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Chapter 15 - chapter 15

Harry thought that Friday had arrived all too quickly. It started off with two potions classes with Professor Snape, and now he was stuck in Defense Against the Dark Arts with Lockhart. The green-eyed wizard couldn't shake the feeling that Lockhart wasn't cut out for teaching. The classroom only reinforced his doubts; the walls were plastered with various photographs of Lockhart—while Quirrell, despite being an awful teacher with his fake stuttering, at least had images related to his subject. Lockhart, on the other hand, seemed more interested in showcasing himself than teaching the class.

 

Once everyone settled into their seats, Lockhart cleared his throat to grab their attention. As silence fell over the room, he picked up a book from Dean Thomas, who was sitting right in front of him, and held it up to show off the winking portrait of himself on the cover.

 

"Me," he declared, pointing at his own image while winking. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, honorary member of the Dark Force Defense League, and a five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award—though I don't mention that often. I didn't defeat the Bandon Banshee by just smiling at her!" A few students offered half-hearted smiles at his joke. "I see you've all bought the complete set of my books—well done. But today, we're going to start with a little quiz—nothing to worry about, just a quick check on how well you've read the texts..." With that, Lockhart began handing out test papers, using his hands instead of magic. "You have thirty minutes. Begin... now."

 

Harry flipped over his paper and stared in dismay at the fifty-four questions—all about Lockhart—and none about actual Defense. How could one even learn anything from these books? Still, the green-eyed Gryffindor tried to respond to some of the questions, hoping to avoid any unwanted attention from the professor.

 

Thirty minutes later, Lockhart collected the papers—once again without magic—and flipped through them while commenting on their contents. Unsurprisingly, only Hermione had answered all the questions correctly, thus earning Gryffindor ten points.

 

With the quiz wrapped up, Lockhart stowed away the papers and revealed a large covered cage that had been hidden on his desk.

 

"Now, be warned! It is my job to prepare you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Just know that no harm can come to you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm." Many students, particularly the Gryffindors, leaned forward in anticipation. "Please refrain from screaming," he added in a hushed tone. "It might provoke them." As the class held its breath, Lockhart dramatically whipped off the cover. "Yes... freshly caught Cornish pixies!"

 

Seamus Finnigan couldn't contain himself and erupted into laughter, making it clear that he didn't take the creatures seriously. "Well, they're not very... dangerous, are they?" he choked out.

 

"Don't be too sure!" Lockhart warned, wagging a finger at Seamus. "They can be quite tricky!" Indeed, while pixies were mischievous and could bite, their venom was hardly fatal unless someone was unfortunate enough to get bitten several times. In reality, they posed little danger—unless, of course, one was Lockhart. "Alright then," the professor announced. "Let's see how you handle them!" And with that, he flung open the cage.

 

Chaos erupted. Pixies darted in every direction, zooming through windows and showering the back row with shards of glass. They wreaked havoc, dousing students with ink, shredding books, and tossing papers and belongings out of the shattered windows. Within minutes, the entire class found refuge under their desks.

 

"Come on now—round them up! They're only pixies!" Lockhart shouted, rolling up his sleeves and brandishing his wand. "Peskipiksi Pesternomi!" The spell had no effect. One pixie gleefully snatched his wand and hurled it out of the window. Lockhart gulped and dove under his own desk, before making a frantic escape to his private office, leaving the students to face the pixies alone.

 

Seeing their professor flee, Harry realized it was up to them to take charge. What could they do against the pixies? He had no real spells for handling them—unless he could remember that pixies relied heavily on their hearing. Summoning his courage, Harry produced a loud banging noise, successfully redirecting the pixies' attention toward him. Just as he thought he'd be a target, another bang echoed from the opposite side of the classroom, caused by Draconica, who had caught on to the plan.

 

Utilizing the distraction he created, Harry continued using loud sounds to redirect the pixies. Meanwhile, students began emerging from their hiding spots, casting various spells they'd learned from Quirrell or—like Crabbe and Goyle—using Lockhart's books as makeshift weapons.

 

Eventually, all of the pixies were rounded up and caged again. As the students wrapped up, Lockhart returned to the classroom, looking as self-satisfied as ever and ready to offer praise—most likely on how effectively they had used the spell he had demonstrated—when the bell rang, mercifully saving them from his attempted accolades.

 

~/ *** \~

 

Saturday wasn't off to a much better start for Harry than Friday's chaotic afternoon. This time, it was Oliver Wood at the helm, insisting the team start training for the upcoming Quidditch season at six in the morning on the first weekend back at Hogwarts, lasting until lunch. At least the house-elves had provided food and drinks during a brief break in the grueling seven-hour training session, where Wood had them repeating the basics over and over.

 

As the team trudged back to the castle for a late lunch, they passed by the Slytherin team entering the pitch. Among them was a new member (precisely equipped with shiny new Nimbus 2001 brooms) who immediately caught Harry's attention: it was Draconica. He locked eyes with her, silently asking why she was there, as he had never pegged her for a Quidditch player. The blond witch looked back, her gaze silently assuring him that she would explain later.

 

~/ *** \~

 

Monday's Defense Against the Dark Arts class proved no better than Friday's. After the pixie debacle, Lockhart announced that they would be role-playing scenes from his book, "Year with the Yeti." Thankfully, Harry managed to avoid being chosen as Lockhart's assistant, much to his relief.

