Though wrapped head-to-toe in bandages, Lockhart still wore his signature smile.
But what was once a charming grin now looked outright comical, paired with the bandages, he looked less like a professor and more like a mummified court jester.
"Welcome, students, to Defense Against the Dark Arts!" he announced, his voice as theatrical as ever.
"I am your professor, Gilderoy Lockhart, recipient of the Third-Class Order of Merlin, honorary member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award. Though I rarely mention it, after all, I didn't banish those Banshees with just a smile!"
The class exchanged uncertain glances.
Charlie curled his lip. You might as well tattoo that award on your forehead.
"Of course, I trust you've all done your reading," Lockhart went on proudly, sweeping the room with his eyes. "Books such as Voyages with Vampires, Holidays with Hags, Wandering with Werewolves..."
Justin muttered under his breath, "Haven't read a single one."
"Now then, to test your grasp of my works, we'll begin with a little quiz!" Lockhart declared.
He instructed the students in the front row to pass out papers to everyone.
"Why isn't he just using magic for this?" Ernie asked, puzzled. "Isn't this the kind of thing you just wave a wand for?"
Charlie glanced at the quiz as it landed on his desk, and froze.
Question 1: What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?
Question 2: When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday?
Question 3: What does Gilderoy Lockhart consider to be his greatest achievement?
Charlie blinked. Then blinked again.
What the hell is this quiz?
Was this Defense Against the Dark Arts or a Lockhart fan convention?
If anyone in this class could answer these questions, Charlie was ready to eat his quiz sheet.
He was just about to toss it aside when he heard the sound of rapid scribbling next to him.
Turning his head, he saw Draco Malfoy furiously filling in answers.
Charlie was stunned.
Since when is Malfoy a Lockhart fanboy?
It didn't add up.
Draco would show up the second Harry so much as sneezed with flair, always ready to tear him down. And Lockhart? The man practically had "flamboyance" written into his bone marrow. How could Draco possibly be a fan?
Something wasn't right.
Less than ten minutes later, Draco had finished the quiz.
He noticed Charlie watching and gave him a sheepish smile, then slyly slid the quiz toward him.
Wait, he did this for me?
Charlie looked at the top of the sheet. Sure enough, it read: Charlie White.
Oh. That made it different.
With the quiz already served on a silver platter, it felt wasteful not to use it.
He handed his blank one to Draco in exchange. Draco began filling it out just as quickly.
Ernie and Justin gawked from the side.
"Charlie," Ernie whispered, "What's going on? I thought you and Draco didn't even get along?"
Charlie frowned and said solemnly, "What are you saying? Draco's my dearest friend. My brother-in-arms."
Justin rolled his eyes. "You've got no shame."
"Are you gonna copy or not?"
Charlie grinned. "Thanks, godfather."
Half an hour later, Lockhart collected the quizzes.
Charlie turned in Draco's carefully completed sheet and returned to his seat.
"Draco," he whispered, "you're seriously a Lockhart fan?"
Draco immediately shook his head in disgust.
"As if. That shallow clown? He's all show and no substance."
Charlie raised a brow. "Then how'd you answer all those questions? Don't tell me you actually read his books."
Draco leaned in and whispered, "He gave this exact quiz during his morning class. High scorers got bonus points. The older Slytherin students compiled all the answers, we're just here to farm House points."
He pulled a folded sheet from his pocket, filled edge to edge with tiny handwriting.
Charlie scanned it. Sure enough, it was a cheat sheet with every answer.
Classic Slytherin, he thought. They really will do anything for points.
But the trick worked. Lockhart soon finished grading and beamed with joy.
"Oh, splendid! Simply marvelous!" he cried, waving a handful of quizzes.
"Slytherin House, nearly all perfect scores!"
He turned to the back row. "Charlie, Ernie, Justin, and Hannah, perfect scores!"
"You all clearly know my deepest secrets, like my burning desire to vanquish all evil in the world and to make my hair-care line a best-seller!"
With great satisfaction, he announced, "Fifty points to Slytherin! Thirty points to Hufflepuff!"
"Now that I've assessed your abilities, it's time for the real lesson."
Lockhart stashed the quizzes away and hauled out a large cage from under the podium, draped with a heavy cloth.
With a dramatic twinkle in his eye, he said, "Students, today I will show you the most terrifying creatures in the wizarding world!"
Charlie raised an eyebrow.
Whatever it is, it's in a cage small enough to be used as a birdhouse. When Norbert was that size, he was barely potty trained.
"Are you ready?" Lockhart asked, gripping the cloth.
"Here we go!"
He whipped it away with a flourish.
"Ta-da! Cornish Pixies!"
Inside the cage were a couple dozen bright blue pixies, each no larger than a hand. They had sharp ears, buzzing wings, and were shrieking restlessly.
Malfoy scoffed loudly. "Seriously? That's it?"
The rest of the Slytherins laughed along.
Admittedly, they weren't exactly nightmare fuel.
Lockhart scowled. "You all seem quite confident."
"Well then, let's see how you fare in practice!"
He unlatched the cage.
In an instant, the pixies burst out, flooding the classroom in chaos.
They shrieked as they darted about, flinging ink bottles across the room, spraying black droplets like rainfall. Others shredded quills and parchment, creating a blizzard of paper. Some even dove at students, mouths wide, ready to bite.
"Get down!"
"They're trying to bite me!"
Students scattered in every direction, and the classroom dissolved into mayhem.
Lockhart, still on the podium, started to panic.
The situation had clearly gotten out of hand.
"Don't panic! Capture them! They're just pixies!"
Before he could finish, one latched onto his hair and began yanking.
"Ah! Not the hair! Let go!"
Just then, a pixie lunged at Charlie's face, teeth bared.
Charlie scowled and smacked it mid-air.
The pixie flew across the room, slammed into a wall, and slid to the ground, stars spinning above its head.
The sheer noise in the room, the screaming, the shrieking, Lockhart's squeals, was giving Charlie a headache.
He stood up, pulled out his wand, and didn't bother aiming.
Too much hassle.
Instead, he traced an intricate pattern through the air, the tip of his wand glowing red.
"Stupefy!"
As he cast the spell, a shower of red sparks burst from his wand, exploding outward in every direction.
Tiny red motes of light swirled across the room like fireworks, painting everything in their glow.
Standing at the center of it all, face half-shadowed beneath his bangs, Charlie radiated calm, silent authority.
He didn't have to shout.
He didn't have to threaten.
He simply stood there, and everyone could feel it:
A king had arrived.
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