Erwin smirked. "Is that so? What a pity! In that case, let our Slytherin student set the example."
Without giving Lockhart a chance to respond, he added, "Cassandra, step up. Let Professor Lockhart offer you some 'tutelage'!"
Cassandra nodded and strode onto the dueling platform.
Lockhart exhaled in relief as she approached. Though he knew she was Slytherin's new Hidden Prefect among the first-years, he dismissed her as just a ten-year-old girl. Not everyone could match Erwin Cavendish's prowess.
Unseen by most, Snape had already slipped beside Erwin. "Godfather, got time for a show?" Erwin asked.
Snape's lips twitched faintly. "I rather enjoy these spectacles."
Erwin grinned, and the other Slytherins watched Cassandra with eager anticipation.
Across the platform, Harry Potter, Hermione, and Draco clustered together.
"Why send a first-year up there?" Harry whispered.
Draco leaned in, voice low. "Don't underestimate her. She's fierce—the Headmaster says she's on par with third- and fourth-years. Watch; Lockhart's about to regret this."
Hermione nodded. "I've heard Slytherins talking. She earned her spot as Hidden Prefect by winning over a dozen challenges—no connections, just raw skill."
Harry's eyes widened. "A dozen? And she took them all?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Obviously. How else does a first-year claim that title in Slytherin?"
As they spoke, Cassandra and Lockhart faced off.
"Relax, child," Lockhart said with a wink. "I won't harm a hair on your head."
Cassandra's eyes gleamed with contempt. "Then thanks, Professor."
Pleased by her deference, Lockhart beamed. "No thanks needed—it's my duty! Now, bow."
They bowed, then stepped back.
Lockhart struck a dramatic pose. "One, two, three!"
The scene unfolded predictably. Cassandra flicked her wand. "Expelliarmus!"
Lockhart soared backward in a perfect arc, slamming into the platform with a thud.
Erwin tsked. That had to sting.
Lockhart lay dazed. How could a first-year girl disarm him so effortlessly? His back throbbed as if it'd shatter; this was his second tumble in minutes. He winced, struggling to rise.
"Cassandra," Erwin called, "Professor Lockhart was going easy on you. Thank him properly."
She dipped a slight bow toward the groaning professor. "Thank you, Professor Lockhart."
Lockhart's mouth twitched. Forcing a grin, he rasped, "You're welcome. Not bad at all, Cassandra—a sharp Disarming Charm! Impressive for your age. I took it on purpose, of course, to let you shine."
Cassandra snorted softly and exited the platform.
Lockhart hauled himself up, about to speak, when Erwin cut in. "Pansy, your turn. Give Professor Lockhart a go."
Pansy's eyes lit with misPatriarch as she advanced.
Panic flashed across Lockhart's face. If every Slytherin Hidden Prefect got a shot, he'd be pummeled senseless. Cassandra alone hinted at their caliber—outrageous for students.
"Wait, Erwin," he blurted. "Your Hidden Prefects are already formidable! Why not let someone else have a turn?"
Erwin's smile widened. He'd expected a few more flights before Lockhart folded, but one sufficed. The quicker this ended, the better.
"Fair point, Professor. So, who wants to volunteer against him?"
The Slytherins surged forward, wands at the ready. Beating a hapless professor wasn't an everyday thrill.
Lockhart gulped. Choosing? He scanned the crowd, weighing options. Sixth- or seventh-years? No chance—he'd be trounced. Third-years seemed risky after his string of embarrassments. Second-years? Erwin hailed from there, and they'd likely mimic his tricks.
First-years it was, then. Humiliating, but safer. He could reclaim some dignity against a novice.
His gaze swept the youngest group, landing on a boy he could point at randomly for an easy win.
But then he spotted Cassandra nearby, her stare chilling him anew. These first-years brimmed with fire—who knew what hidden talents lurked?
Lockhart despaired. He hadn't crossed Erwin at all. Why this torment?
A peripheral movement caught his eye: a figure skulking behind the crowd, looking timid and ripe for the picking.
Perfect. "You there, lad! No need to hide—weakness is no barrier. With my guidance, you'll soar!"
All eyes turned. The other houses shrugged indifferently, but the Slytherins erupted in smirks, their amusement toward Lockhart palpable.
He'd singled out Zoe Alva.
They recalled Zoe's clash with Cassandra at term's start—the near-upset, that startling skill. Unforgettable.
Zoe blinked, pointing at herself in shock. "Me?"
...
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