Since the autumn term of 1991 started on the first Thursday of September, the class schedule naturally followed this.
The first-year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs were lucky because their first two lessons on Thursday morning were Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Delfino.
Harry and his classmates had been excited about this all night.
After all, who wouldn't want to be taught by a powerful wizard who could stop an out-of-control train?
Moreover, listening to the discussions of some older students over the past three days, Harry had also realized one thing clearly: for a wizard, having a wand and not having one were two completely different things.
And Professor Delfino had stopped that runaway train without a wand.
On Wednesday night, before going to sleep, Harry made up his mind not to be late the next morning to avoid leaving a bad impression on the new professor.
However, reality often goes against one's wishes.
"Can you believe it, Harry? We're late on the very first day!"
Ron lamented. After wandering around the castle for an hour, the two boys finally found the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom at one minute past eight.
Panting, Harry had no time to respond to Ron's complaints. Clutching his schoolbag, he rushed into the classroom first (which was full of students, all looking at the two of them) and found a random seat with Ron.
"Where have you been?"
Neville blinked his round eyes and whispered across a girl with brown skin and pretty features.
"Is there any other possibility, Neville?"
Ron said.
"Got lost... We didn't even have time for breakfast."
"Oh, I didn't get lost."
Neville said happily, his round face beaming.
"I found the way to the Great Hall."
Harry noticed that Hermione Granger, who had shared a compartment with them on the train, just glanced at them with a scornful look, but Harry ignored her, stretching his neck to look at the podium, which was also empty.
"Where's Professor Delfino?"
"Maybe he got lost like you."
Dean, sitting in front of them, shrugged and turned his head to say sympathetically.
"That's not impossible... Wait!"
Harry breathed a sigh of relief and muttered. Then, he started turning his neck to look at the students around him, and soon discovered something amiss.
He saw not only first-years from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, but also from Slytherin and Ravenclaw...
He couldn't be mistaken—that blond boy, Draco Malfoy, was looking at him with a mocking expression. Harry happened to know he had been sorted into Slytherin—Ron had told him that was the house that produced many dark wizards.
"What's going on? Slytherin and Ravenclaw are here too."
"Didn't you know?"
Neville whispered to them across the brown-skinned girl (making her very annoyed).
"There was a notice posted in the Entrance Hall. This morning's Defense Against the Dark Arts class is for all four houses together. It's temporary, will be adjusted back next week."
"Well, we definitely didn't know—"
Ron rolled his eyes.
"Forgot, Neville? We didn't have time to go to the Great Hall for breakfast."
It was already five minutes past eight, and Professor Delfino was still nowhere to be seen. The previously quiet classroom gradually became noisy.
"Hey, Potter!"
The sallow-faced blond boy from Slytherin, Draco Malfoy, leaned over the row of Ravenclaw students, wearing an annoying smirk.
"Is your ugly scar not hurting anymore?"
Harry shot him a gloomy look.
He knew Malfoy was referring to what happened on the train... Ron had later told him what had happened during the ten minutes he was unconscious.
"What about your nose, Malfoy?"
Vaguely, a feeling arose in Harry's heart. This boy named Malfoy would have many conflicts with him in his next seven years of school life.
He glared back with a retaliatory look, not showing any weakness.
"Did Madam Pomfrey attach your nose upside down so your nostrils face the sky?"
Ron immediately clutched his stomach and laughed, while Neville looked at Harry with awe.
Draco Malfoy's grey eyes narrowed. He turned back to glance at his two chubby followers, Crabbe and Goyle, and the three boys prepared to stand up—
" Huff... Sorry, sorry—"
A hurried teacher walked through the open classroom door—Professor Delfino, to be precise.
He rushed to the podium, panted a few times, smoothed down a few strands of hair sticking up on his forehead, and said to them:
"I overslept."
Harry and Ron exchanged glances, seeing the amusement in each other's eyes.
Oversleeping wasn't much better than getting lost.
"So, um—"
Professor Delfino looked around the crowded classroom.
"I won't take roll call today—um, you must be curious why I gathered all four houses together?"
The students hesitated, nodding in disorderly movements.
"It's like this. Before I officially start teaching this course, there are some things I think I should make clear."
Professor Delfino said.
"That is, in the next seven years, I'm afraid I won't be able to teach you Defense Against the Dark Arts continuously—"
Some students didn't react much to the professor's words, but others felt confused, like Harry or Hermione.
"Some students from wizarding families probably know that the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is always full of uncertainty... In short, just like what Professor Dumbledore said at the Welcome Feast last night—encountering misfortune, dying a painful death."
Looking at some stunned faces, Ares smiled cheerfully.
"Oh, of course, if I'm lucky, I believe I'll at most suffer a bit of bad luck—but, oh, for you, I'm afraid misfortune is constant. Because you will face the reality of constantly changing Defense Against the Dark Arts professors."
"Really?"
Harry couldn't hide his surprise, asking Ron with his eyes.
"One a year, never fails."
Ron glanced sympathetically at Professor Delfino, then answered Harry's confusion with his eyes.
"Percy said so."
"Each Defense Against the Dark Arts professor has a different teaching style, uses different textbooks, has different levels of Defense Against the Dark Arts skills, and different teaching standards—"
Professor Delfino continued.
"Assuming the above situation holds true, then, in this condition, if you want to pass the wizarding exams, you must possess a quality."
"What is that, Professor Delfino?"
Ernie Macmillan from Hufflepuff raised his hand to ask. He looked a bit anxious about the future described by Professor Delfino... This wasn't strange; basically, everyone hoped to be outstanding.
"The ability to self-study."
Ares smiled and answered the question.