Chapter 153. Lockhart's Invitation
"Back when I first came to Hogwarts, I did this very thing myself," Professor Flitwick tapped the rim of his goblet as he reminisced. "We had a Duelling Club then as well, but it was later shut down for certain reasons. As for the one Lockhart is cobbling together—honestly, I don't want any part of it. It won't go smoothly."
Adrian Wesson nodded thoughtfully.
It seemed Professor Flitwick held quite a prejudice against Lockhart.
Then again, among the entire Hogwarts teaching staff, those who had any fondness for this Defence Against the Dark Arts professor were likely few and far between.
There would be precious few willing to get mixed up in Lockhart's Duelling Club.
In the blink of an eye, Monday arrived.
On his way to class through the courtyard, Adrian unexpectedly ran into Lockhart again.
Only today Lockhart looked full of beans; when he saw Adrian, he didn't show the slightest dislike or impatience.
It was the complete opposite of his frosty attitude a few days ago.
"Professor Wesson!" Lockhart stood by the flowerbed and waved at Adrian, an enthusiastic smile plastered across his face.
Adrian arched a brow at the sight and slowed his steps.
What was Lockhart doing here?
"How fortunate to run into you—what a coincidence, Professor Wesson," Lockhart hurried over, saying as he came, "I was just about to deliver this in person!"
"What is it?"
Before the words had fully left his mouth, Lockhart performed a little sleight of hand, producing from his robe pocket a small gold-edged card and holding it out to Adrian.
"Have a look!" he said, eyes alight. "The Hogwarts Duelling Club—personally founded by me, a seasoned duellist—and I've invited several like-minded professors to instruct alongside me! It's an excellent programme to strengthen the students' magical abilities! You absolutely mustn't miss it!"
Adrian lowered his gaze to accept it. It was a glittering card with a portrait of Lockhart himself printed on the front.
On the card, Lockhart was winking at him, flashing a bright set of teeth.
A chill ran through Adrian.
At the very bottom was a small line: Hogwarts Duelling Club cordially invites you to honour us with your guidance.
After looking it over twice, Adrian handed the card back to Lockhart and said politely, "I hope your club goes well, Professor Lockhart. I have something a bit urgent."
He dipped his head, then immediately turned to leave.
But after only a few steps, Lockhart's hurried voice sounded behind him. "Wait, Professor Wesson!"
Adrian stopped, let out a quiet sigh, and turned his head towards that ever-smiling face.
"I know you're very busy, Professor Wesson," Lockhart quickly caught up, his tone solicitous, "but I sincerely invite you to attend our very first demonstration. Just to watch is fine—even appearing on stage as a guest will make the students terribly excited!"
Adrian frowned and asked, "Have you invited the other professors?"
"Er… of course!" Lockhart's smile faltered for a heartbeat, but he recovered at once. "Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, Professor Snape… I've sent invitations to all of them. This Duelling Club will definitely be useful, Professor Wesson."
Adrian, however, doubted that the professors Lockhart named would accept his invitation and show up to his Duelling Club.
Only last weekend, over drinks, Professor Flitwick had told him he wouldn't be attending Lockhart's Duelling Club.
Should he go and have a look himself?
After a moment's consideration, Adrian decided to accept Lockhart's invitation.
After all, in case there were no reliable professors keeping an eye on the students—and the little witches and wizards were left to follow Lockhart's antics—"All right, I agree," Adrian said with a nod.
"Not going to think it over… ah, you agree," Lockhart seemed caught off guard for a second, then broke into an even more dazzling grin. "Splendid! You won't regret it! You'll witness my unparalleled duelling prowess—an aspect of me I rarely display. Do look forward to it!"
Even now, Lockhart hadn't forgotten to boast about himself.
Some things never change.
"I can hardly wait…" Adrian murmured under his breath.
"What?" Lockhart blinked. "What did you say just now?"
"I said—I can hardly wait." Adrian repeated with a smile, his tone so even it was almost devoid of any discernible emotion.
"Brilliant!" Lockhart exclaimed. "Then I'll list you as a special guest! When the time comes, you and I will stand on stage together, say hello to the students, and then—if you're willing—we can even put on a splendid demonstration duel!"
"That won't be necessary…" Adrian waved a hand.
He had no desire to humour Lockhart like a fool's minder.
The Duelling Club was scheduled for the first Saturday evening of December.
Time soon brought them to the day itself.
At dawn, Harry and Ron were trudging wearily along the first-floor corridor.
Rubbing his reddened eyes, Ron sounded utterly perplexed. "What exactly are we doing? Why have we been traipsing around the castle since three o'clock?"
At three o'clock this morning, Harry had suddenly gotten out of bed, woken Ron, and dragged him to roam about the castle.
By now, it was already breakfast time.
"I heard a voice," Harry explained. "The same as the one I heard on Hallowe'en—you know what happened then. That was when Rai was petrified. I suspect the voice I heard has something to do with it."
Yes—Harry had heard that strange voice again at dawn today.
Ron sighed softly. "But I didn't hear anything at all—you must have been hearing things, or dreaming. I think you should go to the hospital wing and have a look; the potions there could help you sleep better."
Harry shook his head, stubborn. "I definitely heard it."
Though the voice had only appeared for an instant, he was certain he hadn't misheard.
It felt branded into his mind, echoing over and over.
Just then Ron yawned again. "If Hermione finds out we've sneaked out for another night-time wander, she'll really lay into us."
Harry shot Ron a sidelong glance and teased, "You look rather afraid of Hermione."
"Nonsense!"
Ron's eyes went wide with incredulity. "What on earth are you talking about? Why would I be afraid of her? I only think she's a bit of a nuisance sometimes—you know, in Herbology last time…"
"It isn't very gentlemanly to bad-mouth people behind their backs."
A familiar voice sounded from behind them.
Harry and Ron both jumped and turned. Hermione was standing there with her arms folded, smiling faintly.
"H-Hermione!" Ron stammered. "What are you doing here?"
"Oh, I'm on my way to breakfast," Hermione stepped lightly to Ron's side and said cheerfully, "You know I always get up early on weekends, and after that I'm going to the library."
At this point, even if she heard Ron talking about her, Hermione no longer minded.
She knew Ron was a good person and considered her a friend; he simply had a screw loose.
In short, she was used to it.
Seeing that Hermione wasn't bothered at all by what he'd said, Ron let out a breath of relief.
He still remembered how, last term, he'd bad-mouthed Hermione and she'd cried for ages in the girls' bathroom—and run into a troll, too.
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