The following week was honestly the worst that Harry could remember in a long time, not only due to the fact that Luna seemed to avoid Harry at all costs; but also because Rhea had informed him that, according to Dobby, her father planned to "Unleash dark magic on Hogwarts that would end with Harry hopefully dead and Dumbledore disgraced."
Immediately, Harry had gone to Dumbledore with the information in the hope of stopping whatever the Malfoy Patriarch had planned, but unfortunately, Dumbledore had informed Harry that without further information, there was nothing the aged headmaster could do but keep a close eye on the school. Sirius and Molly were of a different mind, however, wanting instead to march on Malfoy Manor and beat Lucius to within an inch of his life until he told them what he was planning; this plan was quickly put to rest when Dumbledore informed the pair that such action would undoubtedly lead to their incarceration in Azkaban.
Rhea was also nearly apoplectic at her father's actions that not only would put the school in danger but could potentially harm her brother and friends, all because of her father's inability to tolerate any other opinion but his own. Rhea had even taken Draco aside and told him what their father had done, something that had horrified the boy. Draco had immediately agreed to keep an eye out as well, though he had mumbled about doing it for no other reason than to protect the Malfoy name from his father's idiocy.
As Harry and his friends entered the Great Hall for breakfast, Harry began scanning the nearby Ravenclaw table for Luna, spotting her a moment later, sitting by herself at the far end of the table, eating alone with a sad expression.
Swallowing his nervousness, Harry strode to his friend while Ron and Hermione took their seats at the Gryffindor table, realizing without words that Harry needed to speak to Luna alone; as Harry approached, Luna raised her eyes from her plate to look at Harry, her expression going from sad to heartbroken, something that felt like a knife in the gut to Harry.
"Hey, Luna," Harry said in a soft voice; after a few seconds of silence, when Luna didn't respond back, Harry swallowed again and continued, "Can I talk to you? Please?"
For a moment, Harry thought Luna would deny his request and steadied his nerves for such an outcome. Still, after a moment of silence in which Luna simply stared at Harry with an intensity that unnerved him, Luna finally nodded at him to sit down with her.
After taking a deep breath, Harry took a seat across from Luna as she once again took an interest in her breakfast as the other Ravenclaws glared at them from further down the table.
"I wanted to apologize to you, Luna," Harry said softly, causing the girl's head to shoot up in surprise, "I know I hurt you, and I am so sorry! The gateway to the platform sealed itself for some reason. Ron and I couldn't get through! We had to have Mum give us a ride to Hogwarts."
Harry held his breath as he watched Luna silently stare at him for a moment,
"You mean you didn't abandon me?" Luna asked in a small voice as a tear ran down her cheek.
"Luna, I would never abandon you!" Harry cried in shock, "You're one of my best friends!"
Before Harry could adequately figure out what was happening, Luna jumped onto the table and tackled him in a hug that sent Harry crashing from the bench onto the floor with a sobbing girl holding onto him.
As Harry stared down at the little girl who was sobbing into his shirt, he noticed that the rest of the Great Hall was staring at the two of them; growling in annoyance, Harry turned his hair fiery-red and his eyes as black as coal, so that he resembled a monster before he snarled at his audience,
"What are all of you staring at?! Go back to your own business!"
As the watching crowd quickly returned to their food, Harry turned his appearance back to normal before focusing on Luna, who seemed to be regaining control of herself and had gone from sobbing to sniffling into his shirt.
"I'm sorry," Luna sniffled, "I should have known you wouldn't abandon me…."
"Never," Harry promised as he hugged the small girl, "I'll always be here for you."
As careful as he could, Harry extracted himself from Luna's hug before rising to his feet and helping Luna to hers.
"Now, how has your first week at Hogwarts been?" Harry asked as he and Luna sat back down on the bench, "Are you enjoying your classes?"
Instantly, Luna's head drooped again, and she sniffled slightly before answering,
"I like my classes well enough; charms are proving to be just as amazing as mummy told me it would be…."
"But?" Harry asked,
"I don't think my housemates like me very much," Luna said sadly, "And the Nargles aren't helping either…."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, very much used to Luna's way of thinking by now, "What are the Nargles up to?"
"They keep stealing my things!" Luna sniffed, "I thought my Butterbeer necklace would keep them away, but I guess it's not working."
