Harry Potter And The Prince Of Slytherin 132 Photograph Pt.2

Deaf to Draco's murmurs, Lockhart swept him down a corridor lined with staring students and up a staircase."Let me just say that handing out signed pictures at this stage of your career isn't sensible — looks a tad bigheaded, Draco, to be frank. There may well come a time when, like me, you'll need to keep a stack handy wherever you go, but" — he gave a little chortle — "I don't think you're quite there yet."

They had reached Lockhart's cla.s.sroom and he let Draco go at last. Draco yanked his robes straight and headed for a seat at the very back of the cla.s.s, where he busied himself with piling all seven of Lockhart's books in front of him so that he could avoid looking at the real thing. Draco right now didn't look charming at all, instead, he looked like an old witch planning to cast a curse on someone.

The rest of the cla.s.s came clattering in, and Theodore, Daphne, and Pansy sat down on either side of Draco. Since they had the defense against the dark arts with Gryffindors, Harry, Ron, and Hermione came as well along with other Gryffindor second years. Hermione sat in front of Draco while Harry and Ron sat across him. Looking at Harry's face, Draco figured that he wasn't the only one getting hara.s.sed by Lockhart.

When the whole cla.s.s 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 Cla.s.s, 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 few people smiled weakly. While Draco, on the other hand, was cringing harder than anyone.

"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 cla.s.s and said, "You have thirty minutes — start —now!"

Draco 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 the paper, right down to:

54. When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?

Draco who didn't have any interest in this so-called test didn't answer a single question as he played around with his quill. Half an hour later, Lockhart collected the papers and rifled through them in front of the cla.s.s.

"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 non-magic peoples — though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogdeds Old Firewhisky!"

He gave them another roguish wink. Theodore 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! Where is Miss Hermione Granger?"

Hermione raised her hand.

"Excellent!" beamed Lockhart. "Quite excellent! Take ten points for Gryffindor! And so — to business —"

Draco quickly called out to Hermione still wondering why she was so focused on Lockhart, even when he had warned her several times.

"Don't think too much about it." She said, "Even if what you say is true, I still don't want to fail my cla.s.ses."

Getting relived a little Draco looked at Lockhart who 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."

In spite of himself, Draco leaned around his pile of books for a better look at the cage. Lockhart placed a hand on the cover. Dean and Seamus had stopped laughing now. Neville was cowering in his front row seat.

"I must ask you not to scream," said Lockhart in a low voice. "It might provoke them."

As the whole cla.s.s held its breath, Lockhart whipped off the cover.

"Yes," he said dramatically. "Freshly caught Cornish pixies."

Theodore 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 Lockhart.

"Well, they're not — they're not very —dangerous, are they?" Theodore choked, still trying to hold his laughter in.

"Don't be so sure!" said Lockhart, waggling a finger annoyingly at Theodore. "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 gla.s.s. The rest proceeded to wreck the cla.s.sroom more effectively than a rampaging rhino. They grabbed ink bottles and sprayed the cla.s.s with them, shredded books and papers, tore pictures from the walls, up-ended the wastebasket, grabbed bags and books and threw them out of the smashed window; within minutes, half the cla.s.s 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.

Draco had enough of it as he stood up, grabbing Daphne's wand. "Sectumsempra"

Draco chanted and in a single blow half of the Pixies were cut in half. Not wanting to deal with the rest of them, Draco blasted a hole through the window and the remaining scared Pixies quickly ran for their life.