Harry Potter And The Forger Of Worlds - Chapter 67 Gilderoy Lockhart Part 2

After Nova left, he went up to the Forge and started to clean the area up. It wasn’t really dirty since he had not used it since putting Helena in the Coffin. But it still needed to have a few things done to it. Like the wood and metal scraps and the slag on the anvil had to be burned and discarded. It took a solid hour or so for Nova to get things neat and organized, he could tell that Helena dug around and touched stuff when she woke up. It made Nova wonder, why women never put stuff back where it is supposed to go after they were done using it.

With a sigh, Nova just shook his head and walked out of his forge the first thing heard from where he was at:

“-ABSOLUTELYDISGUSTED – YOUR FATHER’S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT’S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE’LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME.”

“Ouch.” Was all Nova said. That did remind him that he still had the car in his ring and was meaning to send it back, but something told him that if he did, Molly Weasley was apt to blow it to the afterlife of car heaven.

Nova then jumped down the stairs and let his wings slow his fall as he came to land outside the Great Hall. When he walked in Nova saw Professor McGonagall was moving along the Gryffindor table, handing out course schedules. Nova took his from a slightly annoyed McGonagall, though Nova didn’t know why she would be, and saw that they had double Herbology with the Hufepuffs first.

As he arrived at the greenhouses, saw an irritated Professor Sprout. Now Professor Sprout was a squat little witch who wore a patched hat over her flyaway hair; there was usually a large amount of earth on her clothes and her fingernails would have made Aunt Petunia faint. Gilderoy Lockhart, however, was immaculate in sweeping robes of turquoise, his golden hair shining under a perfectly positioned turquoise hat with gold trimming.

“Oh, hello there!” he called, beaming around at the assembled students. “Just been showing Professor Sprout the right way to doctor a Whomping Willow! But I don’t want you running away with the idea that I’m better at Herbology than she is! I just happen to have met several of these exotic plants on my travels . . .”

“Greenhouse three today, chaps!” said Professor Sprout, who was looking distinctly disgruntled, not at all her usual cheerful self. There was a murmur of interest. They had only ever worked in greenhouse one before – greenhouse three housed far more interesting and dangerous plants. Professor Sprout took a large key from her belt and unlocked the door. Harry caught a whiff of damp earth and fertilizer mingling with the heavy perfume of some giant, umbrellasized flowers dangling from the ceiling. He was about to follow Ron and Hermione inside when Lockhart’s hand shot out.

“Harry! I’ve been wanting a word – you don’t mind if he’s a couple of minutes late, do you, Professor Sprout?”

Judging by Professor Sprout’s scowl, she did mind, but Lockhart said, “That’s the ticket,” and closed the greenhouse door in her face.

“I am not one you comment on a person’s mental health.” Nova said. “But I do think Lockhart is an idiot on the level of the Ministry people. Or he has possibly been kicked one too many times in the head.”

Professor Sprout heard what Nova said and started to laugh.

“Ten Points to Gryffindor for making me laugh” Sprout called out. Professor Sprout was standing behind a trestle bench in the center of the greenhouse. About twenty pairs of different-colored earmuffs were lying on the bench. When Harry had taken his place between Ron and Hermione, she said, “We’ll be repotting Man drakes today. Now, who can tell me the properties of the Mandrake?”

To nobody’s surprise, Hermione’s hand was first into the air. “Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative,” said Hermione, sounding as usual as though she had swallowed the textbook. “It is used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed to their original state.”

“Excellent. Ten points to Gryffindor,” said Professor Sprout. “The Mandrake forms an essential part of most antidotes. It is also, however, dangerous. Who can tell me why?”

Hermione’s hand narrowly missed Harry’s glasses as it shot up again.

“The cry of the Mandrake is fatal to anyone who hears it,” she said promptly.

“Precisely. Take another ten points,” said Professor Sprout. “Now, the Mandrakes we have here are still very young.”

