chair behind the podium, took out a small glass bottle from her pink velvet handbag, and began to slowly and deliberately paint her nails.
About a quarter of an hour passed, and the woman was still bowing her head, applying and rubbing her ten fingers with nail polish.
The heroes then realized that the woman wanted them to read an entire lesson.
Defense Against the Dark Arts class has always placed the greatest emphasis on practical training. Even Lockhart, the so-called "pretty boy," once brought a cage of Cornish elves to make a show of it.
In this turbulent world, with Death Eaters and the Ukrainians running rampant, it is a time when demons and monsters are at their mercy. Yet this woman only teaches people to memorize books. What benefit is that in real combat?
The heroes were all burning with anger and restless. Whispers began to rise among them, and their eyes were all secretly glancing at Harry.
The scarred man remained calm and simply snapped the book shut. Ron immediately raised his arm to help him.
Seeing that it was Harry's close associate who raised his hand, Umbridge didn't dare to be negligent. She quickly raised her head and asked in a sweet, coquettish voice, "Darling, is there a problem?"
Ron nodded and said bluntly, "I have a few questions about your course objectives."
"If we're only taking this course to learn by reading books, then what's the point of having you?"
Upon hearing this, Professor Man immediately erupted in a clamor. The heroes echoed his sentiments, chattering away like a hundred sparrows vying for attention.
Upon seeing this, Umbridge felt a surge of inexplicable anger rising within him.
Just as he was about to explode, he caught a glimpse of the gleaming weapons of various lengths on either side of the desk. His anger was instantly extinguished, turning into a puff of white smoke that traveled down his intestines and turned into a fart.
"I will explain it to you." Umbridge could no longer use her sweet, coquettish voice; she simply said, "This is very important for your O.W.Ls exam."
"Your parents must have told you that this exam is related to your future and employment."
Before she could finish speaking, Hermione chimed in, "I think the Death Eaters will come even earlier than the exams."
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After he finished speaking, a thunderous roar of agreement erupted throughout the hall.
Some, even more impatient, pulled out their wands and pointed them directly at Umbridge's face, demanding instruction.
The others also drew their weapons, pressing close to the enemy's face.
It should be noted that this woman was originally a clerk in the department; she had never used a magic wand before.
Seeing this, he was so frightened that he trembled all over, like a toad covered in frost, and hurriedly waved his hands, saying, "Alright! Children!"
"If, if you don't like theory classes—we can certainly switch to practical classes!"
The heroes were not buying into this delaying tactic and shouted in unison, "Then when are we going to have our practical lesson?!"
Umbridge's forehead was beaded with sweat, his eyes darting around, not knowing what to do, when he suddenly caught sight of Herpo in the corner, engrossed in his textbook, seemingly oblivious to what was happening outside.
A sudden thought struck her, and she rushed forward, pressing her hands firmly against Halbo's shoulders.
"We can do it today! Mr. Helpo can lead you in a practical lesson!"
"Of course, it's not that I'm unwilling to teach for you, it's just that I need to revise my lesson plan."
She mumbled a string of empty words, then quickly leaned close to Halberd's ear, half-pleading, half-threatening, "Assistant, darling, now it's your chance to shine. I know you're not content to just be an assistant, are you?"
"How I write on your year-end teacher evaluation form depends on your performance today."
Before she could finish speaking, the woman had already let go of his hand, not caring whether Helbo was alive or dead. She hurriedly kicked over two chairs and dashed out of the lecture hall.
As soon as she left, a hundred or so lines of eyeliner appeared on Herbo's face.
After exchanging silent glances with the others for a long while, he calmly closed his book and said slowly, "If you want to have practical lessons, then we need a larger classroom."
Harry stood up and replied, "Spacious classrooms aren't hard to find; the most you'll find underground at Hogwarts are mostly unused rooms."
"But is the professor truly proficient in Defense Against the Dark Arts?"