Instantly, Harry's hair began to turn red, and a slight growl issued forth from his throat as he turned to stare at a few of the girls who were listening in without appearing to do so. While Harry truly loved Luna, he didn't really believe in the creatures she did, having seen no proof of said creatures despite Luna's many assurances of their existence. As far as Harry was concerned, the reality was most likely that some of Luna's roommates had taken her things as a sort of bullying tactic, something that Harry would not allow to continue.
"Would you excuse me for a moment, Luna?" Harry asked in a tight voice before rising from the bench and walking toward the girls as Luna watched, bemused.
As Harry approached the girls, he could tell that they were nervous about something, thus confirming his suspicions that these were the ones responsible for his friend's misery; with a low growl, Harry slammed his hand onto the table, causing the girls to turn to him with scared looks on their faces.
Leaning on the table and talking low to avoid being overheard, Harry spoke with all the anger he was currently feeling.
"I know what you all have been doing, and it stops now!"
"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, Potter!" One of the girls, a pretty blonde, spat back, though Harry couldn't help but hear the tremor in her voice.
"I think you know EXACTLY what I'm talking about, and my name is Weasley!" Harry growled back as he leaned further over the table, "Now, Luna may be too polite to call you on what you're doing, but I can assure you I am not. So, everything you've stolen from Luna will be returned by dinner tonight, and then you are to stay away from her. Is that understood?"
"And if we refuse?" another girl, this one with soft red hair, sneered,
"Then I'll make you…" Harry growled dangerously, making his eyes turn into cat slits as emphasis, which caused the three girls to gulp as one, "Make no mistake ladies, Luna is my friend and therefore under MY protection, and I will not allow three bullies to make her life miserable just for a laugh. Am I understood?"
Another gulp was shared by the three girls before they nodded as one, making Harry sneer at them again.
"You have until dinner, then we'll see how much YOU enjoy being pranked. And I promise that if you push me to it, the lesson will be sure to stick."
Without another word, Harry rose to his feet and walked back to where Luna was watching with curiosity; taking his seat next to her, Harry wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder,
"I think the Nargles have learned their lesson," Harry said with a warm smile, "Your things should be returned by dinner tonight, but let me know if that's not the case, okay?"
"Okay, Harry," Luna said softly, a slight blush taking over her cheeks, "And thank you."
"You don't have to thank me, Luna," Harry smiled, "That's what friends are for, after all, and you and I will always be friends. So, would you like to come and have breakfast with us at the Gryffindor table? I can introduce you to a few new people if you want, and I know Ginny would enjoy the company."
Luna's face instantly split into a dazzling smile as she nodded before the two of them rose and made their way to Gryffindor's table; already, Luna was planning on telling Tom that he was right the first chance she got. Harry didn't hate her, after all.
XXXX
Standing outside the Potions classroom, Harry gulped nervously, his bright blue hair diminishing slightly as he waited alongside the rest of the class for Snape to arrive; the reason for his sudden nervousness was due to the fact that Harry had forgotten to apologize to Professor Snape for suspecting him of trying to steal the Philosophers Stone the previous Year, something that Harry wanted to fix as soon as possible.
When Snape finally did arrive, he seemed to act with a cool indifference towards Harry that made the boy feel even worse, if that was possible; throughout the class, Snape seemed to only look at Harry once and took twenty points from Gryffindor due to Neville melting his cauldron again.
When class finally ended, Harry told Ron and Hermione that he would meet them in the Great Hall for lunch and to go ahead without him; left alone, Harry slowly approached the Potions Professor, who was sitting at his desk and looking at some paperwork.
"Um… Professor?" Harry said softly, causing Snape to look up at him with a surprised expression,
"Yes, Mr. Weasley?" Snape drawled, "Is there something you require?"
"Taking a breath to calm his nerves, Harry shifted nervously from foot to foot before answering,
"Yes, sir, I wanted to apologize for suspecting you of trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone last Year. My friends saw…." Harry took another steadying breath as he tried to say Quirrell's name; though the therapy had helped, it was still too much for Harry to say Quirrell's name, "They saw someone cursing my broom during the Quidditch match last year and thought it was you trying to hurt me. They didn't see the other person who was actually responsible."
For a moment, Snape stared down his nose at Harry, causing the boy to shift nervously from foot to foot again.
"Tell me, Mr. Weasley," Snape asked softly, clasping his hands together and placing them on the desk before him, "Have I ever made you feel unsafe in my presence?"
