Chapter2: Lockhart's classes
The next day, everything was fine for Edward. The four longhouse tables were laden with tureens of porridge, plates of kippers, mountains of toast, and dishes of eggs and bacon, beneath the enchanted ceiling (today, a dull, cloudy gray). Edward,Harry and Ron sat down at the Gryffindor table next to Hermione, who had her copy of Voyages with Vampires propped open against a milk jug. They talked and laughed for a while. After receiving their schedules, they went to the first class.
As they neared the greenhouses they saw the rest of the class standing outside, waiting for Professor Sprout. Edward, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had only just joined them when she came striding into view across the lawn, accompanied by Gilderoy Lockhart. Professor Sprout's arms were full of bandages, and with another twinge of guilt. Edward spotted the Whomping Willow in the distance, several of its branches now in slings.
Professor Sprout was a squat little witch who wore a patched hat over her flyaway hair. Gilderoy Lockhart, however, was immaculate in sweeping robes of turquoise, his golden hair shining under a perfectly positioned turquoise hat with gold trimming. "Oh, hello there!" he called, beaming around at the assembled students. "Just been showing Professor Sprout the right way to doctor a Whomping Willow! But I don't want you running away with the idea that I'm better at Herbology than she is! I just happen to have met several of these exotic plants on my travels…"
"Greenhouse three today, chaps!" said Professor Sprout, who was looking distinctly disgruntled, not at all her usual cheerful self.
Edward winced. He liked Professer Sprout. Being the Dean of Hufflepuff, she had a nice warm aura which helped him whenever he was feeling low. After learning the Mokuton spell last year, he helped Ms. Sprout in her greenhouse, which brought their relationship closer. Unfortunately, she seemed to be in a bad mood today.
Edward watched as Lockheart took Harry away for a small talk. When Harry came back, he was in a much lower mood than before.
"What happened mate?" asked Ron
"You wouldn't believe what the professor said.He gave me tips on how to look better and improve my popularity." scowled Harry.
Hermione was still confused by Lockharts false reputation so she defended him, no one paid any attention to her. Transfiguration class was pretty easy for Edward. Unlike other students, he used this class to practice alchemy. After reading the book that Professor Dumbeldore got him, he obtained Alchemy from FullMetal Alchemist. Unfortunately, he had to use chalk or some sort of medium to use Alchemy, so he was working to see if he could skip that step. Sadly, he had no success.
Lunch was a welcome relief for Edward. Edward hated all the boring lessons so far. Even his bad mood affected the surroundings. Ron was in an even worse shape. In an accident, his wand was broken, so he tried to fix it using Spell-o-tape, a magical tape in the wizarding world.
"Stupid — useless — thing —"
"Write home for another one," Harry suggested as the wand let off a volley of bangs like a firecracker.
"Oh, yeah, and get a Howler back," said Ron, stuffing the now hissing wand into his bag. "
'It's your own fault your wand got snapped — '"
"What've we got this afternoon?" said Harry, hastily changing the subject.
"Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione at once.
"Why," demanded Ron, seizing her schedule, "have you outlined all Lockhart's lessons in little hearts?"
Edward finally got out of his stupor hearing that, and Hermione snatched the schedule back, blushing furiously. They finished lunch and went outside into the overcast courtyard. Hermione sat down on a stone step and buried her nose in Voyages with Vampires again. Harry and Ron stood talking about Quidditch for several minutes, while Edward continued experimenting with alchemy again. Strangely, he heard some clicking sounds constantly. Looking up, he saw the very small, mousy-haired boy he'd seen trying on the Sorting Hat last night staring at Harry as though transfixed. He was clutching what looked like a camera, and the moment everyone looked at him, he went bright red.
"All right, Harry? I'm — I'm Colin Creevey," he said breathlessly, taking a tentative step forward. "I'm in Gryffindor, too. D'you think — would it be all right if — can I have a picture?" he said, raising the camera hopefully.
"A picture?" Harry repeated blankly.
"So I can prove I've met you," said Colin Creevey eagerly, edging further forward.
"I know all about you. Everyone's told me. About how you survived when You-Know-Who tried to kill you and how he disappeared and everything and how you've still got a lightning scar on your forehead" (his eyes raked Harry's hairline) "and a boy in my dormitory said if I develop the film in the right potion, the pictures'll move." Colin drew a great shuddering breath of excitement and said, "It's amazing here, isn't it? I never knew all the odd stuff I could do was magic till I got the letter from Hogwarts. My dad's a milkman, he couldn't believe it either. So I'm taking loads of pictures to send home to him. And it'd be really good if I had one of you" — he looked imploringly at Harry — "maybe your friend could take it and I could stand next to you? And then, could you sign it?"
Edward was amused. He felt like this paparazzi boy had some talent. Perhaps he could create a new newspaper and have this guy be one of the reporters. He mentally decided to do that later.
In the DADA class, Edward sat down next to Hermione. He saw Hermione being unusually excited about the new teacher. Pity. Edward knew how disappointed she would be later.
