Chapter 94: The First Judgment
Hermione raised her hand in embarrassment. When she got the test paper, she couldn't help wanting to know her score—and her memory was simply too good. She knew all of Lockhart's preferences. Now that he seemed more and more like a fraud, she felt her behavior was rather humiliating.
"Very good, very good—ten points to Gryffindor!" Lockhart beamed, flashing his dazzling white teeth. To him, Hermione's embarrassment was just shyness. He found the girl even more endearing.
Hearing she had earned another ten points, Hermione's eyes lit up immediately. The points she had gained today already matched what she usually earned in an entire week. Her mood improved at once. Whether Lockhart was lying or not, those ten points were undeniably real.
Lockhart bent down and pulled out a large cage covered with a cloth from behind his desk, placing it on the table.
"Now, be very careful. I am about to teach you how to defend yourselves against the most evil and terrifying creatures known to the wizarding world. You will face something truly dreadful today. But don't worry—so long as I am here, you will be safe. Just remain calm."
His deep, dramatic voice made everyone tense. The students craned their necks and leaned forward to look at the cage. Hermione held her breath, wondering what was inside.
"I must ask you not to scream," Lockhart said solemnly, leaning over the cage. "Screaming will only provoke them."
The entire class held their breath as Lockhart pulled back the cloth.
"Excellent!" he cried theatrically. "Freshly caught Cornish pixies!"
Seamus Finnigan snorted with laughter, and many others wanted to laugh too, but only he couldn't hold it in. Even Hermione now looked at Lockhart as if he were a fraud.
"What's the matter?" Lockhart smiled at Seamus.
"Well… they're not really… not very dangerous," Seamus said, though he was already laughing so hard he could barely speak.
"Don't underestimate them," Lockhart said irritably, wagging a finger. "They are devilishly cunning little fiends!"
The pixies were a vivid electric blue, about eight inches tall, with sharp little faces and shrill voices, like a flock of squabbling parrots. As soon as the cloth was removed and they saw the light, they began screeching and darting about, clawing at the cage and struggling to escape.
"Now," Lockhart called out, "let's see how you handle them!" And he opened the cage.
The moment it was opened, chaos erupted.
The pixies burst out, zipping wildly around the room. They were like giant fleas, bouncing and darting with incredible speed. Ceiling, chandeliers, walls—they could cling anywhere, even lying flat against surfaces.
They weren't just venting excess energy—they were causing havoc. Two vicious pixies grabbed Neville Longbottom by the ears and hoisted him into the air.
Harry quickly snatched up Lockhart's book Gilderoy Lockhart's Guide to Household Pests and smacked at the pixies, managing to free Neville. But more pixies swarmed out—some even smashed through the windows, leaving shattered glass everywhere.
The remaining pixies wreaked havoc in the classroom. They darted about at incredible speed, knocking things over and attacking people. They grabbed ink bottles and splashed them everywhere, tore books and papers into pieces until they fluttered through the air like snow.
Even the posters on the walls weren't spared, and the trash bins were overturned, rubbish scattered everywhere. Fortunately, this was a Defense Against the Dark Arts class and not Potions, so nothing truly dangerous was involved.
Schoolbags and books were flung out the windows. In less than a minute, half the class had taken cover under desks, trembling in fear.
"Come on, round them up! Round them up!" Lockhart shouted hoarsely. He had completely lost control. This was nothing like he had imagined.
He had pictured the pixies harmlessly scampering around the floor while students took turns catching them. He had meant to give a light, entertaining lesson—but everything had gone terribly wrong.
Rolling up his sleeves, he waved his wand and shouted, "Peskipiksi Pesternomi!" But he clearly mispronounced the spell—it had no effect at all. A pixie swooped in, snatched his wand, and threw it out the window.
Terrified, Lockhart ducked under his desk. A flower-shaped chandelier was shaken loose by the pixies and crashed down onto the table. He curled up beneath the desk, trembling.
The bell rang, and the students fled as if escaping for their lives. Lockhart also crept out, glanced at Harry, Ron, and Hermione—who were still near the door—and hurried past them, saying, "I need to prepare for my next class. Please put the remaining pixies back into the cage." Then he slammed the door behind him.
"And you still think he's not a fraud?" Ron shouted angrily. Lockhart had caused the mess and left them to clean it up. He drew his wand and fired a spell, knocking a pixie to the ground.
"Alright, can't I admit I was wrong?" Hermione said. She had no excuses left to convince herself that Lockhart was a powerful wizard. She flicked her wand, casting freezing spells one after another, immobilizing the pixies before picking them up and stuffing them back into the cage.
"He was terrified—he didn't even know how to cast a proper spell and got disarmed by a pixie!"
Harry felt a bit strange. He had always thought Lockhart was a fraud, but he never imagined he would be weaker than a second-year student. For a wizard, that was truly embarrassing. Harry cast binding spells one after another, tossing the stunned pixies back into the cage.
"I bet everything in his books is hearsay. With skills like that, he wouldn't have survived long if those adventures were real," Ron said, suddenly realizing how much stronger he himself had become. The other students had fled, even the teacher had run away, yet the three of them handled the pixies with ease.
"Maybe it's because we've read the books. I was scared at first, but I didn't expect them to be this easy to deal with," Harry said as he threw the last few pixies into the cage and shut it. Only then did he realize they were actually quite manageable. He had even dealt with the worst troublemakers in the class.
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