The doors on the far side of the Great Hall swung open, and in strutted Lockhart, decked out in his garish purple robe, looking like a flamboyant peacock. Trailing behind him were two figures—one tall, one short: Professor Snape, draped in his usual black robes, and Professor Flitwick.
"Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Hear me? Excellent!" Lockhart bellowed, though as a wizard, he could've easily used a Sonorus charm to amplify his voice.
"I believe everyone should learn how to duel, just in case you ever need to defend yourselves. Of course, I've protected myself countless times in all sorts of ways—you can learn from my example. If you want the full details, just pick up my published works!"
What followed was a long-winded spiel about his books.
Perhaps because Dragonlance Chronicles had overshadowed him, Lockhart seized every chance to shamelessly plug his novels.
To be fair, it worked to some extent. The books were decent, sure, but marketing and endorsements mattered just as much.
By the time Snape was visibly annoyed, Lockhart finally moved on. "Today's first lesson will be about dueling, taught by yours truly."
Ron's face twisted like he'd just bitten into a bad Bertie Bott's bean.
Called it.
"Look at this guy. What are we supposed to learn from him?" Ron muttered.
"Ahem, let me introduce my assistants—Professor Snape and Professor Flitwick," Lockhart said, flashing a grin that showed off his dazzlingly white teeth. "Professor Snape tells me he knows a thing or two about dueling, and he's generously agreed to help me with a little demonstration before class. Don't worry, young ones—I'll return your Potions professor to you in one piece, no need to fret!"
"And then we have Professor Flitwick, who'll guide us through the duel and explain the finer points. I could do it myself, of course, but I think you all deserve a proper commentator to catch every detail. Don't let his size fool you—there's immense power in that small frame. Back in his day, Flitwick was a dueling champion, though, well, still a tad short of my level. To find out just how great I am, read my books!"
His mix of flattery, subtle jabs, and self-promotion left both professors' faces as dark as the bottom of a cauldron.
Dudley noticed Snape grip his wand several times, only to lower it reluctantly. Even the mild-mannered Flitwick clutched his wand tightly. But Lockhart, oblivious as ever, carried on like he hadn't just insulted two powerful wizards.
Is he clueless, or is this deliberate cluelessness?
Lockhart and Snape stepped onto the gilded platform, turned to face each other, and bowed—a standard courtesy before a wizard duel. Flitwick took the moment to briefly explain the basic etiquette of dueling.
Lockhart, never one to stay still, waved his hands theatrically, drawing the attention of several students. Paired with his flamboyant persona, it was… somewhat charming. Dudley overheard a few young witches whispering things like "so handsome" and "charming."
Handsome? Really?
Dudley sized Lockhart up. The man barely had a few ounces of muscle on him. What was so great about that? His face was decent, at best, but only because these girls hadn't seen many real heartthrobs.
Honestly, if Snape cleaned up—washed his hair, styled it a bit—he'd outshine this peacock with his brooding vibe alone.
What a shame.
Both wizards raised their wands like arrows to their chests.
Just as Flitwick was about to continue his explanation, Lockhart cut in. "As you can see, this is the standard dueling stance."
He proceeded to show off a series of flashy moves. "There's also this, this, and this. All techniques I picked up on my travels. Perhaps one day I'll write a book, My History of Dueling. Be sure to grab a copy when it's out!"
It was clear he'd put some effort into this Dueling Club—probably to hawk his next book.
"When I count to three, Professor Snape and I will cast our first spells. Don't worry, neither of us will go for the kill," Lockhart said.
"I believe I should do the counting, Professor Lockhart," Flitwick interrupted stiffly.
If you can handle it yourself, why drag me into this?
"Oh, my memory!" Lockhart said with an apologetic flourish.
"One."
"Two."
"Three."
At Flitwick's "three," both wizards snapped their wands over their shoulders.
"Expelliarmus!" Snape's cold voice echoed through the hall.
A brilliant red flash shot out, and Lockhart's wand flew from his hand. He sailed off the platform, crashing into the wall and sliding down to the floor, curled up like a boiled shrimp.
No surprises there. The fight was over in an instant.
But that fast? He didn't even last one spell.
The students gaped, especially Lockhart's supporters, who looked utterly shocked. Sure, Snape was powerful, but this quick?
"What kind of professor gets taken out like that?" Ron muttered, at a loss for words.
At least put up a fight for a round or two! What were they supposed to learn from an instant knockout?
How to get flattened? Or how to lie on the floor more comfortably?
"Poor guy. Snape doesn't hold back," Neville said, unusually vocal. "That's gotta hurt."
It did hurt. Lockhart felt like his body was falling apart. Lucky for him, Snape had used Expelliarmus instead of something like Diffindo, or he'd be in pieces.
Struggling to his feet, Lockhart leaned against the wall, his wavy hair now a frazzled mess. "See that, everyone?" he said, quickly spinning the situation with a forced grin. "That's the power of the Disarming Charm! Professor Snape 'defeated' me."
"His intent was obvious. If I'd wanted to stop him, I had over a hundred ways to do it without breaking a sweat."
He played it off like he'd let Snape win on purpose.
In a way, that level of shamelessness was almost impressive.
But only someone lovesick would buy that flimsy excuse.
Noticing Snape's face darken further, Lockhart hurriedly added, "That concludes the professor-to-professor demonstration! Let's switch things up."
Desperately searching for a new target, his gaze landed on Dudley—then quickly moved away.
Someone well-known but not too strong. Preferably riding someone else's fame.
His eyes settled on a student. "Mr. Longbottom, please come up and demonstrate with me."