Upon hearing this, Herbo remained unmoved, simply putting the book in his hand into his pocket and nodding, saying, "Now I understand."
After saying that, he stood up and looked around at the students in the room, saying, "Alright, I'm going to find a classroom that's spacious enough now. You can stay here and get ready."
"I don't want you to perform terribly in actual combat."
Nassimus, with his fiery temper, couldn't contain himself upon hearing such words. He leaped up and roared, "What? You mean I'm trash?"
Helbo shook his head. "As things stand, everyone here is."
After speaking, he ignored everyone else, lifted his robe, and strode out the door to find his classroom.
These words were so arrogant that they immediately aroused public outrage.
All the heroes rolled up their sleeves and rubbed their fists, cursing incessantly, all saying that they would teach him a lesson during the later practice session.
After he disappeared from the corner of the corridor, Hermione turned to Harry and asked, "Harry, what do you think he's up to?"
Harry said, "This person is discreet and patient; it's hard to figure him out in a short time."
"If I find anything suspicious at that time, I will ask Professor Dumbledore to use the school's protective formation to capture him."
After holding the incense stick for a short while, Haierbo turned back and led the students down three stone steps to a spacious classroom.
Upon entering the room, Nassimus could no longer contain himself. He snatched the flail with one hand, which whistled through the air, and gripped his wand in the other. He strode to the center of the room and shouted, "Come on, Professor Helbo!"
"I'm willing to be the first person to have a real-world exercise with you!"
Seeing this, the rest of the people quickly retreated to the sides, leaving a white space in the center.
Helbo remained silent, only slowly drawing his wand, stopping a few steps in front of Seamus, and asked, "What's your name?"
"Simole Finigan"
"Very well, Mr. Finigan. I expect you to observe dueling etiquette; I only intend to see your actual combat skills."
Upon hearing this, Seamus could only grip the handle of his meteor hammer so tightly it creaked, suppressing his thoughts, and muttered, "Of course, Professor."
Helbo held his wand to his chest and solemnly said, "Now, bow."
Simo bowed respectfully as instructed.
Unexpectedly, just as he lowered his head, Halbo suddenly raised his right foot, like a steel spear, and struck Simo squarely in the face!
But then a sharp "crack" was heard, as if a dry branch had been stepped on. Simo's nose collapsed in response, and two streams of blood spurted from his nostrils.
Ximo let out a muffled groan and his body flew backward.
Despite his darkened vision, he gritted his teeth, raised his wand, and was about to cast a spell, having survived countless battles.
Unexpectedly, Herbo was also quite skilled. He closed in, spread his fingers, grabbed Herbo's face, and slammed him hard to the ground.
With a muffled thud, Ximo's head slammed into the stone floor, the impact sending his soul tumbling wildly through his body, and stars flashing before his eyes.
Before he could catch his breath, Helbo's wand touched his body, saying, "Entanglement."
A dozen or so black, python-like vines, each as thick as a child's arm, darted out from the cracks in the stone slabs and instantly bound Ximo's limbs and torso tightly to the ground.
Helbo put away his wand, looked around at the dumbfounded students, but his expression remained calm.
"This is the first lesson I'm teaching you: never trust your enemy."
The room was silent for a while, then suddenly a buzzing discussion arose, like a beehive being disturbed.
Ron was stunned and exclaimed, "This guy is too despicable! He's utterly shameless!"
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Simo, now regaining his senses, struggled, causing the vines to rustle, and cursed, "You fucking tricked me!"
"You said you would observe dueling etiquette!"
Halberd glanced at him sideways. "If a Death Eater told you something like that, would you believe it, Mr. Fenegan?"
But you're a professor!
"No one says Death Eaters can't impersonate professors."
Helbo stepped forward and untied the vines binding him, then raised his wand and cast a healing spell. Simona's broken nose bridge returned to its original position on its own, and the chaotic dizziness in his mind gradually dissipated.
