Within less than a month of the term starting, Umbridge had been hospitalised at St Mungo's twice.
No one knew how many records Umbridge had broken this time, but she'd once again become the hottest topic among students.
Those young wizards who'd witnessed yesterday's incident became extremely popular, surrounded wherever they went by people wanting to hear the full story.
After several artistic embellishments, the tale had transformed into Umbridge eating many of the giant squid's offspring and subsequently being hunted down for revenge.
Seeing squid tentacles on their plates, most students became too afraid to eat them, terrified of suffering the same fate.
Wayne, however, ate with relish—the tentacles were wonderfully chewy. Noticing Toby and Norman's reluctance, he and Hannah divided all ten plates between themselves.
In truth, this might have been beneficial for Umbridge.
With everyone's attention focused on her and the squid's dramatic encounter, they'd completely forgotten that Crouch and others had come to take her away yesterday.
At the Gryffindor table, Harry was the most delighted.
Upon hearing that Umbridge was hospitalised, he happily shared the sweets Sirius had just sent him with everyone.
Even those classmates who'd previously avoided him became much friendlier under this snack offensive—an unexpected bonus.
The Potter heir suddenly had an epiphany—was this the power of money?
If one didn't have enough friends, perhaps it was because they weren't strong or generous enough.
Harry's approach to relationships began subtly changing.
That evening, he asked the twins to buy loads of non-alcoholic drinks from the Three Broomsticks to share with students.
Instantly, Harry became Gryffindor's most popular figure again.
Hermione, returning late from the library, frowned at the noisy common room but said nothing.
It was still early in the term—some relaxation was understandable. Organising everyone now would just kill the mood.
She approached Harry. "Harry, Wayne asked me to tell you he'll meet you at the usual place at seven on Thursday."
"Got it," Harry replied, currently playing Exploding Snap with Colin.
Having missed last weekend's tutoring session due to hospitalisation, Wayne's rescheduling wasn't surprising.
Hearing his response, Hermione hugged her books and disappeared into the dormitory.
...
The next day, Dumbledore's temporary Defence Against the Dark Arts professor finally arrived.
During breakfast, under the astonished gazes of numerous Weasleys and Wayne, Dumbledore cheerfully announced:
"Many thanks to Mrs Molly Weasley for stepping forward during this difficult time to temporarily replace Professor Umbridge as Defence Against the Dark Arts professor."
The Great Hall erupted in hesitant applause.
The young wizards watched Molly waving cheerfully at her children.
They couldn't reconcile this middle-aged, homemaker-looking woman with the concept of a professor.
George and Fred were stunned, staring at each other wide-eyed.
"Fred, not only are my eyes hallucinating, but my ears have gone bad, too."
"George, same here. I'm actually seeing Mum, and Dumbledore says she's going to be a professor."
Simultaneously pulling faces more miserable than tears, they chorused: "We're screwed!"
Pfft!
Nearby, Angelina, Lee Jordan, and others couldn't help but laugh at their antics.
Noticing this scene, Molly shot the twins an awkward glare, making them immediately behave while inwardly sighing in despair.
For the next month, they'd have to keep their heads down.
Wayne had considered many candidates, but he'd never imagined that Mrs Weasley would be Umbridge's replacement.
Dumbledore's choices... remained as unconventional as ever.
Even inviting Lupin and Sirius back to teach would've been better—why on earth choose Molly?
Wasn't he worried the Order members would starve without her at Grimmauld Place?
Turns out, he'd guessed right.
At dinner, Molly didn't stay at the school but returned to London via the Headmaster's Office fireplace to cook.
Working two jobs, one unpaid—how exhausting...
...
The next day, Wayne finally attended Molly's class.
The Slytherin students had initially looked down on a housewife like her, but seeing Wayne greet her familiarly, they immediately straightened up, sitting rigidly.
"Don't be so nervous, children." Molly smiled gently. "I'm just a substitute. Once Umbridge returns, I'll leave—no need to treat me as a real professor."
When mentioning Umbridge, she didn't bother hiding her disgust.
Noticing the textbooks on their desks, she chuckled. "Put those away. I'm no good with theory—just some practical little spells."
Instantly, their opinion of her rose several notches.
"I'm a housewife, not well-versed in intricate charms."
Drawing her wand, Molly flicked it casually—a teacup and pot of hot tea appeared before each student.
The teapot floated on its own, pouring for them.
This simple display made the young wizards' eyes light up.
Ordinary summoning and filling charms—many could manage those easily.
But flawlessly serving dozens of students simultaneously, all through nonverbal spellcasting?
That wasn't simple at all.
"Surprised?" Noticing their expressions, Molly smiled proudly. "I'm a mother of seven. My main job is feeding them and keeping house."
"Spells like these? During term it's manageable, but come summer holidays—dozens, even hundreds of times daily."
