CH-26 "Secrets"
Harry POV*
The classroom looked more like a shrine than a place to learn.
Lockhart's portraits smiling, winking, hair glittering unnaturally under candlelight lined every inch of the walls.
A massive stack of his books stood at the front desk like some kind of self-written altar.
I slid into my seat between Ron and Hermione. Ron made a gagging noise.
Ron groaned. "Blimey, feels like we're trapped in his bathroom."
I smirked. "More like his shrine."
Hermione, though sitting straighter, looked flustered. "Honestly, you two. At least give him a chance."
Ron muttered, "I'll give him a chance when he stops kissing himself in those pictures."
Hermione elbowed him in the ribs, but her ears went pink.
Lockhart swept in, robes bluer than the sky. "Good afternoon!" he sang, striking a pose.
Ron whispered, "I think I just went deaf."
"Don't worry," I said, "he'll heal us with his smile."
Hermione tried to glare at me, but the corner of her mouth twitched.
I bit my lip to keep from laughing.
Lockhart launched into a speech. Mostly about Lockhart.
"…five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award, don't forget—though, I daresay, it's not about me, no, no—it's about what I can teach you!"
Dean muttered under his breath, "Bet we could learn more from a grindylow."
"Shhh," Hermione hissed.
I glanced at her. "Come on, even you can't deny he's laying it on thick."
She pursed her lips. "He's… enthusiastic."
"Enthusiastic," Ron repeated, deadpan. "That's one word for it."
Finally, Lockhart clapped his hands.
"Now! What better way to begin than with a little practical experience? Books can only take us so far. Today—we face danger head on!"
He whipped the cloth off a cage at the front of the room. Inside, a dozen bright blue Cornish pixies buzzed and shrieked, glaring at us with wicked grins.
Ron groaned. "You've got to be kidding."
Lockhart beamed. "Not at all! You'll thank me later. Now, your goal is simple: subdue them! Let's see what you've learned already!"
Before anyone could protest, he threw the cage door open.
The moment he opened the latch, the classroom exploded into chaos.
Pixies shrieked and zoomed everywhere yanking Neville's bag apart, scattering parchment, and one even tugged at Dean's ear like it was trying to fly away with it.
I exhaled, lifted my hand lazily, and focused. Stillness.
One pixie froze mid flight, smacked the floor, and rolled under a desk.
Ron blinked. "Wait you didn't even use your wand!"
"Sure I did." I tapped the wand lying idly across my desk. "See? The wand's supervising."
That got Dean to snort even as he wrestled his quill back.
Another pixie swooped toward Hermione's hair. With a flick of my fingers, it jerked backward mid-air and smacked into the wall.
I raised an eyebrow.
"Bad manners."
Hermione whirled on me. "Harry! You—did you just—"
"Learning efficiency," I said smoothly, lips quirking. "Why waste breath?"
Meanwhile, Lockhart waved his wand dramatically.
"Peskipiksi Pesternomi!"
Nothing happened. In fact, two pixies stole his wand and zipped around the chandelier with it.
Ron doubled over laughing. "He's dueling pixies and losing!"
"Some professor," I muttered, flicking another pixie into Neville's bag and snapping it shut without touching it.
Neville gaped.
"Thanks, Harry," he said weakly.
"Anytime."
Between Hermione's crisp incantations, my silent pushes, and Dean and Seamus trying (with varying degrees of disaster), the pixies were mostly subdued.
Lockhart jumped down from his chair, beaming as though he'd planned it all.
"Splendid! Excellent show of quick thinking and magical bravery!" he declared.
Ron muttered, "More like excellent show of Harry doing everything."
I smirked. "Don't say it too loud, he'll put it in his next book."
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As we filed out of class, Seamus nudged me. "Seriously, mate, how'd you do that? Didn't even hear you whisper."
I shrugged lightly. "Trade secret."
Ron shook his head, grinning. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"
Hermione, though, kept glancing at me, curiosity burning in her eyes. I pretended not to notice.
