read my new story:
Hogwarts : He Starts by Deconstructing Avada Kedavra...
Hogwarts, my partner is Tom…
The Hufflepuff common room, with warm firelight from the hearth casting a glow on the comfy armchairs.
"Shh—shh—shh—"
Rove Baggins sat on a one-legged stool, holding a rough whetstone picked up from the Black Lake's edge, fully focused on sharpening his frying pan.
This pan had been with him for half a term, and under Rove's careful maintenance, the bottom still gleamed with a cold, eerie light.
[Skill Activated: Basic Forging]
[Action: Shield Maintenance]
[Progress: 85%...90%...]
[Enchantment Effect: Physical Block +5, Non-Stick Coating Integrity 100%]
"Uh, Rove?" Justin Finch-Fletchley walked over, hugging a few copies of "Voyages with Vampires," his face full of confusion. "What are you doing? If you're hungry, the kitchens are right next door. The house-elves would be thrilled to whip up a steak for you."
Rove paused his work, gently blowing off the iron filings from the pan's surface.
"In this world, Justin," Rove's voice was deep and serious, "if you don't have a sword, a pan is your best buddy. It's a Ranger's last line of defense, a sturdy shield against Orc battle-axes, and the stove for cooking up hope in this brutal world."
He stood up, swinging the frying pan skillfully a couple times, making a "whoosh whoosh" through the air.
"See? Perfect balance. It can block deadly spells and fry up the ideal sunny-side-up egg. That's the art of survival."
Justin blinked, clearly not following the leap in logic. "But... we're heading to the Dueling Club, not camping. Professor Lockhart said we're learning 'Expelliarmus,' the Disarming Charm."
"'Disarming Charm'?" Rove snorted, hooking the frying pan onto his belt, the heavy weight giving him a sense of security. "That's Grima Wormtongue's lie. That guy who only knows how to mess with people's heads with sweet talk—he doesn't get what real fighting is. On a true battlefield, enemies won't wait for you to finish your incantation; they'll just chop off your hand."
Just then, Ernie Macmillan burst into the common room, panting, breaking the awkward silence.
"Big news!" Ernie yelled, his face flushed red, drawing everyone's attention. "I just heard—Professor Snape's joining too! He'll be Lockhart's assistant!"
The common room went dead quiet for a second, then erupted into even louder chatter.
Rove's eyes narrowed sharply.
"I knew it..." Rove muttered, his hand instinctively gripping the pan handle. "This isn't just a show. It's a trap. Saruman and Wormtongue are teaming up—they want to take us all out, or at least put on a public power play to intimidate the resistance."
"What trap are you talking about?" Susan curiously leaned over, still clutching the rune stone Rove had given her.
"No time to explain." Rove quickly straightened his robes, making sure his wand and frying pan were in easy-reach spots. He turned to his Hufflepuff classmates.
"Listen up, Hufflepuff comrades! Stay alert tonight. Don't stand near the stage edges, don't eat anything anyone hands you. If you see green light or hear weird hissing, duck behind cover right away—or get behind me!"
The little Hufflepuffs exchanged glances. They were used to Rove's weird ramblings, but seeing him so serious, everyone started feeling uneasy.
"Maybe we should bring earmuffs?" Hannah Abbott suggested quietly, thinking back to Herbology class.
"Bring 'em," Rove nodded firmly. "And goggles too. Dragon-hide gloves on. Anything can happen on the battlefield—stray shots don't discriminate."
So, at eight that evening, when the Hufflepuffs lined up heading to the Great Hall, they looked totally out of place. Some had pink earmuffs, others thick dragon-hide gloves, and a few even carried pot lids. Leading the pack was Rove, with a shiny frying pan dangling from his waist, head held high.
The Great Hall had been totally transformed.
The usual long tables were gone, replaced by a gilded stage along the walls, sparkling under thousands of floating candles—fancy but kinda tacky. Almost the whole school was crammed in here, everyone buzzing with excitement, wands clutched tight.