Soft laughter rippled through the class—clearly, many recalled their own holiday laziness.
Molly didn't scold them, chatting amiably. "Every spell's different, yet fundamentally similar. Practice makes perfect."
"Ask me to cast a Blasting Curse or Patronus Charm? I'd struggle—hardly use those, unlike household spells."
"But household spells can't protect you," Susan interjected, emboldened by Molly's approachability.
"Quite the opposite." Molly shook her head seriously. "Master them thoroughly, and even household spells become formidable in battle."
"In typical wizard duels, the power of spells isn't the decisive factor. Rather, your casting speed and proficiency are far more crucial."
"Let me demonstrate."
With that, Molly stood up as three empty chairs flew over from the back of the classroom.
"In my view, your enemies are like stubborn stains during housework—they require considerable effort to remove. So... we do this."
Three spells, three red beams. Upon contact, the chairs instantly exploded into puffs of smoke, vanishing completely without leaving even a speck behind.
Gulp!
The young wizards collectively swallowed hard—even Wayne was no exception.
Molly smiled sheepishly. "See? All cleaned up now."
The room fell utterly silent.
Just as Molly began feeling awkward, Wayne started clapping, prompting everyone else to snap out of their daze and follow suit.
"Brilliant! I've never seen such an exaggerated Cleaning Charm before."
"Absolutely mental—it's more destructive than a Reductor Curse!"
"Masterful, truly masterful!"
Everyone was thoroughly impressed by Molly's display. With that kind of power, who could deny this was Defence Against the Dark Arts?
Defence until not even ashes remain!
Molly finally relaxed, her earlier tension easing.
She wrote the Cleaning Charm's incantation on the blackboard, adding some personal insights before letting students practise freely using teacups and teapots as props.
Although Molly's teaching method was blunt, lacking systematic theory or advanced techniques, it consisted only of repetitive practice—everyone agreed that this was proper professional instruction.
Isn't constant practice how one masters spells?
Did anyone really believe, like Umbridge, that pure theoretical teaching could produce competent spellwork?
By lesson's end, under Molly's guidance, everyone had made noticeable progress with the Cleaning Charm.
Many girls lingered after class, crowding around Molly to ask about other household spells.
"Professor Weasley, do you know any spells to make food taste better?"
"Professor, my Dehumidifying Charm never works properly—clothes still need air-drying. Any tips?"
"Me too! How do I make brooms obey and clean automatically?"
The lesson had instantly transformed into a housewives' symposium, leaving Wayne utterly astonished.
...
At seven that evening, Wayne met Harry at their usual spot.
"Wayne, I've pretty much mastered the Reductor Curse. Watch." Harry promptly reduced a chair to splinters.
"Not good enough. Keep practising." Wayne shook his head. "Mrs Weasley's Cleaning Charm outperforms yours."
Harry scratched his head sheepishly. "Mrs Weasley is truly impressive. I'll keep working at it."
He'd heard about what happened in the Hufflepuff class and finally understood how formidable Mrs Weasley was.
Truly, the only fool in that family was Ron.
"Set the Reductor Curse aside for now," Wayne said. "This session, I'll teach you a new magic."
"What?" Harry brightened.
"Occlumency."
"Occlumency?" Harry's brow furrowed slowly. "The spell to prevent Legilimency attacks? Why would I need that?"
The current Harry wasn't the same fool as before. Before Snape taught him, he hadn't even known what Occlumency was. He'd just found it odd—why learn such an obscure spell that wouldn't help him grow stronger?
"This is Dumbledore's request," Wayne chose to be honest. "Invading Voldemort's mind is extremely dangerous and uncontrollable. If he discovers it... he might invade your mind just as you do his."
"So you must learn Occlumency, and master it thoroughly."
Seeing how serious Wayne was, Harry's expression turned grave. "I understand. I'll learn it."
"That was Dumbledore's requirement. What follows is my own request." Wayne looked at him. "Of course, you can refuse."
"Oh?" Harry grew curious. Wayne had never made requests of him before.
"I hope you'll not only learn Occlumency, but also the Legilimency Spell."
Seeing Harry's puzzled look, Wayne explained: "Dumbledore thinks invading Voldemort's thoughts is dangerous, and I agree. But I also see it as an opportunity."
"Mastering Legilimency will let you last longer in his dreams next time, even delving into deeper memories to uncover Voldemort's secrets."
"Right now, Voldemort moves mysteriously and holds two trump cards. I want you to locate where he's hidden them."
"Can you tell me what they are?" Harry asked quietly. "Maybe I already know?"
"No, you don't." Wayne shook his head. "After tonight, I'll seal this memory to prevent Voldemort from detecting it. Can you accept that?"
Seeing Wayne's solemn expression and understanding the gravity of the situation, Harry readily agreed.
"Good." Wayne took out his suitcase and released the Wampus Cat.
"Then let's... begin."