She pointed to a row of deep trays as she spoke, and everyone shuffled forward for a better look. A hundred or so tufty little plants, purplish green in color, were growing there in rows. They looked quite unremarkable to Harry, who didn’t have the slightest idea what Hermione meant by the “cry” of the Mandrake.

“Everyone take a pair of earmuffs,” said Professor Sprout. There was a scramble as everyone tried to seize a pair that wasn’t pink and fluffy.

“When I tell you to put them on, make sure your ears are completely covered,” said Professor Sprout. “When it is safe to remove them, I will give you the thumbs-up. Right – earmuffs on.”

Nova didn’t understand the point of the earmuffs, so he didn’t bother grabbing a pair. Nova watched as Professor Sprout put the pink, fluffy pair over her own ears, rolled up the sleeves of her robes, grasped one of the tufty plants firmly, and pulled hard.

Instead of roots, a small, muddy, and extremely ugly baby popped out of the earth. The leaves were growing right out of his head. He had pale green, mottled skin, and was clearly bawling at the top of his lungs.

Professor Sprout took a large plant pot from under the table and plunged the Mandrake into it, burying him in dark, damp compost until only the tufted leaves were visible. Professor Sprout dusted off her hands, gave them all the thumbs-up, and removed her own earmuffs.

“As our Mandrakes are only seedlings, their cries won’t kill yet,” she said calmly as though she’d just done nothing more exciting than water a begonia. “However, they will knock you out for several hours, and as I’m sure none of you want to miss your first day back, make sure your earmuffs are securely in place while you work. I will attract your attention when it is time to pack up.

“Four to a tray – there is a large supply of pots here – compost in the sacks over there – and be careful of the Venemous Tentacula, it’s teething.”

She gave a sharp slap to a spiky, dark red plant as she spoke, making it draw in the long feelers that had been inching sneakily over her shoulder.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were joined at their tray by a curly-haired Hufflepuff boy Harry knew by sight but had never spoken to, and Nova some how ended up by himself.

“Justin Finch-Fletchley,” he said brightly, shaking Harry by the hand. “Know who you are, of course, the famous Harry Potter… And you’re Hermione Granger – always top in everything” (Hermione beamed as she had her hand shaken too) “- and Ron Weasley. Wasn’t that your flying car?” Ron didn’t smile. The Howler was obviously still on his mind. Nova chuckled when he heard that.

“That Lockhart’s something, isn’t he?” said Justin happily as they began fiIling their plant pots with dragon dung compost. “Awfully brave chap. Have you read his books? Id have died of fear if Id been cornered in a telephone booth by a werewolf, but he stayed cool and – zap – just fantastic.

“My name was down for Eton, you know. I can’t tell you how glad I am I came here instead. Of course, Mother was slightly disappointed, but since I made her read Lockhart’s books I think she’s begun to see how useful it’ll be to have a fully trained wizard in the family. . .”

Hearing that made Nova think, something about Lockhart’s books had been bothering him and with the way Lockhart acts. But unfortunately, Nova lost his train of thought, due to the 40 or so Mandrakes starting to cry and scream.

A little irritated he was interrupted, Nova said, “Silence.” and all the Mandrakes stopped making noise and obediently let themselves go into the pots. Now of course, everyone was startled when their Mandrake started to behave as was Professor Sprout, but since no one had heard Nova they just kind of shrugged it off.

Nova was glad when the class was over and everyone traipsed back to the castle for a quick wash and then the Gryffindors hurried off to Transfiguration. Professor McGonagall’s classes were always hard work, but today was especially difficult. Nova just kind of sat there and kicked his feet up. When McGonagall asked what he was doing and why he didn’t turn the beetle into a button, Nova gave his reply in the form of snapping his fingers and changed all the beetles into crystal buttons with snowflake fractals. Nova just gave McGonagall a look and snapped his finger to revert them back. McGonagall left him alone for the rest of class. Nova then proceeded to watch everyone else. Harry was supposed to be turning a beetle into a button, but all he managed to do was give his beetle a lot of exercise as it scuttled over the desktop avoiding his wand.

