The entire class stared at one another in awkward silence. This new professor was clearly off his rocker.
Lockhart launched into a dramatic retelling of the events from his book Gadding with Ghouls, painting every scene with broad, theatrical strokes. The classroom settled into a strange, heavy quiet. The handful of true fans listened with rapt attention, hanging on every word. Everyone else looked like they were sitting through another History of Magic lecture—bored, restless, and quietly counting the minutes.
To his credit, Lockhart could actually tell a story.
"Well then," he said brightly once he finished, clearly pleased with himself, "has anyone figured out the key details about Cornish pixies from my thrilling account?"
He scanned the room with that trademark eight-tooth smile, waiting for eager hands.
Michael glanced back at Rock and the others, one eyebrow raised in a clear signal. Rock, Theo, and Adam immediately understood what was coming.
"Professor," Michael said, lifting his hand. His voice was calm and precise. "According to the Ministry's classification, Cornish pixies are rated XX—harmless and trainable. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them specifically notes that their mischief is more annoying than dangerous. In your book, you describe a more aggressive variant. Do you have any documented evidence of magical mutation, or was the binding charm you used from a specific subspecies? And where exactly can we find the theoretical basis for that spell? I checked the pages you mentioned, and they only talk about how grateful the wizard you rescued was."
The classroom went dead silent.
Lockhart's smile froze for half a second before snapping back into place, brighter and more strained than before.
"Ah! An excellent, thoughtful question! A true Ravenclaw!"
He waved a hand as if brushing away the details. "Everything you need—the fine points, the spellwork, the practical application—is all in my award-winning Gadding with Ghouls, pages one hundred forty-seven through one hundred fifty-two. As for the theory behind the charm… well, some things simply require real-world experience. Books can only take you so far!"
Before Michael could follow up, Lockhart spun toward the covered cage with a flourish and yanked the cloth away.
The Cornish pixies exploded outward like blue rockets.
The moment they were free, the classroom descended into chaos. They had clearly been locked up far too long. Curtains were ripped down in seconds. Ink bottles from the teacher's desk went flying, splattering students and desks alike. Several backpacks were snatched up and hurled around the room like rag dolls.
Lockhart struck a dramatic pose, wand raised as though he had rehearsed this exact moment in front of a mirror.
"Peskipiksi Pesternomi!"
His wand gave the faintest flicker. Nothing happened.
"Ah… well," he said with an awkward shrug, "even the best of us have off days with incantations, don't we?"
The next instant, a swarm of pixies grabbed him by the robes and lifted him straight into the air. Lockhart's confident expression shattered into pure panic as he dangled several feet off the ground, legs kicking.
"Quickly now! This is the practical portion of the lesson—how to rescue someone being harassed by Cornish pixies!"
Rock shook his head. If he was reading the situation right, what Lockhart had really meant to say was somebody please get me down right now.
A pixie swooped in to tug at Rock's hair. He swatted it away with an open palm, then raised his wand in one smooth motion.
"Immobulus!"
A ripple of magic burst from the tip and spread through the room. Every pixie in midair froze instantly, suspended like blue statues.
"P-perfect!" Lockhart called down, sounding genuinely relieved—as if he had cast the spell himself.
Then his face went white. The freezing charm didn't affect gravity. He plummeted toward the stone floor.
"Wingardium Leviosa."
Rock's wand flicked again. Lockhart's robes billowed outward as the charm caught him, leaving the man hovering safely a foot above the ground.
Lockhart kept his eyes squeezed shut for several long seconds. When nothing hit him, he cautiously opened one eye.
"Professor," Rock said, stepping closer with a faint, polite smile, "I trust this solution meets with your approval?"
"Approval? It was brilliant! Outstanding work!" Lockhart nodded vigorously.
Several seconds passed. Rock made no move to release the levitation charm. Lockhart's smile began to waver. He glanced down at the floor, then back at Rock.
Rock simply raised an eyebrow and waited.
Lockhart's survival instincts finally kicked in.
"Ravenclaw—thirty points!" he announced loudly. "For two flawless spell castings!"
Only then did Rock lower his wand and offer Lockhart a hand, helping him down the last few inches to the floor.
"Well then, Professor," Rock said pleasantly, "I believe that concludes today's lesson."
The bell had rung the moment Lockhart was lifted into the air. With the points awarded, there was no reason to stay.
Chairs scraped back in unison. The entire class rose and filed out behind Rock and his friends without a single backward glance.
Lockhart stood alone in the wreckage of his classroom, pixies still frozen in midair, ink dripping from the walls. He stared at the chaos, voice barely above a whisper.
"…This wasn't how it was supposed to go. How did it all go so wrong?"
Out in the corridor, Adam looked genuinely confused.
"Peskipiksi Pesternomi… what kind of spell was that supposed to be?"
He had actually believed Lockhart simply messed up the pronunciation.
Rock and Theo exchanged a look. Michael clapped Adam on the shoulder.
"That wasn't a spell at all."
"And it definitely wasn't the charm from Gadding with Ghouls," Michael added. "The pages he pointed to are just the part where the wizard he 'rescued' spends several pages thanking him. That's it."
Adam's mouth opened, then closed. He glanced back toward the Defense classroom.
"…Then how the hell did he get hired? This is completely ridiculous."
Rock gave a quiet laugh.
"We should probably be grateful the Defense Against the Dark Arts post is cursed. The fact that they found anyone willing to take the job at all is a small miracle. Dumbledore must be getting desperate if he invited someone like Lockhart."
Adam frowned, thinking. "But Professor Snape covered the class for a while last year, didn't he?"
Rock didn't answer right away. Snape had stepped in temporarily, but the official name on the schedule had remained Quirrell's until the very end of term. Whether that counted as dodging the curse was debatable.
"Doesn't matter what his qualifications are," Theo said, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "This term's Defense class is going to be a disaster. Still… like Rock said, we can probably milk it for points while it lasts."
The others nodded. Between the quiz and the pixie incident, Ravenclaw had picked up nearly sixty points in a single lesson. Not bad for a day's work.
Only Padma looked uncomfortable. She had clearly wanted to believe Lockhart was the charming, heroic figure from his books. Watching the mask slip so completely had shaken her.
Rock didn't have the heart to tell her the worst was still coming. Lockhart's public humiliations were only just beginning.