"Aaaah! Help me!"
"Ugh! What is this!"
The classroom was in utter chaos. In this purgatory-like place, a fossil with a long and storied history had fallen from the ceiling, and students were screaming their heads off.
The identity of this place? None other than the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom.
In this crucible of chaos, I was the only one who remained completely composed, watching the scene unfold with my chin propped on my hand.
How on earth did it come to this?
I let out a small yawn and thought back.
The story begins just a short while ago.
***
I'll be honest.
It's true that I had a tiny bit of hope.
Even if the professor standing before me was a fraud who knew nothing but Memory Charms, didn't that mean he was at least good at one thing? And putting his magical skills aside, his literary talent was second to none.
In that case, as someone so obsessed with his public image, couldn't he at least conduct a decent class for children?
That version of me is now dead and gone.
I raised one corner of my mouth in a smirk and stared down at the scrap of paper that called itself a quiz.
Getting to Know Gilderoy Lockhart.
It was meant to check how diligently we had read his books, but not a single question on the paper even asked about the plot. Considering the books were primarily about confronting dangerous magical creatures, I might have understood if he'd at least asked about the storyline.
But every single question on this scrap of paper was about Lockhart himself.
What is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday? What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color? What is Gilderoy Lockhart's most desired gift?
There couldn't have been a single person who didn't let out a hollow laugh upon receiving this quiz that asked only about Lockhart himself.
…Well, there were a few exceptions. The brown-haired young lady sitting next to me, for example.
The star of the show was Hermione, who was scribbling away with fiery determination, as if determined not to leave a single inch of the paper blank.
Sensing my gaze, she silently mouthed, "What?" I looked at her with pity and slowly shook my head. In response, Hermione silently chided me to focus on the quiz.
Still, I just couldn't understand.
Did Lockhart… even have a brain?
How could someone so concerned with his public reputation not realize that a quiz like this would completely tarnish it?
A few moments later, I came to a conclusion. This was madness, a level of insanity beyond human comprehension. I had diagnosed Lockhart.
This thorough evaluation was, of course, the result of Legilimency.
After letting out that hollow laugh, I simply couldn't comprehend what was going on inside that man's head, so I took a peek.
'Everyone will cheer for me!'
'Won't Harry Potter look up to me?'
'I wish the whole world would blow me kisses!'
Ugh. What is this?
The moment I looked inside, I was so horrified that I had to immediately retreat from his mental world. Staying any longer felt like it would horribly warp my own mind.
A situation like this could only be one of two things.
Either his Occlumency was so masterful that it had reached a level capable of inflicting pain on a Legilimens…
…or his mental world was just so naturally horrific that it served as a human shield against Occlumency.
And it was as obvious as the death of any Dark Wizard who faced me that Lockhart's case was the latter.
In short, it was an extreme form of narcissism. I simply could not comprehend the thought process of a man who had a 24/7 party for himself inside his head.
Seeing how he had grabbed Harry for a photo op, I knew he had a brilliant, instinctual grasp of how to get attention, which made this stunt all the more baffling.
And that was to be expected.
Who could possibly understand the mind of a madman? This level of insanity was something only Hagrid's love for dangerous animals could possibly rival.
…Come to think of it, Hagrid did try to raise a dragon, so he was no slouch either. For a moment, I wondered why Hogwarts attracted so many people like this.
Regardless, after some time passed, Lockhart nonchalantly collected the quizzes.
What followed was a review of the quiz. Why he liked this color, what he disliked. How brilliant a student Miss Granger was for getting a perfect score.
Just as I was mastering the art of letting my eardrums deflect meaningless sound vibrations, a rather interesting phrase caught my attention.
"Of course, contrary to your desperate wishes, our very interesting time of exploring me has passed, and it is now time for the boring stuff. The lesson."
With that, he pulled a cage out from under his desk. It was a cube, roughly a meter on each side, and was covered with a black cloth, concealing its contents.
Lockhart spoke in a spooky voice, "Inside this cage is the most vicious of creatures. And you must arm yourselves against them! Now then… try not to be too shocked."
He whipped off the cloth, revealing a swarm of Cornish Pixies. The impish, fairy-like creatures were causing a ruckus inside the cage.
At first glance, they didn't seem like much to worry about, but those little fiends are quite vicious. In a way, calling them the "most vicious" of creatures might have been accurate.
While not life-threatening, dozens of creatures that revel in the screams of others was certainly a recipe for disaster.
Hmm, perhaps this will be a proper lesson after all. He might be an extreme narcissist, but maybe he intended to conduct his class properly.
"Professor, aren't pixies not very dangerous creatures?"
I was still entertaining that thought, so I wasn't at all surprised when Lockhart, upon hearing the question, flung the cage door wide open.
