September 4, 1992.
Friday. The final hurdle before the weekend, and mercifully, my schedule holds only a single morning class. After that, I'll be free until Monday, blessed freedom indeed.
I take a slow sip of my passion-fruit flavored green tea and turn to look at a bleary eyed Aurora, her head tilting dangerously close to her mountain of pancakes.
"Aurora," I murmur, leaning slightly forward in concern, "are you certain you're all right? You look ready to collapse face-first into your breakfast. Shouldn't you be sleeping at this time?"
She blinks at me languidly, eyes hazy and unfocused, a glimmer of golden treacle gliding down from her glazed dark lips all the way to her chin. Without thinking, I swipe it away with my fingertip and bring it to my lips. "Mmm. Tastes divine."
Her eyes go wide as the moment sinks in. "Wa–wa–what are you doing?!"
"Just assisting a friend in need," I reply smoothly with a roguish smirk. "But seriously, you're clearly exhausted."
Aurora places a hand over her chest and exhales, composing herself. "I'm fine. I stayed up stargazing all night and didn't want to sleep on an empty stomach. Though, I suppose I'm way more tired than I thought."
"Once you're finished," I offer, lowering my voice, "allow me to escort you to your quarters. I'd hate for you to fall asleep mid-staircase. My conscience couldn't bear it."
She opens her mouth to protest, but I hush her with a finger to her lips. "Ah-ah-ah. No objections. It's the least I can do for a friend."
Her gaze flicks to my hand, then she surprises me by flicking her tongue against my finger, just enough to leave me momentarily stunned. A spark of mischief dances in her eyes, quickly joined by unmistakable flirtation.
Ah, Gilderoy Lockhart, you incorrigible devil have done it again. Even the stars themselves can't seem to resist your gravity.
…
After accompanying Aurora most of the way up to the Astronomy Tower, I descend to my classroom, arriving just in time to see the last student sit down.
"Wait, professor!" "Don't close the door!" two nearly identical voices call from my back in perfect sequence, making it seem as if the whole sentence was said by a single person.
Of course. The Weasley twins. Gryffindor's twin tempests of chaos and mischief.
I turn around to look at them with an impassive expression that seems to make them squirm. And just when they brace for a scolding, I smile. "Of course, gentlemen. I only just arrived myself. But do try not to make a habit of it, hm?"
They exchange a synchronized sigh of relief. "Of course, professor," says one. "We wouldn't dream of it," echoes the other.
"Splendid." I arch a brow. "Though tell me, which of you is Fred, and which is George? A good teacher should know his pupils, after all."
The twin on my left bows theatrically. "I'm George Weasley, professor."
A casual probe of passive Legilimency, something I've been quietly practicing these past few days, reveals the faintest ripple of deception.
Turns out I have a knack for the mind arts, but this type of legilimency only serves to detect intent, emotions and such, I'm still far away from being able to read minds with a single look.
The other twin mimics his brother's bow. "And I'm Fred, at your service."
"Excellent," I say with a smile as I look at him. "Then if I ever need someone pranked, I'll be sure to call on you, George."
They freeze, exchanging wide-eyed looks. Gotcha. Even their mother can rarely tell them apart, but Gilderoy Lockhart? Please.
"Now come in and take your seats, gentlemen, the class's about to start."
The twins look at each other with clear surprise in their eyes. "Did he really just" "notice our lie?".
…
When everyone's seated, I wave my wand; the curtains snap shut, plunging the classroom into dimness.
"Defence Against the Dark Arts," I declare, letting my voice echo. "As fourth-years, your hearts should be strong enough for what's to come."
A swirl of silvery mist flows from my wand, coalescing into the phantom shape of a hooded figure; a dark wizard, face hidden save for two crimson eyes that gleam like rubies. The class gasps.
I have learnt that illusion magic comes to me as easy as breathing. Who would have guessed that I would be such a natural at using a type of magic that's so connected to lies?
"This," I continue, "is what you may one day face. A true dark wizard shows no mercy, no matter your age or education, so don't think just because you're teens that they wouldn't attack you. As a wise Auror once said…"
I pause to let the silence pervade the room, then roar, "Constant vigilance!"
Half the class jumps; a few tumble off their chairs entirely. Cedric Diggory is among them, cheeks red as he scrambles upright. I resist the urge to laugh and simply nod approvingly.
Fred and George exchange impressed looks, I can practically see the respect forming. Good. I give them a mischievous wink and continue.
"As I was saying, this year you will learn what the real dark arts are capable of doing. But fear not, as this is your first class with me, I have decided to start with something mild: the unforgivable curses."
A ripple of unease travels through the room. "Mild?" someone whispers.
I pretend not to hear. "Who can tell me what they are?"
Cedric hesitates before raising his hand. "There are three unforgivable curses, sir. They are curses so dark that anyone caught using them is sent straight to Azkaban."
"Three points to Hufflepuff. Nearly perfect, I must say. But it's only human targets that make their use a crime. On animals or dummies, it's… frowned upon, but technically legal."
