HP: Professor From Azkaban

Actions often speak louder than words. Repeating 'You are the worst class I've ever taught' ten times would only provoke resentment from the students, but defeating them with a single exam was more than enough.

"I understand that the reason for your weak foundation isn't entirely your fault. I've looked into the past teaching records. About one-third of your lessons were without a professor's guidance, leaving you to self-study. On top of that, your textbooks were switched around haphazardly, lacking any clear structure. This isn't your fault."

"But—" William emphasized his tone, "no matter what excuse there is, the Wizarding Examinations Authority won't hand out an 'Acceptable' grade on your report card because of it."

"Falling behind in grades isn't scary. Fortunately, we have a full year to make up for the gaps. As your professor, I'll do my utmost during this academic year to help you build a solid foundation so that today's scene won't repeat itself in the O.W.L.s."

"In order to have enough time to cover the missed material, we'll have to accelerate the pace of our lessons. To be honest, this exceeds my original plan, but given the circumstances, I must make some adjustments."

"Now, everyone, open your textbooks to the first page. Fold your exam papers neatly, and I'll come around to collect them."

As he spoke, William stepped down from the podium and began gathering the exam papers.

He still had to administer the exam for Slytherin and Gryffindor in the afternoon. Missing a few questions wouldn't affect the grades, but if the test papers got leaked, he'd have to use the backup exams; which were originally reserved to humble their arrogance during midterms.

"If you've been following my earlier instructions, you should all have read the first twenty pages of your textbook by now. Let's begin our first lesson."

***

"Ring!!!!!!"

The bell signaling the end of class rang. William, who was still enthusiastically explaining the material, glanced out the window and then smiled warmly at the students.

"I was rushing a bit, but at least we managed to finish the new teaching plan. Since the pace was faster than usual, I hope all of you will go over the material we covered twice more after class. Also, please preview Chapters Two and Three in your textbook. There's no written homework for this lesson, but I expect everyone to take the review and preparation tasks seriously."

"Class dismissed."

In truth, he already had a massive worksheet prepared, but unfortunately, it wasn't the right time to distribute it.

William walked out of the classroom with a hint of regret. As he shut the door behind him, he distinctly heard many students exhaling deeply, as if they had been holding their breath the entire lesson.

"That was terrifying. I felt like I couldn't even breathe."

"Professor kept smiling the whole time, but I couldn't find a single reason to smile."

"Alright, you lot with nerves of steel, could you calm down for a moment?"

The loudest students immediately quieted down after receiving sharp glares from the prefects in the classroom. They dared not utter another word.

For the first time, the students didn't rush out of the classroom after the bell rang. Instead, they sat in their seats, unsure of what to do next.

The students of the two houses looked expectantly at their prefects, hoping they would say something to break the tense atmosphere. However, the two fifth-year prefects from Ravenclaw were both staring at their textbooks, lost in thought. Only Hufflepuff's prefect boy maintained some semblance of normalcy.

Though they had heard countless warnings from upperclassmen and professors about the terrifying O.W.L.s, the abstract concept of pressure had never felt as real as it did now, pressing down on all of them like a tangible weight.

Ravenclaw students had always prided themselves on their higher average grades compared to other houses. Yet, this time, the O.W.L.-level questions had left nearly all of them stunned and clueless.

For students still aspiring to academic excellence, nothing was more fear-inducing than being confronted by a series of questions they couldn't answer; especially knowing they would face them again in a year's time.

After a long silence, the Hufflepuff prefect boy finally stood up.

"Alright, the next class is about to start. We shouldn't just sit around here. The Professor is right; if there are gaps in our knowledge, we need to fill them. Do you really think avoiding the problem will help you pass the O.W.L.s?"

"Come on, let's go. The next class is Transfiguration, and our professor is Professor McGonagall. Do you want to be late?"

The fear of Professor McGonagall clearly outweighed their anxiety over failing their exams in a year. Slowly but surely, the despondent students began to pack up their things and leave the classroom.

***

"What are you all thinking?"

"If you don't study seriously, practice diligently, and apply what you've learned, you will not pass the O.W.L.s."

Professor McGonagall's stern voice cut through the classroom as she addressed the visibly lethargic students.

"You're in fifth year. I'm sure more than one professor has emphasized the importance of the O.W.L. exams! So why are you all sitting here in a daze? Let me guess; was your last class..." She hesitated, lowering her voice. "Was it Divination again? You're fifth years now, not third years who've just started dabbling in Divination!"

"Did Professor Trelawney predict someone's death again?" Her tone carried a clear edge of frustration.

"It wasn't Professor Trelawney; it was Professor William," a student answered hesitantly.

"Professor William?" McGonagall's surprise was evident in her voice.

"But his class has nothing to do with Divination. Did he punish you?"

Although the Defense Against the Dark Arts class had undergone a name change, it still heavily involved magical combat. If something overly intense had occurred during a duel, it wasn't entirely out of the realm of possibility.

"Not at all, Professor. Professor William prepared a test for us, and it was full of O.W.L.-level questions. We all failed," the student said.

"All of you?"

"Yes, Professor. Only three students managed to score a P, and the rest did even worse."

"I'll discuss this matter with Professor William," McGonagall replied, her tone calm but firm. "I'm sure Professor William is far more invested in your grades than you might think. However, right now, children, you should be focusing on the content of this class. Today's lesson covers one of the most challenging spells likely to appear in the O.W.L.s. If you continue to dwell on an already-concluded test, I suspect many of you will earn even more Ps."

Her words snapped the students' attention back to the present. Dwelling on their earlier failure wouldn't help; it might only lead to another round of incomplete and incorrect answers on future exams.

But midway through the class, the lesson ground to a halt.

The focus of the session was the Vanishing Spell, widely acknowledged as one of the most challenging topics in Transfiguration; even for seventh-years, it was notoriously difficult to master.

Despite nearly an hour of collective effort, the class couldn't even manage to slightly fade the shells of the snails they were practicing on.

Finally, the top-performing girl in the class; someone who had always excelled, stopped casting altogether, her eyes reddening with frustration. She clung to her best friend and burst into tears.

It seemed to trigger a chain reaction. Several other girls' eyes welled up, and quiet sobs echoed through the classroom.

For the first time, Professor McGonagall's usually orderly class descended into utter chaos.

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