When the whole class was seated, Lockhart cleared his throat loudly and silence fell. He reached forward, picked up Neville Longbottom's copy of Travels with Trolls, and held it up to show his own, winking portrait on the front.
"Me," he said, pointing at it and winking as well.
"Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!" He waited for them to laugh. A couple people gave out weak chuckles at that, but he didn;t care.
"I see you've all bought a complete set of my books — well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about — just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in —" When he had handed out the test papers he returned to the front of the class and said, "You have thirty minutes — start —now!" Edward looked down at his paper and read:
1. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?
2. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?
3. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?
On and on it went, over three sides of paper, right down to:
54. When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?
Edward grinned like a maniac doll. Oh he was so going to have fun with this questionnaire.
Half an hour later, Lockhart collected the papers and rifled through them in front of the class.
"Tut, tut — hardly any of you remembered that my favorite color is lilac. I say so in Year with the Yeti. And a few of you need to read Wanderings with Werewolves more carefully — I clearly state in chapter twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and antimagic peoples — though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey!"
He gave them another roguish wink. Ron was now staring at Lockhart with an expression of disbelief on his face; Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, who were sitting in front, were shaking with silent laughter. Hermione, on the other hand, was listening to Lockhart with rapt attention and gave a start when he mentioned her name.
"… but Miss Hermione Granger knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions — good girl! In fact" — he flipped her paper over — "full marks! So far so good. Hmm. Nice answers."
Suddenly, Lockheart stumbled upon looking at Edward's answer sheet.
1. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?
A) Hot pink like the underwear he is wearing.
2. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?
a)To become a lolicon. He took the right step by becoming a teacher to a bunch of children.
3. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?
a)Not being bludgeoned to death by his fans using the books that he had written.
On and on it went, over three sides of paper, right down to:
54. When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?
a)Idk. His ideal gift would be a yearly subscription for an adult magazine.
Lockhart wanted to scold the other party immediately, but he saw the name Malfoy, and shuddered. Don't provoke. Especially pure-bloods. He swallowed his anger and moved on.
He bent down behind his desk and lifted a large, covered cage onto it. "Now — be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm."
Everyone looked closer in anticipation.
"I must ask you not to scream," said Lockhart in a low voice. "It might provoke them."
As the whole class held its breath, Lockhart whipped off the cover.
"Yes," he said dramatically. "Freshly caught Cornish pixies."
Seamus Finnigan couldn't control himself. He let out a snort of laughter that even Lockhart couldn't mistake for a scream of terror.
"Yes?" He smiled at Seamus.
"Well, they're not — they're not very —dangerous, are they?" Seamus choked.
"Don't be so sure!" said Lockhart, waggling a finger annoyingly at Seamus. "Devilish tricky little blighters they can be!"
The pixies were electric blue and about eight inches high, with pointed faces and voices so shrill it was like listening to a lot of budgies arguing. The moment the cover had been removed, they had started jabbering and rocketing around, rattling the bars and making bizarre faces at the people nearest them.
"Right, then," Lockhart said loudly. "Let's see what you make of them!" And he opened the cage. It was pandemonium. The pixies shot in every direction like rockets. Two of them seized Neville by the ears and lifted him into the air. Several shot straight through the window, showering the back row with broken glass.
The rest proceeded to wreck the classroom more effectively than a rampaging rhino. They grabbed ink bottles and sprayed the class with them, shredded books and papers, tore pictures from the walls, up-ended the waste basket, grabbed bags and books and threw them out of the smashed window; within minutes, half the class was sheltering under desks and Neville was swinging from the iron chandelier in the ceiling.
"Come on now — round them up, round them up, they're only pixies," Lockhart shouted. He rolled up his sleeves, brandished his wand, and bellowed, "Peskipiksi Pesternomi!" It had absolutely no effect; one of the pixies seized his wand and threw it out of the window, too. Lockhart gulped and dived under his own desk, narrowly avoiding being squashed by Neville, who fell a second later as the chandelier gave way.
Edward rushed over to save Neville using the Float fruit to let Neville down slowly. Seeing that the joke had gone too far, he took out his wand.
"Lightning Style: Circus of light."
The sparks from his wand went around and zapped all the Cornish pixies, who fell down as soon as they were paralyzed.
"Can you believe him?" roared Ron as one of the remaining pixies bit him painfully on the ear.
"He just wants to give us some hands-on experience," said Hermione, immobilizing two pixies at once with a clever Freezing Charm and stuffing them back into their cage.
"Hands on? "said Harry, who was trying to grab a pixie dancing out of reach with its tongue out.
"Hermione, he didn't have a clue what he was doing. Only Edward was able to deal with them easily."
"Rubbish," said Hermione. "You've read his books — look at all those amazing things he's done."
Edward rubbed his forehead," My dear gullible witch, I can say that I am a muggle in my books and people would still believe me as long as I don't show my magic."