"No sir,"
"Then why would you believe that I would try to throw you from your broom?"
"I…. I don't know, sir. I shouldn't have," Harry answered, unable to take his gaze off his feet,
"No, you shouldn't have, Mr. Weasley," Snape replied silkily, "Assumptions without evidence often lead to embarrassment, as I'm sure you're now aware."
"Yes sir," Harry replied guiltily, "And I am so sorry for that, so can you forgive me?"
For a moment, Snape was silent, simply staring at Harry as though lost in thought,
"You continue to surprise me, Mr. Weasley…" Snape purred,
"In what way?" Harry asked in bemusement.
"Your father…" Snape said softly, "Your birth father, I mean, was a very cruel man to me. And throughout all seven years of my time here at Hogwarts, he never once apologized for all the vile things he did to me. Whereas you are here apologizing for something that wasn't even your fault. It shows how truly unlike James Potter you are."
"Well, that's because I'm a Weasley," Harry replied softly, making Snape's lips tremble for a moment,
"Indeed you are, Mr. Weasley," Snape replied softly, "Very well, then. I accept your apology."
"You do?" Harry asked happily,
"Indeed, now I think you should head to lunch," Snape smirked.
"Yes, sir!" Harry said happily before turning on his heel and rushing from the room, leaving a smirking Snape behind him.
XXXX
"What've we got this afternoon?" Harry asked as he sat at Gryffindor's table beside Hermione and Ron.
"Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione at once.
"Why," demanded Ron, seizing her schedule, "have you got smiley faces over every lesson?"
Hermione snatched the schedule back, blushing furiously.
They finished lunch and went outside into the overcast courtyard. Hermione sat down on a stone step and buried her nose in Voyages with Vampires again. Harry and Ron stood talking about Quidditch for several minutes before Harry became aware that he was being closely watched. Looking up, he saw the petite, mousy-haired boy he'd seen trying on the Sorting Hat last night, staring at Harry as though transfixed. He was clutching what looked like an ordinary Muggle camera, and the moment Harry looked at him, he went bright red.
"All right, Harry? I'm… I'm Colin Creevey," he said breathlessly, taking a tentative step forward. "I'm in Gryffindor, too. D'you think… would it be all right if… can I have a picture?" he said, raising the camera hopefully.
"A picture?" Harry repeated blankly.
"So I can prove I've met you," said Colin Creevey eagerly, edging further forward. "I know all about you. Everyone's told me. About how you survived when You-Know-Who tried to kill you and how he disappeared and everything and how you've still got a lightning scar on your forehead" (his eyes raked Harry's hairline) "and a boy in my dormitory said if I develop the film in the right potion, the pictures will move." Colin drew a great shuddering breath of excitement and said, "It's amazing here, isn't it? I never knew all the odd stuff I could do was magic until I got Hogwarts's letter. My dad's a milkman; he couldn't believe it either. So, I'm taking loads of pictures to send home to him. And it'd be excellent if I had one of you"—he looked imploringly at Harry— "Maybe your friend could take it, and I could stand next to you? And then, could you sign it?"
"Signed photos? You're giving out signed photos, Potter?"
Loud and scathing, Blaise Zabini's voice echoed around the courtyard, causing everyone to turn to him as he strode confidently towards Harry's group; behind the pale Slytherin, two older classmates were following with sneers on their faces.
"Everyone, line up!" Blaise roared to the crowd, "Potter's giving out signed photographs!"
"One!" Harry snarled back, his fists clenching, "My name is Weasley! I don't know how many bloody times I have to say it before you idiots get it through your thick skulls! And two! I am NOT giving out signed photos, so bugger off!"
"Harry! Language!" Hermione cried out, "There are children here!"
"We're children, Hermione," Ron countered with a grin; Hermione turned and gave Ron a scowl, making the boy redden and go silent.
"You're just jealous!" Colin piped up, making Harry wince internally at the small first Year as Blaise sneered back.
Jealous?" said Blaise, who didn't need to shout anymore: Half the courtyard was listening in. "Of what? I don't want a foul scar right across my head, thanks. I don't think getting your head cut open makes you that special, myself."
"You're right," Ron sneered back, quick to defend his brother, "It's more special to be known as the son of a murderer."
