92: Chapter 92 Lockhart's First Lesson

"I won't go in."

Draco blocked the entrance to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, his face full of resistance.

"I would rather go count the remaining slug mucus for Flint."

Inside the door came the sound of Lockhart's laughter; the walls were covered with his signed photos, and the blond man in the photos kept blinking, his white teeth dazzling.

Crabbe stared for a long time and asked in a low voice: "Won't he get dizzy from the flash of his own teeth?"

Zabini walked by holding a book.

"If teeth counted as combat power, he would have already defeated Lord Voldemort."

Draco looked at Allen.

"Did you hear that? Even Zabini cannot stand it."

Allen held Break with a Banshee, his eyelids half-lowered.

"Go in."

"Why?"

"Watching how a swindler deceives people counts as a lesson."

Nott opened his notebook.

"Lockhart talked to Dumbledore alone for forty minutes last night. The stone gargoyle at the entrance to the Headmaster's Office opened twice; the second time was Professor McGonagall going in to deliver documents."

Allen raised his eyes.

"Reason?"

"No one heard. The portraits only said Lockhart was happy when he left, while Dumbledore looked even more tired."

Draco sneered.

"Being able to talk Dumbledore into exhaustion, he is actually quite capable."

The classroom door opened, and Lockhart stood in front of the podium, his bright blue robes blinding.

He clapped his hands to signal for silence, his smile as standard as if it had been practiced a hundred times.

"Dear students, welcome back to Hogwarts. This year, you will see the true art of Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Draco sat two rows away, barely fulfilling Lucius's requirement to keep his distance, but immediately threw a look of anticipation at Allen.

Allen opened his book. Hermione was sitting in the front row with a full set of Lockhart's works on her desk, while Ron rolled his eyes beside her.

Lockhart picked up the attendance roster.

"Before we officially begin, let's take a little quiz to see how familiar you are with my works."

Ron muttered in a low voice.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts or a fan meeting?"

The test papers were handed out. The questions ranged from Lockhart's favorite color to how he celebrated the anniversary of banishing the Wagga Wagga Werewolf, having nothing to do with Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Draco stared at the paper, his face looking worse than a ruined Potion.

He asked across two rows: "What is his favorite color?"

Allen did not look up.

"Mirror color."

Nott coughed, and Zabini shook with laughter in the back row.

Draco gritted his teeth and wrote down 'bright blue'.

After Lockhart collected the papers, he specifically praised Hermione for getting a perfect score.

Hermione's cheeks flushed, Ron slumped over his desk pretending to be dead, and Harry, sandwiched in between, was so embarrassed he wanted to disappear.

Lockhart walked over to the large cage behind the podium.

"Now, the real challenge begins."

A shrill scratching sound came from under the cage cloth.

Allen's fingertips rested on the edge of the book page, his Spatial Perception sweeping over the cage, confirming it was full of Cornish pixies—quite a few of them, and very energetic.

Lockhart smiled mysteriously.

"Do not be afraid. They are just a bunch of little guys I just caught. They will let you experience real combat in the classroom."

Draco's face changed.

"He is not going to…"

Lockhart lifted the cloth.

The blue pixies rushed out of the cage, pounced on the chandelier, tugged on Neville's ears, snatched Ron's quill, and even grabbed Lockhart's sleeves, dragging him upward.

The classroom turned into chaos.

Lockhart raised his wand.

"Silence! Do not panic!"

Golden sparks erupted from the tip of his wand, grazing his own photo on the wall and scorching the frame black.

Draco lowered his head to dodge a pixie, but his tie was snatched by another.

Crabbe reached out to grab one, only to have his ear tugged in return.

Goyle swung his book, smashing an empty desk, and an ink bottle almost tipped over.

Draco shielded his hair and cursed: "Is this his Defense Against the Dark Arts? My family's peacocks know how to fight better than him!"

A pixie holding a metal cage latch threw it at Allen.

The iron bolt flew over two rows of desks, heading straight for his temple.

Allen pressed his fingertips against the edge of the book page, using Spatial Displacement to slide it through the air.

The iron bolt grazed him by half a foot and smashed into the back of an empty chair nearby.

To others, his movement looked like he was just turning a page.

Nott looked at the iron bolt, then at Allen's fingertips, and immediately lowered his head.

Draco was too busy trying to get his tie back.

"You are quite relaxed!"

Allen turned a page.

"Do not make noise in class."

Another pixie pounced on Hermione's hair.

Hermione stood up and waved her wand.

"Immobulus!"

The blue pixie fell from mid-air into the ink.

She cast spells in succession, knocking out the pixies above Ron's head, beside Neville's ear, and on the curtains one by one.

The movements were not flashy, but they were effective.

Lockhart finally got rid of the pixies, immediately straightened his cuffs, and clapped loudly.

"Very good. Miss Granger has already grasped my teaching intent. Courage and reaction—that is the key!"

Ron was covered in ink.

"Was his teaching intent to let us get bitten?"

