The Pixie Problem.
Shrieks and yells filled the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom as the Cornish pixies ran wild. Books soared through the air, ink splattered across desks, and someone’s bag was dangling from the chandelier.
Neville had somehow ended up hanging from a coat hook by the back of his robes, flailing helplessly. Dean was trying to swat a pixie off Seamus’s head, while Ron ducked under a desk, swearing as a particularly aggressive one yanked at his hair.
Hermione, her patience wearing thin, pulled out her wand. "We have to stop them!"
"What do you think I’m trying to do?" Ron snapped, waving his wand at a group of pixies. "Immobulus!"
The spell fizzled out weakly, having no effect. The pixies shrieked in amusement, one grabbing Ron’s wand and tossing it across the room.
"Brilliant," Ron muttered.
Hermione flicked her wand. "Petrificus Totalus!"
A single pixie froze mid-air and dropped to the ground with a tiny thud. But the rest only seemed angrier, chattering wildly as they swooped toward her.
Before they could reach Hermione, the air in the room shifted. A creeping coldness slithered through the chaos, so subtle at first that no one noticed—except the pixies.
The moment Harry took a step forward, the creatures froze.
Their high-pitched giggles and shrieks cut off into eerie silence. Tiny blue bodies stiffened in mid-flight, their wings fluttering uncertainly. The classroom, which had been a whirlwind of movement and noise just moments ago, suddenly felt still.
Then, as one, the pixies turned their oversized yellow eyes to him.
And they trembled.
A few let out high, keening sounds before darting away, cramming themselves into corners, behind bookshelves, anywhere to escape his gaze. Others cowered midair, hovering uncertainly as if unsure whether to flee or drop to the ground.
Ron blinked. "What—"
Before he could finish, one of the braver pixies let out a sharp screech and made a break for the window, its tiny hands scrabbling desperately at the glass. The rest immediately followed, swarming toward the exit in a panicked frenzy.
"Blimey," Seamus muttered. "What did you do?"
"I—" Harry hesitated, eyes flicking to the shivering pixies. He hadn’t done anything. He hadn’t even raised his wand.
But they were terrified of him.
Hermione’s brow furrowed, her gaze flicking between him and the cowering creatures. She opened her mouth to say something—then seemed to think better of it.
"Well," she said briskly instead, "we should, um… probably let them out before they break something else."
With a quick wave of her wand, the window flung open.
The pixies didn’t hesitate.
They bolted, flinging themselves outside as if running from death itself.
As soon as the last one vanished into the sky, an uneasy silence settled over the room.
Ron stared at Harry. "Alright. That was weird."
"Agreed," Dean said.
Harry swallowed, suddenly feeling far too exposed. He busied himself picking up a toppled ink bottle. "Maybe they just didn’t like me."
Ron snorted. "That’s the understatement of the century."
Neville, still hanging from his coat hook, gave a small whimper. "Um… can someone get me down?"