Chapter 41
The second-year students gathered in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, chattering amongst themselves. Harry sat near the back, arms crossed, listening to Ron groan about their new professor.
"You should’ve seen my mum," Ron muttered. "She about fainted when she saw him at Flourish and Blotts. Thinks he’s some kind of genius. Bet he’s worse than Quirrell."
Hermione, however, sat primly beside them, clutching Break with a Banshee to her chest. "He’s written seven books, Ron. He’s clearly accomplished."
Ron rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure, I bet he’s brilliant—"
The door burst open.
"Me, Gilderoy Lockhart—Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly’s Most Charming Smile Award—am here to teach you how to defend yourselves!"
A dazzling grin. A dramatic sweep of his turquoise robes. Lockhart stood before the class, gleaming like a polished statue. The girls in the front row sighed dreamily.
Harry resisted the urge to groan.
"Now!" Lockhart clapped his hands. "Pop quiz!"
There was a collective groan from most of the students, but Hermione eagerly sat forward. Lockhart handed out parchments.
Harry read the first question and barely stopped himself from throwing his quill.
"What is Gilderoy Lockhart’s favorite color?"
He skimmed the rest:
"What is Gilderoy Lockhart’s greatest achievement?"
"What is Gilderoy Lockhart’s ideal birthday gift?"
It was absolute nonsense. Harry sighed and turned to a blank corner of his parchment, idly sketching a rough shape of the chapel window in his room.
Twenty minutes later, Lockhart clapped his hands again. "Let’s see… only one person got every question right!" He beamed. "Miss Granger! Splendid work. Five points to Gryffindor."
Hermione beamed, while Ron shot her an exasperated look.
"But enough about me," Lockhart continued, waving his wand flamboyantly. "Let’s get to the real lesson! Freshly caught Cornish Pixies!"
Harry’s stomach sank.
Lockhart flung open a cage, and within seconds, chaos erupted. The tiny blue creatures zoomed around the room, cackling madly, yanking on hair, upturning inkwells, and sending books flying. One grabbed Ron’s wand and threw it across the room. Another yanked at Hermione’s hair before she batted it away.
"Now, now!" Lockhart called over the shrieking students. "Just give me a moment—"
He waved his wand dramatically. "Peskipiksi Pesternomi!"
Nothing happened.
The pixies chattered in glee before turning their full force onto Lockhart. They tugged at his sleeves, snatched his hat, and sent him running for cover beneath his desk.
"Well!" Lockhart said hastily. "I—I think that’s enough for today! Why don’t you three handle this? A test of your skill!"
Ron gawked at him. "You set them loose!"
But Lockhart had already fled to the door, slamming it shut behind him.
Harry sighed, ducking as a pixie hurled an ink bottle his way.
"Well," he muttered, flicking out his wand, "guess we’re on our own."