Lockhart announced ten points to Gryffindor, and jeers erupted from the Slytherin long table.

The bell rang, and students scrambled to leave.

Lockhart was still at the door chatting and laughing with a few girls, as if everything that had just happened was a stage performance.

Draco could not suppress his anger the moment he left the classroom.

"A fraud, a total fraud. I am going to write to my father. Hogwarts' Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor this year cannot even handle a cage of pixies."

Allen stuffed his book into his bag.

"Do not write."

"Why? This guy will get students killed."

"If you openly offend a Professor, I do not know if Lockhart will die, but you will definitely lose points first."

Allen stopped by the window and looked at the students moving downstairs.

"More troublesome is that he talked to Dumbledore for forty minutes."

"A fraud sitting in the Defense Against the Dark Arts position has its own purpose."

Zabini followed slowly.

"The purpose might be to let us discover that Quirrell at least knew how to use magic last year."

Draco was so angry he laughed.

"You are starting to miss Quirrell?"

"At least he did not use his autobiography for tests."

Nott closed his notebook.

"Lockhart is not the point. The point is why Dumbledore tolerates him."

Allen looked at him.

Nott said in a low voice: "The Board of Governors is pressuring Dumbledore this year. Lucius has participated in two small meetings."

"Lockhart is famous, and the pure-blood parents cannot find fault with him for the time being."

"If a safety accident occurs at school, the responsibility will fall on Dumbledore for poor hiring."

Draco's face darkened.

"You are implying my father again."

"I am talking about the Board of Governors."

Nott raised his eyes.

"The Malfoy Family just happens to be on it."

Draco gripped his bag strap, then let go.

He looked at Allen, as if waiting for a denial.

Allen only asked: "What happened on the second floor last night?"

Nott handed over a small note.

"Moaning Myrtle was crying loudly in the restroom, saying someone dropped a book into the sink and then picked it up."

"She did not see the face clearly, only saying the other person was a girl, and her hands were shaking violently."

Draco blurted out.

"Ginny?"

Allen glanced at him.

Draco immediately shut up, pressing his tongue back into his throat.

Zabini raised an eyebrow, clearly satisfied with his progress.

At the other end of the corridor, Hermione came walking over, hugging her books.

She did not have Harry and Ron with her; her hair was messed up by the pixies and had not been tidied yet.

She saw Allen and the others and slowed her pace.

Draco instinctively wanted to sneer, but was stopped by a glance from Allen, so he had to swallow the words.

Hermione stopped three steps away.

"The iron bolt almost hit you just now."

Allen looked at her.

"Thanks for the reminder."

"You dodged quickly."

Hermione said.

"It was the same with the Troll last year; some things are too coincidental."

The air tightened.

Nott lowered his eyes, Zabini put away his smile, and Draco's face sank.

Allen closed his book.

"When there are too many coincidences, it is called Hogwarts daily life."

Hermione stared at him.

"Do you know about the Chamber of Secrets?"

Draco's breathing missed a beat.

Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other, not understanding how the topic jumped here.

Allen's expression did not change.

"I have heard the legends."

"Do you think the legends are true?"

"The Castle has a Cerberus, moving staircases, and a Professor who releases pixies for practical combat."

"Adding one more legend would not make it crowded."

Hermione did not smile.

She hugged her books tighter and said in a low voice: "Someone sent me a piece of parchment with 'Chamber of Secrets', 'Heir of Slytherin', 'Girls Bathroom', and 'Parseltongue' written on it."

"You Slytherins have been spreading it recently too."

Draco almost lost his composure.

Allen did not look at him, only at Hermione's hand pressing on the spine of the book.

She had already bitten onto the clue.

"Then you should go look up books."

"I will."

Hermione took half a step back.

"Also, I will keep an eye on the second floor."

She turned and left.

Draco waited until she was far away before cursing in a low voice: "Is she crazy? Why would a Gryffindor hang around the second floor?"

"Because she is better at investigating clues than you."

Allen walked toward the stairs.

Draco's face turned black.

"Can you not step on me for one day?"

Zabini patted his shoulder.

"Cannot, that is his way of staying sober."

Nott followed by Allen's side.

"The anonymous clue worked, but Hermione is starting to suspect you."

"She suspects everyone who speaks without being stupid."

"Then she will rule out Draco first."

Draco said angrily from behind: "Nott!"

Allen did not look back.

In his Portable Space, the Void raised its head, its silver pupils shrinking into thin lines.

A sliding sound came from deep within the Castle walls, sweeping obliquely past from the basement and heading toward the second floor.

It was not a pixie, not a portrait, and not a student.

It was a giant creature moving along the pipes.

Allen stopped at the top of the stairs.

The staircase turned just in time, the stone steps carrying them away from the second floor, and the movement inside the walls faded away, leaving only a cold trace on the spatial level.

Draco asked in a low voice: "What is it again?"

Allen looked toward the end of the second-floor corridor.

"Do not leave the Dungeon tonight."