And I wasn't particularly surprised when Neville was grabbed by the pixies and lifted into the air. Tsk, tsk, can't even dodge something like that. The standards of Hogwarts students have certainly fallen. Of course, this was also my first time as a Hogwarts second-year.
However, when Lockhart's confidently raised wand was snatched by a pixie, I could only stare blankly.
And then, it was pandemonium.
***
And so, we rewind the clock, back to the present.
Naturally, I had a shield up and was completely unaffected by the pixies' assault.
Hermione, though flustered, was calmly taking down the approaching pixies one by one, while Harry was simply blasting magic in all directions.
Ron was engaged in a life-or-death struggle with a pixie that had grabbed a fistful of his hair.
And what of our esteemed professor? He was hiding under his desk.
My god. I'm seriously going to lose my mind.
I thought he must have had some kind of plan for bringing them in, but I never imagined he could be this thoughtless. Does his brain even function?
The answer, all too obviously, was no.
A moment later, the bell rang, and the students, tormented by pixies, stampeded out of the classroom.
Leading the charge was Lockhart himself. The sight of him running out without even grabbing his wand was quite pathetic, but even in that moment, he couldn't resist trying to save face.
"Alright, class! Today you've learned a valuable lesson not to let your guard down, even with creatures that seem smaller and weaker than you. A most important lesson! As a price for forgetting that, you will clean up the rest of these pixies. That's all for today!"
Of course, at that point, no one took his words seriously. Although, judging by Hermione's expression next to me, it seemed she still believed about 80% of it.
Soon, everyone was gone, leaving only us and the pixies in the classroom. I sighed and began to clean up.
Everything else aside, that dragon fossil… that fossil was an artifact that had been here even a hundred years ago, when I was a student at Hogwarts. Professor Hecat, who donated it, would be sighing if she could see this spectacle.
Remembering my old professor, I pulled out my wand and waved it.
There was a slight whoosh of wind, and the fossil, which had fallen to the floor and shattered into pieces, reassembled itself and reattached to the ceiling with its chains.
But Harry, watching this, spoke hesitantly. "Um, Aisen. Don't you think your restoration spell was a bit much?"
"Hm? Ah…"
Confused, I looked up at the ceiling and let out a small groan.
The dragon skeleton that should have been restored to the ceiling had not only been fully repaired but was also sprouting tiny blood vessels. At this rate, it was going to grow muscles.
Hmm, perhaps seeing Professor Hecat's artifact destroyed made me use a little too much power.
I waved my wand once more, and only then did the bones revert to their original fossilized state.
As an added bonus, Hermione was, of course, astonished by the display.
Putting such minor issues aside, I contemplated Lockhart's teaching method.
Let's ignore the fact that he couldn't control the situation. Actually, that's a problem that probably shouldn't be ignored, but what can you do?
The practical, hands-on approach wasn't bad. In this lax 20th century, where discipline was at an all-time low, how often did students get to face hostile magical creatures? (I was a little disappointed they weren't human, but this was fine in its own way.)
From that perspective, Lockhart's lesson wasn't bad at all. In fact, it was good.
I was even curious as to where he had acquired such hard-to-find creatures and how he'd gotten permission. The Ministry of Magic wouldn't just turn a blind eye to this sort of thing.
Then again, perhaps this was only possible because it was Lockhart. He was a man who knew how to use his fame to his advantage like no other.
...
…Possible because it's Lockhart?
Clap!
"Eek! What was that for?"
Ignoring the startled reactions from Ron and Hermione beside me, I clapped my hands loudly and savored my realization.
That's it. This kind of lesson was only possible because the professor was Lockhart!
Because Lockhart had absolutely no objective self-awareness, he would bring in any creature, dangerous or not, as long as he thought it would make him look good.
In other words, as long as he thought it would boost his reputation, that man would stop at nothing to acquire all sorts of things!
Impressed by my own insight, I announced, "Hey guys, I just remembered something I have to do. I'm going to head out first."
"Huh? Aisen, where are you going?"
"Educational consulting!"
I gave a vague answer to Harry's question from behind me and ran off. As soon as I was sure no one was watching, I Apparated.
My destination: Lockhart's quarters.
***
That night, Lockhart had a very pleasant dream.
It was a very realistic, very enjoyable dream! Though his head did seem to hurt a little…
Waking up in the morning, Lockhart cheered.
This must be a prophetic dream about his future! Perhaps his great self had finally awakened the talent of prophecy.
And from that day on, Lockhart began sending letters to a certain place…
Finally, in the next Defence Against the Dark Arts class.
"Alright, class! Let me introduce you! This is the tail of a Manticore! Though severed from the body, it's still aggressive!"
All the students' jaws dropped, and they were at a loss for words. All except for one Gryffindor student.
***