We spilled out of Lockhart's classroom, the echoes of pixie screeches still in the air. Ron was laughing so hard he almost tripped on the stairs.
"Did you see his face when the pixies nicked his wand? Priceless!"
Dean chuckled. "I thought he was gonna faint."
Neville, still a bit pale, said, "I thought I was gonna faint, until Harry boxed them all up like he'd been doing it since first year."
Ron elbowed me. "Yeah, mate. Care to explain how you stunned three pixies without even twitching your wand? Don't tell me you've been hiding secret lessons."
I grinned. "Ron, it's called style. Some of us are born with it."
Dean snorted. "Or born cheating."
Hermione cut in sharply, though her eyes stayed fixed on me. "It wasn't cheating. It was, something else. Something advanced." She bit her lip. "That wasn't normal."
"Define normal," I said innocently, hands in my pockets.
Ron groaned. "Here we go, riddle Harry."
By the time we reached the Great Hall, the smell of roast chicken and treacle tart was thick in the air. We slid onto the Gryffindor bench.
Seamus leaned over, whispering to Dean, "Reckon Harry's got a secret wand holster under his sleeve."
I picked up a roll, tore it in half, and said, "If I did, Seamus, would I still be toppling pixies with a yawn?"
Ron laughed so hard pumpkin juice nearly shot out his nose.
Hermione, however, was still quiet, prodding at her mashed potatoes. When I nudged her, she glanced up.
"You should be careful," she said softly. "Wordless magic is dangerous. Advanced. You can't just play with it like you're showing off."
I smiled, more gently this time. "Hermione, trust me. I know what I'm doing."
Her frown deepened. "That's what worries me."
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The fire crackled warmly, students crowded around chessboards and homework tables.
I sat with Ron, watching him lose spectacularly to Seamus.
Hermione slipped into the seat next to me, voice low so the others couldn't overhear.
"Harry."
I tilted my head. "Yes, Miss Granger?"
Her eyes narrowed. "Don't you dare joke. I want the truth. How are you doing it? That wasn't wandwork. And it wasn't silent casting like they teach in advanced N.E.W.T. classes either. It was… different."
I studied the flames for a moment, then met her gaze. "If I told you the truth, would you believe me?"
Hermione hesitated. "…try me."
I smirked faintly. "Then you'll just have to wait until I'm ready to explain. Some mysteries are better savored."
She huffed, folding her arms. "You're impossible."
Ron leaned back from the chessboard, grinning. "He's impossible, but he's our impossible. Right, Harry?"
I stretched lazily. "Right."
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The dungeon was cool and smelled faintly of damp stone and spice.
Cauldrons hissed and bubbled all around us as Snape stalked between the rows like a hunting greasy bat.
"Today," he announced, voice silky, "we will brew a Strengthening Solution. If brewed correctly, it enhances stamina and fortitude. If brewed incorrectly…" He paused dramatically. "The results can be catastrophic. You have one hour. Begin."
I was paired with Neville again.
He looked nervous, clutching his ladle like it was a shield.
"Relax, Neville," I said. "We'll do this together."
I scanned the instructions, then ignored half of them.
Instead, I thought about the properties of each ingredient, peppermint for circulation, salamander blood for magical conductivity, knotgrass for focus. The way they interacted was… obvious. Like equations I had solved before.
"Grind that root finer," I told Neville. "Not powder, just finer slivers. It'll release the oils evenly."
He blinked. "But the book says—"
"I know. Trust me."
To his credit, he did.
By the time other students were fumbling with their mixtures, our cauldron gleamed with a vibrant emerald solution, steam curling steadily instead of spitting.
Snape loomed behind us, his shadow falling across the table. Neville stiffened.
"…Perfect color," Snape muttered, peering into the cauldron. His lip curled. "An improvement on the standard recipe. And here I thought only Longbottom would ruin it."
Neville flushed crimson.
I looked up, meeting Snape's eyes calmly. "Sometimes books leave out the fun parts."