 

During the second DADA lesson, while Harry pretended to be engaged with Lockhart's antics, a paper airplane suddenly landed on his desk. Curious, he unfolded it to reveal a message:

 

*Meet me in the library tonight at six, and bring your friends: things need to be discussed.*

 

Though unsigned, there was no doubt in Harry's mind who had sent it: the scribbled style and the use of Muggle pen made it unmistakably Draconica. He folded it neatly and tucked it away in his robe, planning to address it with his friends later.

 

~/ *** \~

 

Before six that evening, Harry, Hermione, and Neville entered the library to find Draconica already seated in a far corner with an unmarked book before her.

 

"Longbottom, Potter, Granger," Draconica greeted them as they approached. "You may have guessed why I called you here. To be blunt, our Defense professor is utterly useless…" Harry had suspected their discussion would revolve around DADA, but he hadn't shared this with his friends. Still, all three Gryffindors nodded in agreement. Even Hermione, who had once defended Lockhart, seemed to understand the necessity of the conversation. "With Professor Quirrell barely teaching us anything last year, we'll need to engage in serious self-studying if we want to pass our DADA OWLs."

 

"Yeah, we had to study on our own last year just to get A's," Harry affirmed, with Neville nodding in agreement and Hermione looking contemplative, still clinging a bit to her idealistic views about authority figures.

 

"My proposal is to form a self-study club for anyone interested in Defense," Draconica continued. "Since none of us are qualified to teach independently, our plan should be collaborative: anyone with useful information can share it with the others." She paused for emphasis before adding, "Don't think I'm doing this out of kindness: if something endangers wizarding Britain, we'll need aurors, and if the state of DADA doesn't improve, then we risk having no one qualified to protect us."

 

"I like the idea, but... will it really work with students from different houses?" Harry asked thoughtfully.

 

"I believe the house rivalry has gone too far already. Those who want to learn will join us; their loss if they don't," Draconica replied confidently.

 

"Count me in. We need to equip ourselves to face what lies beyond Hogwarts if the school fails to prepare us," Harry said firmly.

 

"I'm in too," Neville echoed.

 

"Me three," Hermione added, never one to miss an opportunity to learn.

 

"Great. We need to recruit more members, so please ask your housemates and any Hufflepuffs in your year if they're interested. I'll ask my house and the Ravens." She glanced at the clock. "Dinner's in half an hour, so it's best we go now—we wouldn't want to draw attention to ourselves leaving together. I have some reading to finish before the library closes, anyway." The trio nodded and began to leave when Draconica called out to Harry. "Potter, I know you have questions. You can ask me now." She softened her tone, offering him a rare moment of candor.

 

Harry hesitated, then finally spoke. "I saw you on the Slytherin Quidditch team last Saturday... I didn't think you were interested in the game." It came out more as a statement than a question, but she understood.

 

"I never was, until my father decided I need to bring more glory to the Malfoy name... At least I was allowed to choose my position—I'm a chaser. So no worries, I'm not trying to take your spot as the best seeker," she said, flashing a brief smile.

 

"That's a relief. Just don't expect me to share any of Wood's strategy with you; I can barely remember them myself," Harry chuckled.

 

"I wouldn't dream of asking—rumors about us being more than just friends might start circulating then," she added, maintaining the façade of their relationship status. "Now, you should probably go before dinner."

 

Nodding, Harry stood, offering a quick goodbye before leaving the library.

 

~/ *** \~

 

Meanwhile, in the dungeons of Slytherin, Theodore Nott was plotting. He was not pleased about Draconica Malfoy's ascension to the role of unofficial leader of Slytherin. Besides her arrogance, her standing was propped up by her powerful father—all the other Slytherins were wary of crossing the Malfoys.

 

However, Nott saw Basilius as a poor leader and anticipated that he would cause trouble for the house with his folly—that is, unless someone intervened. Slytherin needed cunning leadership, someone with political acumen. That someone could be him—even if his father's influence wasn't as formidable as others.

 

As Nott contemplated regaining his previous status, he realized he couldn't challenge Basilius directly. Instead, he needed to remove Malfoy from the equation altogether. Once she became a non-factor, he could reclaim his position as the house leader. If he played his cards right, he would emerge as a competent leader, backed by his prior experience.

 

~/ *** \~

 

In the following days, the "Golden Trio" and Draconica discreetly asked their classmates if they'd like to join the newly proposed club. Naturally, they did so subtly to avoid attracting any unwanted attention.

 

Among the Gryffindors, only Parvati Patil was interested in joining—the others either weren't keen on extra studying or didn't want prolonged interactions with the "slimy Slytherins."

 

The Hufflepuffs, conversely, showed a great deal of interest. Most were eager to join, with only Ernie Macmillan dismissing the club due to personal issues he held against Harry, while Justin Finch-Fletchley and Zacharias Smith opted out purely out of laziness.

 

From Draconica's intel, it seemed that the Ravenclaws were similarly keen on joining, with only one—Michael Corner—deciding against it. Among the Slytherins, meanwhile, only four expressed interest in the club: Tracey Davis, Theodore Nott, Daphne Greengrass, and Draconica herself.

 

With the club's membership established, the four met once more in the library just hours before their Astronomy class. After some discussion, they decided their meetings would be held in the library's reading room every Thursday afternoon, starting the following week. As for the club's name, that was to be decided in their first official meeting. All four were hopeful that their initiative would succeed, giving them the training they desperately needed for their future in the wizarding world.