Although Ximo was still unconvinced, he knew that what this fellow said was indeed a matter of life and death, so he could only sullenly brush the dust off his robe and mutter, "If I had known, we should have attacked together."
Halberd's ears twitched, and he suddenly tapped his wand on the floor. A loud "boom" resounded, and a hole about ten feet in diameter suddenly exploded in the corner of the floor.
He glanced coldly at the dumbfounded Seamus and said, "While I was looking for the classroom, I also set up twenty-seven explosive spells under the floor."
"If you all come at me together, I'll blow you all up."
Upon hearing this, all the students in the hall were frozen in place, like ice sculptures or snow puppets, unable to utter a sound for a long time.
"This is the second lesson. If you know the location of the actual battle, it's always a good idea to set up an ambush beforehand."
He paused, then added, "However, I admire your attitude, Mr. Phagani. If someone challenges you to a duel, it would be perfectly sensible to call upon your friends to ambush him."
"Gryffindor gets ten points."
Poems as proof:
The martial world is not a training ground; life and death are predestined and left to fate.
Benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and trustworthiness can all be abandoned; taking your life is the only real goal.
The classroom was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Ron turned to Harry and said, "I take back my assessment of him as despicable. He's definitely a strategist."
Harry didn't answer, but instead stepped forward, cupped his fists, and said, "Professor, you have great insight! Please allow me to learn a few moves from you."
Just as they were about to get into position, they suddenly heard a loud jingling of a copper bell outside the corridor.
Helbo put his wand back into his sleeve and walked towards the door without looking back, saying, "Unfortunately, Mr. Potter."
"Let's talk about it in the next class."
The students dispersed in droves, discussing the matter all the way. Some cursed Helbo for his vicious actions, while others praised his blunt but reasonable words, and the two sides argued heatedly.
Harry and his group headed straight to the Great Hall for lunch. Hermione declared with certainty, "I dare say he's that despicable ancient Greek dark wizard, Helbo," even Mad-Eye Moody couldn't have done it.
Harry, however, seemed thoughtful and said, "If he really is that ancient sorcerer, the one who attacked and killed me on Privet Drive was probably not him."
Ron was puzzled. "Why do you say that?"
"Those who attacked that night were ruthless, but not malicious. In terms of insidious scheming, they were inferior to this fellow."
The group walked and talked, and when they arrived at the auditorium for their meal, the sounds of arguing about Herbo could still be heard all around.
Fred and George, who were listening to the commotion, were curious and pulled Ron aside to ask him for details.
Upon hearing this shocking turn of events in class, George instinctively patted Fred's thigh and whispered, "Fred, a tough guy has come to the school."
Fred rubbed his hands together, his eyes gleaming. "Don't we have a Defense Against the Dark Arts class this afternoon?"
The two exchanged a glance, then, forgetting all about their food, jumped up and ran out of the auditorium. They called over a few friends and decided to dig a trench in the classroom.
I'll wait until Helbo comes in so I can give him a good beating with magic bullets.
When it was time for dinner, Fred and his group returned looking disheveled and reeking of foul odors; they were truly a sorry sight.
It turned out that the two brothers thought their plan of waiting for the rabbit to come to them was foolproof, but the other brother, Hailbo, was even more wicked. He caught more than a dozen snails from the forbidden forest and threw them into the gate.
The room reeked of a foul stench, making Fred and his companions see stars.
As everyone covered their mouths and noses and rushed out the door, the gatekeeper Herpo picked them all up.
That night in the secret room, Fred and George were talking animatedly, recounting their past battles with the snails, and verbally abusing Halberd.
Those who had taken Defense Against the Dark Arts class that morning mostly nodded in agreement. Those who hadn't were filled with apprehension.
Harry, unusually, didn't join in the fun, but instead watched Draco and his father write their reply from a corner.
Just then, a cloud of white mist burst open, and a house-elf appeared out of thin air, shouting urgently, "Mr. Potter!"
"We've discovered Mr. Helbo's little tricks!"
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