But in Rove's eyes, the scene shifted to something else.
[Scene Loading: Isengard Arena]
[Environmental Effect: Morale Intimidation (Due to Enemy Leader Presence)]
[Lighting: Glaring (Daze Resistance Check in Progress...)]
Lockhart stood center stage in a plum-colored robe, waving dramatically, his white teeth flashing in the candlelight. Bling bling. Across from him, Snape lurked in the shadows in his signature black robes, looking grim.
"Look at that fake grin," Rove muttered from the floor, leaning toward Harry. "That's a snake baring its fangs before striking. Harry, hold your wand tight. Tonight, they might test your strength."
Harry swallowed nervously, gripping his wand harder. "You mean Snape's gonna try to off me in a duel? In front of all these people?"
"No, too obvious," Rove shook his head, his gaze sharp. "He'll try to humiliate you, break your spirit, maybe even... bait you into unleashing your inner darkness. It's psychological warfare."
Before Harry could dig deeper, Lockhart kicked off his opening speech up on stage, waving his arms wildly to quiet everyone down.
"Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can everyone hear me? Excellent!"
Lockhart's voice boomed through a magical amplifier, echoing around the hall and making ears ring.
"He's hawking his memoirs," Rove scoffed. "Classic bard tactic—using made-up stories to boost his rep."
"Now, let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," Lockhart grinned wide, flashing those big white teeth. "He says he knows a little about dueling himself and has kindly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry—I'll still have your Potions teacher in one piece when I'm through with him, never fear!"
Snape's upper lip curled into a creepy sneer. If looks could kill, Lockhart would've been toast already.
"That fool," Rove muttered. "He's taunting a Balrog."
[Battle Alert: Boss Fight Imminent]
[Gilderoy Lockhart (Lv.?? Bard) VS Severus Snape (Lv.50 Dark Wizard / Potions Master)]
The two turned to face each other and bowed. Lockhart twirled his hands like he was juggling; Snape just jerked his head impatiently.
"Watch this, Harry," Rove analyzed rapid-fire like a commentator. "Lockhart's moves are all fluff—for show. But in real combat, that's extra casting wind-up. Snape... his wand's barely moving. He's charging up."
"One—two—three—"
They both snapped their wands up over their shoulders.
Snape shouted: "Expelliarmus!"
A blinding red light blasted from his wand tip—not just light, more like a cannon shell.
[Skill Check: Powerful Knockback]
[Damage Type: Impact Damage + Magical Damage]
Lockhart didn't stand a chance. The massive force slammed into him, hurling him back in a purple arc through the air, crashing hard into the wall at the stage's end, sliding down in a crumpled heap.
"Boom!"
The whole stage shook a bit.
Hermione let out a yelp, covering her mouth. Other girls gasped too.
"Just like I figured," Rove adjusted his frying pan's position. "That's no basic Disarming Charm. It's a variant of the Uruk-hai 'Shield Bash.' Using a burst of magic for physical shockwave. Perfect crit."
Lockhart wobbled to his feet, hat gone, his wavy curls a total mess, but he still forced a grin.
"Well, there you have it!" He staggered back to center stage, trying to play off his mess. "That was a Disarming Charm—as you've seen, I lost my wand—ah, thank you, Miss Brown."
He took his wand from Lavender and kept rambling: "An excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy—however, I felt it would be instructive to let them see..."
"He's bluffing," Rove eyed Lockhart's shaky hand. "His health bar's down at least half—he's in 'Dazed' and 'Weakened' status. If this was the wild, he'd be wolf chow by now."
Snape's murderous vibe intensified, and Lockhart seemed to pick up on it, 'cause he suddenly wrapped up: "Enough demonstrating! I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me..."
Snape strode into the crowd, his black robes billowing like a storm cloud rolling in.
"This is it," Rove took a deep breath. "The real trial's starting!"