Lockhart's sudden appearance might have been ignorance of the strange tension in the air—or maybe he truly believed that, as a professor, his presence alone could calm the situation. Wearing his signature dazzling smile, he strode right between the two opposing groups.
Tipping his wizard's hat with one hand and throwing in a flurry of theatrical gestures, he left the younger students watching with twitching lips.
To most, it looked like Lockhart was simply doing his job as a teacher. But in Draco's eyes, it was anything but that...
"If I'm not mistaken, this isn't the first time something like this has happened."
Draco had already lowered his wand and made no move to act. Instead, a sudden curiosity struck him—he wanted to see what Lockhart was really here for.
Because of Draco's silence, none of the Slytherins behind him stepped in either. Though they looked puzzled, no one questioned his decision. Only Pansy glanced at Draco in confusion—this wasn't the domineering Draco Malfoy she knew.
On the other side, the Gryffindors visibly relaxed at the sight of Lockhart. The pressure they'd felt under the sharp glares of the Slytherins had been suffocating...
Yet Lockhart strolled on as if completely oblivious to the awkward tension, focusing instead on his favorite photography companion.
"Oh? Harry, what's the matter? Oh dear, are you hurt? Let me take a look."
"Uh... Professor, Harry just has a bit of a headache."
"Ah, Miss Granger, right? Don't worry, leave it to me—I have loads of experience with this kind of thing."
"..."
It was Lockhart's over-the-top concern that finally reminded everyone Harry Potter was even there.
His face was pale, worryingly so—anyone watching might have assumed he'd been the one hit by a jinx earlier.
As Hermione explained, Lockhart had already parted the crowd and made his way to Harry. And whether it was a coincidence or not, the Gryffindors standing nearby all instinctively took a step back.
Oddly enough, this was one of the rare times Lockhart didn't bring up his books or his achievements. He actually looked like a teacher showing proper concern for a student—but still...
"Don't worry, Harry, I can fix this in no time. Just a simple little spell—I've done it hundreds of times."
With that, Lockhart pulled out his wand, grinning brightly, completely ignoring the growing panic on Harry's face.
Harry Potter wasn't a fan of Lockhart. He wasn't one of those brainless admirers. In fact, he couldn't feel even a trace of the trust or safety one should feel around a professor.
Especially when, just before casting the spell, Lockhart began to introduce his wand like a showpiece...
"Nine inches long, cherry wood with a dragon heartstring core. This was my very first wand as a wizard—and of course, it's still my only one. Isn't it beautiful?"
"Uh... I'm not really sure, but Professor Lockhart, I think I can just go to the infirmary, so you really don't nee—"
"No need to be nervous, Harry. It'll only take a second—you won't feel a thing."
"No! Wait!"
Just thinking about Lockhart's brilliant performance in Defense Against the Dark Arts sent Harry into a full-blown panic. He looked desperately toward Hermione for help, suddenly feeling like even his lightning scar didn't hurt anymore.
But Lockhart didn't seem to hear him—or chose not to notice—and was already pointing his wand at the top of Harry's head.
That finally snapped Hermione out of her daze. She rushed forward to try to stop him.
"Pro—"
"Piskie Pester-no! Piskie Pester-no!"
But it was too late.
And Draco made no move to intervene...
...
Harry's injury wasn't external, nor was it something like Sectumsempra that could be healed with a counter-curse.
Given that, Draco honestly had no idea what spell Lockhart thought he could use to help Harry Potter.
Compared to potions, charms weren't exactly a wizard's go-to method for treatment.
More importantly, the incantation Lockhart used wasn't one Draco recognized as any kind of real spell.
And yet... he had definitely heard it somewhere before...
"Harry!"
"Ah—yes, yes, this sort of thing can happen occasionally! But the important thing is that Harry doesn't feel any pain now, so Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, you can take him to the infirmary. I'm sure Trelawney will take good care of him."
"....."
"....."
Just as Lockhart said—Harry wasn't in pain.
Because he had completely lost consciousness.
The young witches and wizards standing nearby took another step back as Lockhart straightened up, while Harry lay motionless on the ground. Hermione, checking over him, looked visibly appalled.
Pansy frowned and leaned in toward Draco.
"Draco…"
"A clever solution."
Draco cut her off, already knowing what she wanted to say. He narrowed his eyes, flicking his gaze between Lockhart and Ron Weasley.
With their Seeker out cold, Gryffindor had no way to train. That, at least, solved the issue of who had claim to the Quidditch pitch. And judging by Oliver Wood's reaction, he had no intention of sticking around—Seekers were too valuable to risk.
Which, conveniently, gave the culprit an opportunity to slip away.
If Draco hadn't been here...
"Stupefy."
It was wandless, just like the earlier jinx—but this time, even more discreet and so fast no one could react. Realistically, no one present could've stopped it.
And the target was none other than Ron Weasley—who had assumed he was in the clear and now stood frozen in shock as the spell hit him.
"Ron!"
"Draco Malfoy!!"
Bang!
Swish! Swish! Swish!
Wands were out again in an instant, and the heavy tension that Lockhart had momentarily disrupted snapped right back into place.
Draco, unfazed by the furious Weasley twins in front of him, casually wiggled his fingers.
"I believe I already gave a warning."
That cold, overbearing tone and posture made Pansy's heart race. This was the Draco she knew.
Without ever pulling out his wand, Draco calmly lowered the hand that had just cast the spell. The faint ripple in the air around his fingers was still visible—a lingering trace of magical energy.
And that scene, combined with his words, made the Gryffindors furious—and deeply unsettled...