His nostrils flared, but he swept away without docking a single point.
Which, by Snape's standards, was a standing ovation.
"Harry," Neville whispered, awed, "that was brilliant."
I winked. "Told you. Trust me."
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McGonagall's sharp heels clicked against the stone floor as she led us into the classroom.
On each desk sat a small, twitchy rabbit. Mine nibbled at the edge of my sleeve.
"Today," she said crisply, "we will attempt a complete transformation of a living creature into an inanimate object. Specifically, rabbit into slippers."
Around me, quills scratched furiously. Ron muttered, "Slippers? Really?"
Hermione hushed him.
I raised my wand, thought of fabric and form, but more than that of what it meant to change.
To dissolve boundary between life and object, substance and symbol.
My rabbit shimmered, twitched once, then became a pair of soft gray slippers, perfectly sized. No hesitation. No effort.
McGonagall's eyes flicked to me. She paused, just for a second, before moving on. She said nothing.
Ron groaned at his rabbit, which now had one paw that looked suspiciously like a sock. "Honestly, mate, do you even try?"
I smirked. "Why strain when you can flow?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "You make it sound like you're floating down a river, not rewriting the laws of matter."
"Maybe both," I said lightly.
She huffed, but I caught the flicker of something in her eyes, admiration, mixed with frustration.
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The hall was buzzing when we came down from morning Herbology. Trays clattered, owls swooped overhead, and the smell of roasted chicken and warm bread filled the air. I slid onto the bench between Ron and Hermione, who already had plates piled high.
Ron pushed the platter of chicken legs toward me. "You've got to try these. Best part of the week."
"Ron," Hermione said, exasperated, "it's just roasted chicken."
"Yeah, but Hogwarts chicken. It's got magic in it," Ron argued, mouth full.
I grinned, grabbing one. "Pretty sure the magic's just salt and butter, mate."
Across the table, Seamus snorted. "Don't ruin it, Harry. Let Ron believe in the Great Chicken Mystery."
I took a big bite, chewing thoughtfully. "He's not entirely wrong, you know. Food does taste different here. Probably the enchantments on the kitchens or the elves' magic."
Hermione perked up. "That makes sense! If the cooking process itself is infused with magic, it could alter the molecular—"
"Don't say molecular at lunch," Ron groaned, dropping his fork.
I smirked. "Don't worry, Ron. I'll explain molecules to you after dessert."
"Brilliant," he muttered. "I can't wait."
Fred leaned over from further down the table, voice pitched just loud enough to carry. "What's this I hear? Our Savior's giving science lessons now?"
George joined in instantly. "Does it involve explosions?"
"Because we'd like to sign up if it does," Fred finished.
I deadpanned. "Yes. First class is on combustion. You provide the fuel."
The twins slapped each other's shoulders in delight.
Hermione, though, turned back to me with narrowed eyes. "You're still not telling us everything, Harry. You make it look like all this—" she gestured vaguely with her fork, "—magic stuff is just obvious to you. Like you don't even need to try."
I shrugged, masking the truth with a crooked grin. "Maybe I'm just that good."
"Prat," she muttered, but there was no heat in it.
Neville, who'd been quiet until now, piped up nervously. "Well… Harry does make it look easy. But he also helps us. That's… that's worth more than just being good at it."
I clapped him on the shoulder. "Thanks, Neville. See? Someone appreciates me."
Ron raised his goblet. "To Harry, who makes everything look unfairly easy and still somehow manages to be a git about it."
"Cheers," Seamus and Dean chorused, raising theirs too.
I just shook my head, laughing into my pumpkin juice.
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Hope you like it!!. I kind of hate this much slice of life cuz i feel like I am just writting filler but eh some fillers ar eprobably needed.
Also drop some rewiews!!!!
P.S: Today is also Gandhi jayanti!!.
Those who dont know, Gandhi Jayanti is a national holiday celebrated in India on October 2nd to commemorate the birth anniversary of Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi, also known as Mahatma Gandhi.
See ya!!
-Nine11P2