Ron was having far worse problems. He had patched up his wand with some borrowed Spellotape, but it seemed to be damaged beyond repair. It kept crackling and sparking at odd moments, and every time Ron tried to transfigure his beetle it engulfed him in thick gray smoke that smelled of rotten eggs. Unable to see what he was doing, Ron accidentally squashed his beetle with his elbow and had to ask for a new one. Professor McGonagall wasn’t pleased.

As for Hermione well, not much needed to be said. Though she was still a little irritated that Nova didn’t need to do anything to get the results. She didn’t ask why.

After the class was over it was time for lunch. After a few plates of desserts, Nova headed to the DADA classroom, and found a warm spot in the sun and sat down and took a nap. He completely ignored everyone else who walked into the the classrooms

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When the whole class was seated, Lockhart cleared his throat loudly and silence fell. 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.

“Me,” he said, pointing at it and winking as well. “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!”

“Ah Mr. Void. It’s too early for a nap.” Lockhart said, he then went over and started to poke Nova in the head. “Mr. Void. Wake up!”

Nova then woke up and sat up. “Is it time to go now?”

“Haha I see someone was too excited to sleep last night after knowing I would be teaching them.” Lockhart laughed.

He waited for them to laugh; a few people smiled weakly. Everyone in the room kinda knew Nova and not one of them believed that.

“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 had 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?

Nova seeing the papers just roled his eyes and breathed fire on them quickly incinerating them to ash before sweeping them to the floor and tried to fall asleep once more.

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 Ogdeds Old Firewhisky!”

He gave them another roguish wink. Ron was now staring at Lockhart with an expression of disbelief on his face; Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, who were 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.”

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,while Nova let out a small snore, 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. The moment the cover had been removed, they had started jabbering and rocketing around, rattling the bars and making bizarre faces at the people nearest them.

“Right, then,” Lockhart said loudly. “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, up-ended 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.

While all this was going on Nova continued to sleep. And he would have stayed that way had Lockhart not released the pixies. As they caused chaos, a few of the pixies notice Nova was asleep. So they picked up a desk and dropped it on him.

When the desk impacted it just splintered on him, but the force did make the chair under Nova break causing him to fall to the floor as anyone else would when a chair falls out from under them. Feeling the impact from both directions, Nova’s eyes shot opened and released the full might of his aura for a brief second.

But a second was all that it took. The pixies were terrified and rightly so. Even their small instinctual minds knew not to anger a dragon. So they did the smartest thing they could think of which was to run. They tried for the windows but they were magically reinforced to avoid things fleeing. When they soon realized escape was not an option the pixies did the next best thing. Hide in the robes of Gilderoy Lockhart. Now of course, Nova saw what they were doing. Before they did it and when Lockhart said, “Come on now – round them up, round them up, they’re only pixies.”

Nova let out a large grin showing off his dragon teeth, “You are correct, Professor Lockhart. They are only pixies. Who should go back into their cage. Oh look they are all gathered in one spot. This will make bagging them easier.”

Realizing what Nova meant, Lockhart gulped and dived under his own desk.

“Oh come now Professor. Sometimes you must make the proper sacrifice.” Nova then grabbed Lockhart by his neck and shoved him and the pixies who were still in his robes cowering back into the cage. Nova then opened his wings and flew up to get Neville.

“Why is it always you in these situations Neville?” Nova asked. Neville just shrugged as Nova took him off the chandelier and put him on the ground just as the bell rang.

When the bell rang everyone disappeared eager to get out of there, Harry and Ron were laughing and Hermione, well. . .

“Nova why did you do that?” Hermione asked speechless.

“He is an idiot and woke me from my nap.” Nova said and the conversation was over.