The students of Hogwarts were accustomed to having a wide variety of dishes at their disposal during meals, ranging from traditional to more exotic ones. So, when they discovered this morning that every dish on the table contained chicken, they were a bit speechless.
Grilled chicken, chicken stuffed with mushrooms and orange, chicken curry, chicken rolls with cucumber and cream cheese, breaded chicken with cheese, spicy fried chicken…
There was even a chicken and rice smoothie, very nutritious.
Even the salad had tiny pieces of smoked chicken!
No one noticed how Ginny was staring at the chicken on the table...
The vegan students, adhering to their home-taught principle of not wasting food, simply stared at the dishes, sighed, shrugged at each other, and decided to eat like normal people.
That day, veganism lost many believers who never returned, realizing that humans are naturally omnivorous and limiting their diet in such a way made no real sense, beyond satisfying their ego by feeling special.
"Any clues?" Professor Flitwick asked as he ate some spicy fried chicken.
"No, whoever did it was extremely cautious," Barnaby admitted as he took a spoonful of his chicken stew with basil sauce, raisins, and toasted pine nuts.
"I see, well, I don't think it was the twins this time," Flitwick added as he moved on to the next piece of chicken. "If it were them, they would have likely taken the feathers for some prank. Going this far is impossible for them!"
Barnaby agreed with the statement. The Weasley twins had redefined the limits of some of their pranks and were more cautious in implementing them, which simultaneously made it harder to point fingers at them as they left fewer clues behind.
"Barnaby," Flitwick called quietly, "Minerva has asked me to tell you that she would appreciate it if you could stop by Lockhart's class this morning, just in case. It seems he's brought a handful of Cornish pixies for his lesson and, well..."
"Alright. I'll make sure they don't escape the classroom," Barnaby assured after a moment of silence. "But I warn you, I won't clean up the inevitable mess that man makes every time; it would be better to find a qualified substitute next time."
Flitwick nodded, also quite concerned about the safety and studies of the DADA students this year.
"Are my ears buzzing?" The legendary Lockhart popped in between them, holding Flitwick's shoulder in an overly friendly manner. "I always have time for my fans!"
"I was thinking of stopping by your lesson this morning to... appreciate your teaching style," Barnaby commented with a poker face. "I hope you don't mind having more audience."
Gilderoy's eyes lit up at the mention of the word "audience."
"Not at all!" Lockhart straightened up with a big smile. "You can come too, Professor Flitwick, so you can see how modern and successful teachers of today teach. We must be innovative!"
Wow, the lack of respect in this man is astounding.
"I'm afraid I have my own lessons at the same time," Flitwick refuted while the chicken bone in his hand broke under the pressure of his thumb.
"A real shame," Lockhart rubbed his chin dramatically. "Maybe I should write a book about my experience as a teacher?"
"I'm sure it would be a complete success," Barnaby commented as he resumed his meal.
After all, pigs have to eat something. No, wait, on second thought, they'd probably get intoxicated and sick from the amount of rubbish it contains.
Yes, Barnaby took the trouble to borrow one of Gilderoy Lockhart's books from a fourth-year Hufflepuff student, wanting to see his supposed experiences firsthand.
He wasn't going to pay that price for a questionable book!
The result?
He had to fight his urge to set the book on fire after ten pages since it was borrowed. Even when he returned it, he asked for the student's opinion, but she only parroted about Lockhart's smile and his shiny hair.
Barnaby personally checked that there wasn't an intelligence-reducing curse on her but detected nothing unusual, leaving him more confused.
How could anyone believe the nonsense in those lines?
Maybe he wasn't an expert in the field, but he considered himself quite knowledgeable and saw countless errors and absurdities regarding how he supposedly faced various creatures.
Facing a Red Cap with a toothbrush and courage?
Chasing away a boggart with his smile reflected in a mirror?
And let's not even mention the banshee captivated by Lockhart's singing...
But even someone so incompetent should be able to minimally perform in the classes he teaches, right? He just had to use the teaching material from the books to...
Oh, right.
It seems a lot of books were bought for DADA this year, but none were related to the subject in question.
He'd better hurry to the DADA classroom to avoid major problems.
Today was the first lesson for the second-years, and Lockhart introduced himself, showcased his "achievements," and conducted an initial exam to assess the students' level.
For Barnaby, this was unexpectedly professional and appropriate. He would do that himself if he were in Lockhart's place, given the results provided by Quirrell last year.
At least that's what he thought until he read the questions...
-What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?
-What is his trademark hair conditioner brand?
-List ten of Gilderoy Lockhart's countless virtues.
Fortunately, thanks to his identity as an observer, Gilderoy was very understanding of his lack of answers, despite his dramatically disappointed face.
"I want to scratch his face," Sanshi said dryly.
"No. Setting aside that attacking a professor is wrong, you can't do it in front of all the students," Barnaby argued through their link.
A dissatisfied growl was the response he got, but Sanshi calmed down.
"Wonderful job!" Lockhart reviewed the answers and nodded with great pride. "Although there is still room for improvement, it's clear that most of you have the most necessary basic knowledge. Let's move on to the practical part!"
After a little time to add drama and unsettle the students, Gilderoy lifted the cloth covering the cage to reveal...
"Cornish pixies?" Finnigan laughed, realizing there was no danger as he had imagined.
Barnaby raised an eyebrow, having a hunch where this was going. The eyes of his staff began to glow faintly before returning to normal.
"Yes, they were gathered by my own hands this morning," Lockhart boasted as he slowly extended his hand towards the tiny door. "Let's see how you handle them!"
He opened the cage door, and everything went haywire.
Barnaby didn't act immediately; he had already sealed doors and windows to prevent any of these mischievous creatures from escaping and causing trouble for others in the castle.
Nor was there any Cornish pixie causing him problems. In fact, it seemed the little blue creatures unconsciously ignored him and didn't come within half a meter of him.
"Wow, Neville must be much lighter than he looks for those two pixies to lift him by the ears and hang him from the chandelier," Sanshi commented, trying to contain her laughter. "Aren't you going to stop them?"
"I wanted to see Lockhart's performance, but I didn't expect him to simply go to his office to lock himself in and leave the chaos he caused to the students," Barnaby shook his head, even more disappointed than he already was.
He prepared to round up the troublemakers, but to his surprise, someone did something useful instead of just dodging, hiding under the table, or hitting the pixies with a book as if it were a baseball bat.
Did they forget they can use magic?
"Immobulus!"
A wave of magic spread out and immobilized all the Cornish pixies, who could only float in zero gravity while their eyes darted around, not understanding why they couldn't cause more mischief.
Ah, he could start to understand why Hermione ended up in Gryffindor instead of Ravenclaw despite being a "bookworm"; she seems to have the confidence to use magic when the situation calls for it.
Drawing and holding the cage in his hand, Barnaby lightly tapped it with his staff, and a suction force pulled all the Cornish pixies back into the cage before the tiny door closed by itself.
"Good job," he congratulated to Hermione's confusion. "I'd give you five points if I could."
"How long have you been there?!" she asked, startled.
...
"You know what? Forget what I said."