A few students exchange nervous glances at that.
"Now, who can name one?"
"Mr Weasley?" I say, and both twins point to themselves.
"Fred," I clarify and George rises.
"I said Fred, not George."
He freezes mid-step. "Ah, but I am Fred, professor."
I grin. "Nice try, George. But the man who can deceive Gilderoy Lockhart has yet to be born. Now the real Fred, can you answer please?"
Fred chuckles, clearly caught off guard but pleased to answer. "The Imperius Curse, professor. I've heard my Dad mention it before."
"Excellent. Also known as the controlling curse. Your father would know about it, he works in the Ministry, right? During the last war, this curse threw the Ministry into chaos, no one could tell who was serving Voldemort willingly and who was enslaved by the spell."
Gasps ripple through the class at the name.
"Of course, Voldemort's inner circle could be easily identified just by looking at their wrists for the Dark Mark." I see most of the class flinch when I mention the Dark Lord's name again.
"There's no need to fear his name," I begin, but Cedric stands abruptly. "Sir, my father said anyone who spoke You-Know-Who's name was hunted down. That's why people are still afraid."
"Quite right," I say gently. "During his reign, Voldemort,-" another collective flinch, "-placed a Taboo on his own name, a complex spell that revealed the location of anyone who dared speak it. But that enchantment died with him. So unless he rises from the grave, you may relax."
A few nervous chuckles break the tension.
"Now, a fun fact. 'Voldemort'-" I pause to look at the class and am proud to see that about a third of the students did not flinch this time, "-isn't even his real name."
I smile when I see the surprise in their eyes, it's actually quite surprising that most people believed that someone actually named their baby 'Voldemort'.
"This is something almost no one knows, I myself deduced it only thanks to some deep research and help from my brilliant mind."
I conjure fiery letters in the air with the "flagrate" spell: I AM LORD VOLDEMORT. Then with another wave the flames twist and rearrange until they read TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE.
"Yes, an anagram. Quite dramatic, isn't it? He probably invented it as a student, which would explain the adolescent flair. Honestly, 'Flight of Death'? Terribly cringe." I give an exaggerated shiver, and laughter fills the room.
"Let's move on, shall we? We've lingered long enough on the Dork Lord-" more laughter ensues "-and we still have two more curses to cover."
"But professor," "that was so interesting," "we want to know more," George and Fred do their twin speech again as they complain, and I see all the class is looking at me expectantly, also wanting to hear more.
"Unfortunately, we have very little time left, so let's set some time in our next class to continue Tom's story, how about it?"
When they agree I disperse the flames forming Tom's name in the air and something that alarms the students suddenly happens.
The illusion of a dark wizard I had conjured at the start of the class seems to come alive and points its wand in my direction. Then they all hear a raspy voice that gives them shivers coming from under the hood, "Imperio!"
The spell passes through my shield charm as if it wasn't even there. My body freezes, eyes turning glassy. Gasps ring out; someone screams. Lee Jordan shrieked particularly loudly and it sounded suspiciously girly.
"Now torture the pretty boy," hisses the rasping voice.
I try to fight it, but the curse is stronger than my will, my wand raises slowly, and I finally point at Cedric, who looks paralyzed in fear.
"Crucio!" As the red light crashes with his chest, Cedric immediately falls to the ground and his body starts spasming as he screams his throat raw from the pain.
But nobody is trying to help, they're simply frozen in place, not knowing what to do, clearly showing how subpar the instruction they received in the past three years was.
After twenty agonising seconds, I finally stop the curse and Cedric's body goes slack in the ground, his body trembling from the aftereffects, breath ragged.
"Now kill him!" My wand arcs once more, tracing a lightning in the air, the tip glowing green.
"Avada Kedavra!"
A blinding flash, and Cedric falls still.
Horror floods the classroom. A few students sob openly. Fred and George rush forward, but the moment they reach him, sunlight floods through the suddenly opened curtains.
"And that," I announce cheerfully, "concludes our demonstration of the Unforgivable Curses."
The dark wizard dissolves into mist. Cedric blinks, sits up, and sheepishly waves to the stunned class.
"I'm fine," he assures them. "It was an act."
Tears turn to relieved laughter; others slump in disbelief.
"As Mr Diggory said, a performance, I requested his help and we prepared this just yesterday, but I got to say it came out better than expected," I explained, brushing imaginary dust from my sleeve. "My apologies for the shock, but I wanted you to feel the terror these spells inspire. Theory alone isn't enough, you need to take them seriously."
The Slytherins scowl at being tricked, the Ravenclaws look intrigued by the magic used, Hufflepuffs relieved that their friend was fine, and the Gryffindors were pretending they weren't seconds away from fainting.
Fred and George, however, beam at me in pure admiration. Their eyes practically sparkle. For the first time, they've met a professor who can prank better than they can. And they would have never expected someone like good boy Cedric to be part of a prank either.
…
(Please support with power stones, comments or reviews. You can subscribe to my Patreon /mysterion901 to read 10 advanced chapters as well 🐧)