Instantly, all noise seemed to stop as Blaise turned pale with anger at Ron's words,
"What did you just say?" Blaise hissed with rage, his body beginning to shake,
"What?" Ron asked with a sneer, "Isn't it true that your mother has been married seven times and that all seven have died rather mysteriously not long afterward, leaving her significantly richer than before?"
"Those were not her fault!" Blaise snarled, "My mother is not a murderer!"
"Popular opinion would say otherwise, Zabini," Ron smirked, causing the boy to grow even angrier; quick as a flash, Blaise went for his wand, only for Harry to lunge forward and grab the Slytherin's shirt with one hand as he pulled the other back to punch Blaise.
"What's all this, what's all this?" Gilderoy Lockhart was striding toward them, his turquoise robes swirling behind him. "Who's giving out signed photos?"
Harry started to speak but was cut short as Lockhart flung an arm around his shoulders and thundered jovially, "Shouldn't have asked! We meet again, Harry!"
Pinned to Lockhart's side and burning with humiliation, Harry saw Blaise slide smirking back into the crowd.
"What are YOU doing here?" Harry asked in horror as Lockhart flashed his damnable smile again,
"Why, I would have thought word would have reached you by now, my boy!" Lockhart smiled back, "I'm your new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor!"
"What?!" Harry, Hermione, and Ron shrieked as one,
"We've been here a week. How is this the first time we've heard about this?" Hermione asked in an awed voice,
"I had my class sworn to secrecy, of course," Lockhart winked, again flashing his smile for all to see.
"Come on then, Mr. Creevey," said Lockhart, beaming at Colin. "A double portrait can't do better than that, and we'll both sign it for you."
"I would advise against that, Professor," Harry said softly as Colin fumbled for his camera, "You remember what happened the last time you tried something like this, do you not?"
Instantly, Lockhart paled as he remembered what happened with Sirius in Flourish & Blotts,
"Actually, perhaps we should do this another time," Lockhart stammered as he quickly released his hold on Harry, much to Colin's bemusement, "I'll see you in class, then, Mr. Potter."
"Weasley!" Harry snapped, his already fraying temper beginning to come loose at the thought of a year with Lockhart,
"Right…. Of course," Lockhart stammered, "My apologies, Mr. Weasley.
Without another word, Lockhart spun on his heel and quickly sped away as the crowd watched with confusion,
"What did you say to him?" Ron asked with a smile,
"I told him that I would sick Sirius on him if he didn't let go," Harry laughed, followed a few moments later by Ron.
XXXX
When lunch finally ended, Harry made sure to sit at the desk at the back of the class, where he busied himself with piling all seven of Lockhart's books in front of him so that he could avoid looking at the real thing, a few moments later, the rest of the class came clattering in. Hermione and Ron took a seat on either side of him.
Lockhart cleared his throat loudly when the whole class was seated, and silence fell. Then, he reached forward, picked up Neville Longbottom's copy of Travels with Trolls, and held it up to show his own winking portrait on the front.
"Allow Me to introduce you all to your new Defense Against the Dark Arts," he said, pointing at it and winking as well. "Me. Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award, but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"
He waited for them to laugh; a few people smiled weakly.
"I see you've all bought a complete set of my books; well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about, just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in."
When he handed out the test papers, he returned to the front of the class and said, "You have thirty minutes; start now!"
Harry looked down at his paper and read:
1. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?
2. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?
3. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?
On and on it went, over three sides of paper, right down to:
54. When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?
Half an hour later, Lockhart collected the papers and rifled through them in front of the class.
"Tut, tut, hardly any of you remembered that my favorite color is lilac. I say so in Year with the Yeti. And a few of you need to read Wanderings with Werewolves more carefully. I clearly state in chapter twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples, though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey!"
He gave them another roguish wink. Ron was now staring at Lockhart with an expression of disbelief; Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, sitting in front, were shaking with silent laughter. Hermione, on the other hand, was listening to Lockhart with rapt attention and gave a start when he mentioned her name.
"But Miss Hermione Granger knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions, good girl! In fact,"—he flipped her paper over— "Full marks! Where is Miss Hermione Granger?"
Hermione raised a trembling hand.
"Excellent!" beamed Lockhart. "Quite excellent! Take ten points for Gryffindor! And so, to business!"
He bent down behind his desk and lifted a large, covered cage onto it.
"Now, be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm."
