𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐬 | 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐨 𝐞𝐫𝐚

Chapter 88. Seventh Year Eleven ☾

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"Welcome, everyone, to DADA," Remus began, smiling softly. This is what he loved, what brought him true joy: teaching. "I know you have not had the most stable teaching experience thus far, and while it is probably too late for you seventh years, I would appreciate not being run off by a curse in order that the first through fourth years may have a stable education."

Ernie MacMillian raised his hand. "What about fifth and sixth years?"

"It's too late for them."

The boy shrugged. That made sense.

"Now, I know how you have treated several of your professors in the past few years, but I have been told you are uniquely qualified to explain that..." He pointed to the Dora-free poster. "To me."

"The boys started an autonomous zone," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "They want to leave that there in memorial to-how did they put it-symbolize their hard won freedom from tyranny?"

"She made us stand in the corner," Draco said, scowling.

"Because you were acting like Siria when she doesn't get her nap."

Remus shook his head. "That is neither here nor there. It appears that with lack of consistency, you all have not learned one crucial part of defense."

"What is that, Professor?" Lavender asked, the corners of her lips dropping.

"Miss Brown, I am glad you asked. The answer is simple: discipline."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Why in Merlin's name do we need to know discipline in defense?"

"Mr. Weasley, do you know what happens when you lose control of your emotions?" The boy shook his head. His professor continued. "You no longer are able to think straight. It weakens your ability to make wise decisions."

Finnegan snorted. "So?"

"So, if you are not clear-headed, but your opponent is, you will end up at a disadvantage."

"What does all this mean?" Harry asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"I have been given permission by the headmaster to instate boot camp."

"Like the muggle military?" Hermione asked, mouth dropping.

"Do wizards have a military?" Dean asked, quirking a brow.

"Can I be excused for religious reasons?" Pansy asked, frowning.

Remus sighed. "Yes, Miss Granger, just like a muggle military. No, Mr. Thomas, we do not have a wizarding equivalent. Sadly, we are just not organized enough. And Miss Parkinson, not wanting to get your nails dirty does not count as a religion."

"It is if you know how much I paid for these nails."

"We shall begin with basic training," the lycanthrope continued, ignoring the Slytherin. "Come outside with me."

"Uhm, sir, I hate to be a Negative Nancy, but it is minus five degrees celsius outside," Neville said as he followed his professor out the door.

"Perfect. Miss Parkinson will not have to worry about breaking a sweat."

"But, sir, doesn't this count as child abuse?"

"Considering all of you reached your majority at this point?" Remus shook his head. "No, it does not." He stopped, clearing a section of snow so that they could see the pitch. "We shall start with basic physical testing. You have twelve minutes to run around this pitch as many times as you can. You will report to me how many times you made it. I will know if you lie."

The seventh years glanced at one another, all with the same question in mind: He couldn't be serious, could he? They watched as the man took out a stopwatch and looked at them expectantly.

"Well?"

Eyes grew wide and the majority took off. Only four remained.

"Miss Parkinson, you will not lose your beautifully glowing skin due to a little exercise. If you have a complaint about the new course direction, take it up with Headmaster Snape. Mr. Crabbe, I know about your asthmatic condition. I have your potions here if you need them. Maybe a bit of exercise would help your lungs." The two Slytherins ran off, leaving Harry and Draco behind, glaring. "Mr.s Potter and Malfoy, I impress upon you the dire consequences of not following my orders."

"Now you sound like Uncle Sev," Harry complained, glaring.

"Harry James Potter, you either run around this pitch for twelve minutes or you spend the next hour doing push-ups. You choose." The boys both ran off, almost tumbling over each other trying to take the lead.

Professor Lupin smirked as he watched the students returning from their test. "Let me hear it!"

Hermione raised her hand. "Four."

"Alright. Next."

"Three," Crabbe said. He took a sip of potions as he gasped for air.

"Six," Dean added, leaning against a goal post.

Finnegan smirked. "Seven."

"Five." Ron scowled.

"Two," Pansy said, crossing her arms.

"Three," Hannah Abbott added.

"I hit six laps," Draco bragged, smiling triumphantly, "and I started after all of you."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I completed six, too."

"Alright. If you are a male and made at least six laps, you are in average health, and seven laps is considered excellent. Anything lower than six, we will need to work on your stamina. Women, you have a slightly lower threshold. If you made four laps, you are in average health. Anything lower than that is going to have to work on stamina, as well." The professor took out a whistle, blowing hard. "Now, push-ups. You have two minutes. Get started."

By the end of defense that day, everyone was ready to declare the DADA classroom a werewolf-free zone. They all slowly waddled over to their desks, glad to be in the warmth.

"Now, did everyone enjoy working with Professor Moony?" Sirius asked, smirking.

"No." The class responded unanimously.

"Well, I'm sure after thirteen weeks of daily workouts, drills, and back-to-basics training, we're all going to be more than ready to pass our NEWTS."

The class moaned.

"That's right, you little brats!" Severus hissed, glaring. "If you are not going to act like adults, we are going to force you to become adults. No more autonomous zones, no more pranks, no more ever-expanding supplies of liquor...."

"Unless given express permission by the deputy headmaster because he doesn't have the time to go shopping," Sirius added quickly.

"Professor Lupin is getting you all into shape, because one day, you will need to be able to control yourself and act like decent human beings." The headmaster crossed his arms. "If you do not like it, you may drop out. I will take your wand for snapping."

Everyone stayed exactly where they were. One hand raised slowly.

"Yes, Mr. Longbottom?"

"Does this mean no more sleepovers to improve teacher-student relations?"

"We tried coddling, and obviously that didn't work." Severus glared at the three time travelers. "Now, we're seeing if tough love will do the trick."

CHAPTER END
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