Chaos.
That was the only word Draco could use to describe the situation unfolding before him.
The reason he remained so calm was simple—those Cornish Pixies hadn't dared to fly anywhere near him. Maybe it was pure instinct?
To them, Draco, who hadn't even lifted a wand, was like a slumbering dragon.
And as for the person who caused this chaos? He clearly had no idea how to fix it.
Indeed, Lockhart had tried to regain control after releasing the pixies. But after he dramatically waved his wand and shouted some nonsense—only for nothing to happen and his wand to get snatched away—even Draco, usually composed, couldn't help but twitch his lips and repeat the so-called incantation with a frown of doubt...
"Pisk Pix Pistetnomi?"
What on earth was that?
Maybe no one else noticed, but Draco seriously doubted that was even a real spell. He hadn't felt the slightest magical fluctuation, and sure enough, it had no effect at all.
With Lockhart incapable of stopping the pixies, the young wizards under attack had no choice but to fend for themselves.
But even though they were now second-years, they'd had virtually no training in combat magic. Last year's classes focused mostly on theory and basic utility spells.
And their previous Defense Against the Dark Arts professor? Quirrell—missing in action, stuttering, and clearly never there to teach in the first place.
It wasn't hard to imagine just how helpless the students felt facing off against these chaotic pixies...
...
Still, amid the pandemonium, not everything was going wrong.
Bang!
"Those two gorillas... look like they're enjoying themselves."
"Let them have their fun."
As the sound of heavy thuds echoed through the room, Pansy jabbed Draco's arm, her face lined with exasperation. Honestly, she had zero appreciation for this kind of brute-force spectacle.
But it was true—though Goyle and the others didn't know a single spell, they were doing far better than the panicked Gryffindors, who were either screaming or fleeing. At least Goyle and Crabbe weren't getting tossed around.
"By the way, was that your Draught of Perception, Draco? Feels like kind of a waste."
"It's fine. Potions are meant to be used—and the ingredients aren't that rare."
In truth, the only reason Goyle and the others could knock pixies out with a single punch was thanks to the boost from Draco's Draught of Perception. Without it, they wouldn't have landed a single hit on those nimble, flying troublemakers.
Still, don't let Draco's nonchalance fool you. And just because Goyle and Crabbe were chugging the stuff like water didn't mean it was cheap or easy to make. Crafting a potion that enhanced a wizard's senses—even temporarily—was no simple task.
If measured in gold, the cost of a single bottle of Perception Potion could rival ten brand-new Nimbus 2000s.
And this moment marked the first time Draco's extraordinary potion talent was put on full display. Maybe there really was a reason Snape had chosen to be his godfather...
As for the Gryffindor side, their defense against the pixies was all but crumbling. But perhaps that made it even easier to spot where the real strength lay.
Amid the escalating chaos, only Hermione stepped forward, gripping her wand and taking command of the battlefield...
"Oh—that must've been a Freezing Charm, right?"
The moment Hermione knocked down the pixie that had been yanking on Ron's ear, Draco, who had been calmly observing everything, instantly recognized the spell.
"Freezing Charm... If I'm not mistaken, that's part of the second-year syllabus. Didn't expect her to master it so early."
The precision and fluidity of her casting made Draco's eyes light up in admiration as he watched her cut through the chaos.
He didn't notice, however, that his tone of praise had made Pansy puff up her cheeks in protest.
"It's just a Freezing Charm!"
Not wanting to let Hermione hog all the glory, Pansy—who had only planned to quietly sit beside Draco and look pretty—now pulled out her wand and fired off the same charm...
Freezing Charm.
As the name implies, its effect is to freeze everything along a straight line.
You could clearly see the icy trails left on the floor in front of both Hermione and Pansy, the lingering frost in the air hinting at the frightening chill behind the spell.
The moment Hermione noticed Pansy casting the same spell, it was as if some unspoken understanding passed between them. Both girls accelerated their attacks in sync, leaving the rest of the young wizards staring in stunned silence, quietly lowering their wands—there was simply no need for them to step in anymore.
However, as Hermione shoved the last pixie back into the large cage, she didn't notice that something seemed off about Ron Weasley—the same Ron she had saved just moments before.
While Ron hadn't performed the worst out of all the students, he looked painfully average when compared to Draco's unbothered composure, Goyle's brute force, and the relentless efficiency of Pansy and Hermione.
Being rescued by Hermione only made it worse for Ron, whose pride bordered on the pathological.
Maybe it was the way Hermione hadn't said a word afterward, her attitude seeming completely indifferent, that cut deepest for someone as sensitive and insecure as Ron...
"All of them... think I'm worthless... If that's how it is..."
Clutching his wand, now snapped in two by the pixies, he seemed to come to some kind of decision. A shadow passed through his eyes...