In spite of himself, Harry leaned around his pile of books for a better look at the cage. Lockhart placed a hand on the cover. Dean and Seamus had stopped laughing now. Neville was cowering in his front-row seat.
"I must ask you not to scream," said Lockhart in a low voice. "It might provoke them."
As the whole class held its breath, Lockhart whipped off the cover.
"Yes," he said dramatically. "Freshly caught Cornish pixies."
Seamus Finnigan couldn't control himself. He let out a snort of laughter that even Lockhart couldn't mistake for a scream of terror.
"Yes?" He smiled at Seamus.
"Well, they're not…. they're not very…. dangerous, are they?" Seamus choked.
"Don't be so sure!" said Lockhart, waggling a finger annoyingly at Seamus. "Devilish tricky little blighters they can be!"
The pixies were electric blue and about eight inches high, with pointed faces and voices so shrill it was like listening to a lot of budgies arguing. When the cover was removed, they started jabbering and rocketing around, rattling the bars and making bizarre faces at the people nearest them.
"Right, then," Lockhart said in an annoyed voice as a blush began to spread across his face, as the classroom began to descend into giggles and snorts, "Let's see what you make of them!" And he opened the cage.
It was pandemonium. The pixies shot in every direction like rockets. Two of them seized Neville by the ears and lifted him into the air. Several shot straight through the window, showering the back row with broken glass. The rest proceeded to wreck the classroom more effectively than a rampaging rhino. They grabbed ink bottles and sprayed the class with them, shredded books and papers, tore pictures from the walls, upended the waste basket, grabbed bags and books, and threw them out of the smashed window; within minutes, half the class was sheltering under desks, and Neville was swinging from the iron chandelier in the ceiling. Finally, one of them grabbed Harry's long purple braid and began pulling him across the room as though it were a leash. Harry yelled in pain.
"Come now," Lockhart laughed, "I thought you said they were only pixies! Surely you can overcome a few pixies!"
"Get it off!" Harry screamed, too in pain to change his hair length,
"Hold still, Harry!" Daphne yelled as she grabbed one of his books and swung it at the offending pixie; it connected with a satisfying 'smack,' and the pixie was launched against the nearby wall before sliding down unconscious.
"Thanks, Daph," Harry replied before shortening his hair to its natural length and color,
"Anytime," Daphne replied grimly as she swung the book at any pixie unlucky enough to get near her.
"Oh, very well then!" Lockhart scoffed as he rolled up his sleeves, withdrew his wand, and bellowed, "Peskipiksi Pesternomi!"
It had absolutely no effect; one of the pixies seized his wand and threw it out of the window, too. Lockhart gulped and dived under his own desk, narrowly avoiding being squashed by Neville, who fell a second later as the chandelier gave way.
The bell rang, and there was a mad rush toward the exit. In the relative calm that followed, Lockhart straightened up, caught sight of Daphney, Tracey, Theo, Ron, Hermione, and Harry, who were almost at the door and said, "Well, I'll ask you to just nip the rest of them back into their cage. I have to get ready for m next class, after all." He swept past them and shut the door quickly behind him.
"Can you believe him?" roared Ron as one of the remaining pixies bit him painfully on the ear.
"The man is an incompetent arse!" Tracey snapped as she smacked an incoming pixie with her bag,
"Who the hell thought hiring him was a good idea?" Daphne added,
"I'd like to know that myself," Theo growled as he froze two pixies with a freezing charm before stuffing them back into the cage, "I mean, did you see that test he gave us?! I thought this was Defense Against the Dark Arts, not Introduction to Narcissism!"
"He just wants to give us some hands-on experience," said Hermione, immobilizing two pixies at once with a clever Freezing Charm and stuffing them back into their cage.
"Hands on?" said Harry, who was trying to grab a pixie dancing out of reach with its tongue out. "Hermione, he didn't have a clue what he was doing."
"Rubbish," said Hermione. "You've read his books; look at all those amazing things he's done!"
"He says he's done," Ron muttered.
"I agree with Ron," Tracey spat, "There is no way that man has done HALF of what's in those books!"
"I'll be writing to my father when we're done here!" Daphne growled as she smacked another pixie with her book, "That man is interfering with our education!"
"Agreed," Harry added, "I'll write to Mum and Dad and Sirius. I'm sure he'll be THRILLED that Lockhart is our teacher."
