(Gilderoy Lockhart)
The following day found me teaching my seventh-year class.
Though "my seventh-year class" felt slightly inaccurate today.
There were rather a lot of additional faces scattered around the room.
A handful of students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang had apparently decided to attend my lessons during their stay at Hogwarts. Since visiting students had permission to sit in on whichever classes interested them while the tournament lasted, it seemed my overwhelming popularity had naturally begun crossing international borders.
Entirely understandable.
I straightened slightly, adjusted my robes, and smiled at the room.
"I see we have some new faces today," I announced smoothly.
"Then allow me to introduce myself."
Several Hogwarts students immediately sighed, a few even rolled their eyes.
Ah.
Excellent.
They already knew what was coming.
I spread my arms grandly.
"I am Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, First Class, Official Member of the Dark Force Defence League, eight-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award, Basilisk Slayer, Lord of the newly established Magical House of Lockhart, and of course... Hogwarts' beloved Care of Magical Creatures professor."
I finished with a dazzling smile.
Silence followed.
The foreign students stared at me.
One Durmstrang boy blinked.
Fleur Delacour looked faintly stunned.
Even Ivan Karkaroff raised an eyebrow.
The Hogwarts students looked deeply resigned.
Then suddenly...
Clap.
Clap.
Clap clap clap.
Amidst the silence, someone had begun applauding enthusiastically.
Naturally, the others awkwardly followed a second later.
I bowed elegantly.
"Thank you, Miss Lovegood," I said.
Then I paused.
"But have I not told you before that you should stop sneaking into my classes?"
Luna stood cheerfully near the back of the group, completely unashamed.
"You may always attend with your own year, considering you are already in third year."
Luna smiled serenely. "A single class a week is not enough, Professor."
A few students snorted.
I quickly hid my own smile.
Well...
One could hardly dislike such dedication.
"Very well," I said. "Since you are already here, it would be rather rude of me to throw you out."
I raised my staff.
"Now then, let us begin the…"
"Yes, Miss Lovegood?"
Luna had raised her hand.
She pulled out a small jotter and looked down at it.
"Professor," she said, "now that the Triwizard Tournament is being hosted at Hogwarts, I read a bit about previous tournaments."
She pulled out a quill and prepared to take notes.
How studious.
"I saw that the tournament was cancelled because a cockatrice went on a rampage. I attended all your classes last year, but you never spoke about them."
There's no need to mention that last year she was merely a second year student and shouldn't even have Care of Magical Creatures classes.
She tilted her head slightly. "Can you tell us about cockatrices?"
Several students immediately looked interested, and even those pretending not to care looked interested.
I noticed Beatrice Haywood leaning forward eagerly.
Lucian Bole and Peregrine Derrick stopped whispering to one another.
Fleur folded her arms and watched me with curiosity.
And Ivan...
Ivan simply observed quietly with that same unreadable expression of his.
"Well," I said pleasantly, "since curiosity has struck the class today..."
I tapped my staff once against the ground and a large illusion appeared beside me in midair.
Gasps immediately followed.
A gigantic creature slowly formed itself from shimmering golden light.
At first glance, it resembled an absurdly oversized rooster.
But only at first glance.
It stood nearly dragon-sized.
Scales glimmered beneath patches of feathers.
Its eyes were narrow and predatory.
Its beak opened slightly, revealing rows of sharp fangs hidden inside.
And extending behind it was a long snake-like tail that swayed back and forth lazily.
Several students shifted backward.
"Oh," said Beatrice quietly.
"Oh dear."
"Indeed," I agreed. "Cockatrices are fascinating creatures."
I walked around the illusion slowly.
"They possess naturally high magical resistance, considerable physical strength, and most importantly..." I paused dramatically.
"Their petrifying breath."
The illusion suddenly opened its mouth.
A beam of pale green mist shot across the grounds and struck a nearby tree which instantly transformed into stone.
Several students jumped.
Lucian Bole nearly fell on his behind after tripping on a root.
The illusion vanished a moment later.
"Relax," I said. "Merely visual effects."
Bole cleared his throat loudly. "I wasn't startled."
"Of course not."
I continued walking.
"What many people do not know is that cockatrices are actually related to basilisks."
"In fact..." I smiled.
"They are their offspring."
Hands immediately shot into the air.
Several at once.
I pointed at Elora Dunn.
"But Professor," she said with a confused frown, "how is that possible?"
"Excellent question."
I leaned slightly on my staff.
"As everyone knows, basilisks are artificially created creatures."
I looked around.
"They are made by placing a chicken egg beneath a toad."
Peregrine Derrick blinked. "That sounds ridiculous."
"Oh, it absolutely is."
I nodded.
"But it also requires a ritual, so I strongly advise against attempting it."
A few Slytherin and Durmstrang students slowly lowered their hands.
"The important detail," I continued, "is that basilisks are entirely female."
Fleur blinked. "All of them?"
"All of them."
I nodded.
"And like many reptiles, they also lay eggs. Unfortunately, without a male, those eggs remain unfertilised."
I raised a finger.
