Defence Against the Dark Arts was one of the most important courses at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry—so important, in fact, that many felt the words "one of" could be left out entirely.
After all, it taught students defensive spells and how to protect themselves against Dark Arts and the dangerous creatures that wielded them.
In this class, the Professor would introduce students to a variety of dark creatures and curses, teaching them the spells, counter-curses, and combat skills necessary to fend off such threats.
While Charms and Transfiguration also taught students to wield magic, Defence Against the Dark Arts was the only class at Hogwarts where they could learn how to fight—how to duel and defend themselves with magic.
In other words, it was the only true combat-oriented course in the entire school, often featuring the very monsters and legends spoken of in wizarding lore.
Naturally, that made it one of Hogwarts' most popular classes. For many, again, the phrase "one of" didn't apply.
At least, that used to be the case.
Now, Ark could confidently say this: Defence Against the Dark Arts had become the single most disappointing class at Hogwarts—possibly even duller than History of Magic.
"Now—n-now take out your t-textbooks, The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection, and—turn to this p-page…"
On the first floor of the castle, in a cramped, stuffy classroom, the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor stammered his way through instructions, clutching his textbook like a lifeline.
Normally, the class would've been held in a spacious room off the right-hand corridor on the fourth floor. But after Headmaster Albus Dumbledore sealed off that corridor, Professor Quirinus Quirrell had been forced to relocate, borrowing a smaller room near the central courtyard.
Of course, none of the students cared about that. At least, not the Ravenclaw and Slytherin first-years sitting there that morning.
What they did care about was the suffocating, pungent stench in the air—and the dismal performance of the stammering man in front of them.
Quirinus Quirrell was a timid-looking man wrapped in a violet turban. From the moment he entered, he'd ordered all the doors and windows shut—as if he were a vampire terrified of sunlight—and immediately filled the room with the overwhelming smell of garlic. The students trapped inside could barely breathe.
He claimed he'd traveled through the Forbidden Forest before term began and been cursed by a coven of vampires and witches he'd encountered there. That, he said, was why he needed the room sealed tight—to keep them away.
Anyone with half a brain could tell that was utter nonsense.
"What kind of vampires or witches would dare cause trouble at Hogwarts?" one Slytherin boy muttered under his breath.
Quirrell ignored him.
Instead, he went on reading directly from the book in his halting voice, so monotonous that several students looked ready to collapse from boredom.
Even the proud Slytherins and the normally patient Ravenclaws couldn't help but frown at his endless stuttering.
"This is so boring…"
Sitting beside Ark, Padma Patil whispered under her breath. Her words drew Ark's attention—he'd been watching Quirrell carefully, or rather, the turban on his head.
"I heard from some upper-year students that Defence Against the Dark Arts is supposed to be the most exciting class at Hogwarts," Padma murmured, glancing around. "I'm certain whatever they took wasn't this. Otherwise, there's no way they'd be so enthusiastic about it."
The little witches seated around them all nodded in agreement.
Yes—witches. Every single one of them.
Not that Ark had meant to sit among the girls; Padma had waved him over the moment he entered, and before he knew it, he was surrounded.
Now, several boys across the room were glaring daggers at him, their expressions dark with jealousy.
"It really is dull," Ark muttered, casting a glance at the dais. Quirrell hadn't once looked up from his book—just kept stammering through the text, oblivious to whatever his students were doing. Ark sighed and shook his head. "The textbook lists plenty of spells for repelling dark creatures, but reading straight from it like this? We'll never actually learn how to use them."
He was disappointed, though not exactly surprised.
Ark knew the real reason Quirrell was like this—but still, Defence Against the Dark Arts was supposed to be the one class that offered real combat experience. He'd looked forward to it, wanted to sharpen his battle instincts.
But with a professor like this? What could anyone possibly learn?
Practice spells from the book? He already knew those.
What he needed now wasn't more spells—it was a chance to fight.
In terms of magical theory and spell knowledge, Ark was far ahead of most students his age. But without experience, all that knowledge meant little.
And with Quirrell in charge, "experience" clearly wasn't on the curriculum.
"Why is he like this?" Padma whispered, puzzled. "I heard Professor Quirrell's a Ravenclaw alumnus—famous for his brilliance. They say his theoretical knowledge is top-notch. That's why he was hired in the first place…"
That hardly matched the man trembling in front of them. There had to be more to the story.
"The Professor already told us, didn't he?" Ark replied casually, not taking his eyes off his desk. "He said he was cursed by dark creatures."
Padma leaned closer, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Or maybe it's not a curse from dark creatures—but the curse of the Defence Against the Dark Arts class itself."
She spoke with the excitement of someone sharing a forbidden secret. "They say a powerful Dark wizard cursed the position long ago. Every Professor who teaches this subject can't last more than a year before something bad happens."
Clearly, that rumor had made the rounds among upper years—and it wasn't just a story. The position was cursed. Every year, the Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts suffered some sort of disaster, forcing them to leave before the year's end.
It had been like that for nearly fifty years.
"I'm serious," Padma insisted when Ark didn't respond. "A lot of older students swear it's true—it's not just gossip."
"I believe you," Ark said with a small smile. He did believe her. In fact, he knew exactly who had cast that curse—Lord Voldemort, who'd once wanted to teach the class himself but had been turned away by Dumbledore.
And now, the one carrying that curse forward was sitting right in front of them.
"With Quirrell teaching," Ark murmured, "we can forget about learning anything useful this year."
He sighed quietly. He'd need to find another way to train his combat skills—otherwise, he'd end up as nothing more than a young wizard who could cast spells but not use them.
While Ark mulled over his options, the dreary lesson finally came to an end.
Ravenclaw and Slytherin students filed out, complaining to each other as they went, before splitting off toward their next classes.
For the Ravenclaw first-years, that was Charms, held jointly with Gryffindor.
Ark had already promised Hermione Granger they'd sit together, so instead of entering immediately, he waited by the doorway until he spotted her.
"Ark!"
Hermione's face lit up when she saw him—then faltered the moment she noticed Padma beside him, along with the cluster of girls trailing behind.
Her expression stiffened instantly.
====
🔹 Read 20 chapters ahead! → patreon.com/NiaXD