"Dumbledore wouldn't have hired him if he didn't know what he was doing!" Hermione countered,
"No offense, Hermione," Theo replied, stuffing another pixie into the cage, "But even Dumbledore can make mistakes."
Hermione said nothing and simply went back to trying to catch pixies as the others growled their agreement.
XXXX
After an exhaustive amount of time, the six students finally managed to get all of the pixies back in their cage, only to discover that they were now late for their next class, which unfortunately turned out to be Transfiguration; as the six of them came into the classroom, Professor McGonagall instantly noticed their torn robes and the myriad of tiny scratches that adorned their arms and faces.
"Why are you nearly twenty minutes late for class?" Professor McGonagall demanded, "And what is the meaning of your state of appearance?!"
"We're terribly sorry, professor!" Harry huffed, "But we were forced to clean up Professor Lockhart's mess!"
"Mess?" Professor McGonagall asked in surprise, "What mess?"
"The idiot let a cage full of pixies loose!" Tracey spat, "Which then proceeded to tear his classroom apart!"
"And rather than fix the mess himself," Theo added, "He told us to do it and ran away like a coward!"
Either Harry had forgotten how thin Professor McGonagall's lips could thin, or he had never seen her this angry,
"Are you saying that your Professor deliberately put you all in harm's way and then fled and left you six to deal with it?" Professor McGonagall asked in a dangerous voice,
"Yes, ma'am!" Five voices echoed as one; Hermione was the only one who didn't answer, suddenly choosing to find her shoes fascinating.
"I want you all to open your books until I return," Professor McGonagall thundered to the students who had been listening with rapt attention, "You six, come with me!"
Without another word, Professor McGonagall stormed out of the classroom, with Harry and the others following close behind while sharing a confused look; their confusion cleared when it became apparent that they were being taken to the Hospital Wing.
"Madam Pomfrey!" Professor McGonagall cried out as they entered, causing the Hospital Matron to quickly exit her office with a worried look,
"Yes? Oh, Professor McGonagall! What's the matter?"
"These six were attacked by pixies," Professor McGonagall stated, her voice tight with anger, "I would like for you to give them a look while I go and fetch the headmaster if you would be so kind."
"Professor, we don't need a checkup," Ron said quickly, "They were just pixies,"
"Nonsense, Mr. Weasley!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed, "Pixies can carry all manner of diseases, just as if you were attacked by a wild animal! Now, you six, sit down and let me look at you this instant!"
Unable to withstand her wrath, the six students quickly took their seats on two separate beds; Daphney, Tracy, and Ron took one, while Harry, Hermione, and Theo took the other to sit across from each other. Then, after a quick nod, Professor McGonagall spun on her heel and stormed away, muttering something in Gaelic as she left.
Madam Pomfrey had just finished her examination when Professor McGonagall returned with Headmaster Dumbledore trailing behind her; both were wearing an expression of barely contained anger.
"Well?" Dumbledore asked, "Are the children alright, Poppy?"
"Aside from a few scratches, they'll be just fine, headmaster," Madam Pomfrey replied quickly, "Though how this happened in the first place is something I would like to know."
"As would I," Dumbledore replied tensely, "Could you please explain yourselves, children?"
Ten minutes later, once Harry and the others had told the waiting adults the story, all three looked ready to unleash a cage of pixies on Lockhart.
"That man has no business around children if this is how he intends to behave!" Then, McGonagall snapped, "One of them could have been seriously injured, Albus!"
"Agreed," Dumbledore replied softly, anger laced in every word, "I will speak with Gilderoy immediately; if you will, please excuse me."
Before he could leave, however, Harry reached out and grabbed the edge of his robe, making Dumbledore turn to him.
"Um, Professor," Harry said in a small voice, "This is the test that Professor Lockhart made us do at the start of class."
Taking the parchment from his hand, Dumbledore began to look at his, his gaze hardening with each question before finally lowering the parchment with shaky hands.
"Thank you, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said in a dangerous voice, "I need to speak with Gilderoy now about his responsibilities and behavior as a Hogwarts teacher."
Spinning on his heel, Dumbledore sped out of the Hospital Wing as the children grinned at each other,
"I'd love to be a fly on that wall," Harry laughed,
"You and me both," Theo added.
A moment later, the Hospital Wing echoed with laughter, and even McGonagall looked amused before ushering them all back to her classroom.