"Thus, Herpo the Foul needed a solution."
The illusion returned beside me, this time showing a shady old man placing an enormous egg beneath a hen.
"The answer turned out to be surprisingly simple."
I smiled.
"Place the basilisk egg beneath a hen, perform another ritual, and voilà."
The illusion shifted again, and the giant rooster monster appeared again.
"The first cockatrice."
"Unfortunately for Herpo... he discovered a rather unfortunate flaw in his brilliant plan."
I paused dramatically.
"Parseltongue," I said, "does not work on chickens
And thus one of the most dangerous dark wizards in history died to his own creation."
The illusion cockatrice ate the old man in one fell swoop.
Luna giggled.
Beatrice snorted.
Someone in the back burst out laughing.
Within seconds half the students had joined in.
Even Fleur pressed a hand against her mouth to hide a smile.
Ivan's lips twitched, very slightly, but I'll take it as a win.
…
"Now then," I said, lightly tapping my staff against the ground once more, "let us return to today's lesson."
The cockatrice illusion dissolved into drifting particles of gold.
"Dragons."
Immediately, the students became noticeably quieter.
Even those who had only been half-listening moments ago straightened.
Excellent.
Nothing captured attention quite like dragons.
"Or more precisely…"
I tapped the ground again.
"…the Swedish Short-Snout."
Silvery-blue light erupted from the tip of my staff and gathered in the centre of the clearing.
The foreign students visibly leaned forward as the shape grew larger and larger until an enormous dragon stood in front of them.
Gasps immediately followed.
Its scales gleamed like polished sapphire under the sunlight, each one reflecting pale blue and silver hues. Thin streams of blue flame curled lazily from its nostrils every time it breathed, and smoke drifted upward in elegant spirals.
Its silver eyes slowly opened.
Its massive chest rose and fell.
The illusion was so detailed that one could see individual scales shifting as it breathed.
Fleur's eyes widened.
The girl looked practically enchanted.
One of the Durmstrang students muttered something under his breath in apparent disbelief.
Even Ivan Karkaroff stared at the dragon for a second longer than usual.
I smiled inwardly.
Of course, this lesson was not entirely random.
I had decided some time ago that if I intended to help Harry with the tournament, I would do so without technically helping Harry.
A very important distinction.
I could not openly provide hints, as that would violate tournament rules.
But if I happened to teach all my classes about dragons...
Well.
That was merely education.
If Fleur and Ivan also benefited from it, so be it.
I honestly did not care who won the tournament in the end.
As long as they all survived, I would consider things satisfactory.
I walked slowly around the illusion.
"This dragon," I began, "is native to the uninhabited mountains of Sweden."
The dragon lowered its head and released another plume of blue flames.
Several students instinctively leaned away.
"Among dragon species, Swedish Short-Snouts possess the fewest recorded human kills."
Beatrice raised a hand. "That sounds... surprisingly good?"
I nodded thoughtfully.
"Mm. Until one remembers they live in isolated mountain ranges where humans rarely wander."
Beatrice slowly lowered her hand again. "Oh."
"Oh indeed."
I pointed toward the dragon.
"They may not be the largest species."
I gestured toward its body.
"Nor the strongest physically."
Then I smiled.
"But what they do possess…"
The dragon suddenly opened its mouth.
Blue light gathered in its throat.
Students immediately stiffened.
"…is the hottest dragon fire ever recorded."
FWOOOSH!
Blue flames erupted across the grounds.
Several people yelped.
Lucian Bole outright ran behind a tree.
The flames passed harmlessly through the air before vanishing.
Silence followed.
Then:
"Relax," I said.
Lucian's head came out from behind the tree slowly.
"I wasn't hiding."
"Of course not."
I continued as though nothing had happened.
"Their flames are capable of reducing a human body to ash within seconds."
Several students swallowed.
A few looked slightly pale.
"Elora," I said suddenly.
She looked up in surprise.
"Yes, Professor?"
"If you were forced to fight one, where would you attack?"
She blinked rapidly.
"A dragon?"
"A hypothetical dragon."
She stared at the illusion uncertainly. "The... eyes?"
"Reasonable." I nodded.
"Though dragon eyelids are significantly tougher than most people expect, so you'd have to catch them off-guard."
I turned toward the class.
"Anyone else?"
Fleur raised her hand.
"Yes Miss Delacour?"
"The wings," she said confidently. "A grounded dragon is less dangerous than a flying one."
"Excellent."
I smiled approvingly.
"The wings are vulnerable areas."
Ivan suddenly spoke without raising his hand.
"Though getting close enough to strike them would likely get you killed."
Everyone turned toward him, but he looked entirely unconcerned.
"Also true." I studied him briefly.
Interesting answer.
Very practical.
Very... experienced sounding.
I smiled and turned back toward the class.
"Which is why," I said lightly, "the most effective strategy against a dragon remains remarkably simple."
Students leaned forward.
I pointed at the illusion.
"Run."
Silence.
Then laughter erupted throughout the clearing.
I nodded seriously.
"I assure you, survival statistics support my argument."
…