Not Again//Harry Potter [2]

15

"They're starting a Dueling Club!" said Seamus. "First meeting tonight! I wouldn't mind dueling lessons; they might come in handy one of these days. . ."

Autumn stared at the poster on the wall. No matter where she looked, there were at least three posters in her view. 

"What, you reckon Slytherin's monster can duel?" said Ron, but he too read the sign with interest.

"Could be useful," Harry said to the other three as they went into dinner. "Shall we go?"

At eight o'clock sharp, Autumn, Hermione, Harry, and Ron walked to the Great Hall. The long tables that were there not even a few hours ago were gone; and replaced by a golden stage.

"I wonder who'll be teaching us." said Harry, wondering aloud.

"From the decor, I think it's Lockhart." Just as Autumn spoke, Harry groaned while Autumn laughed at Harry. 

Lockhart walked onto the stage, Snape behind him. Lockhart waved an arm for silence and called, "Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent!"

Autumn looked over at Harry, who looked as if he wanted to throw himself through the window into the lake outside the castle.

"Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little dueling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions for full details, see my published works."

"He says that way too often to be true." Autumn said. "That or he's way too full of himself."

"Or both," Ron said.

"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," said Lockhart, flashing a wide smile. "He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry -- you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!"

"Wouldn't it be good if they finished each other off?" Ron muttered.

Autumn nodded. "Less poems."

"Can you imagine if we had to write poems in potions class? What would it even say?" Ron asked.

"That's what I thought when Lockhart assigned poems in Defense Against the Dark Arts." Harry said.

Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other and bowed. Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them.

"As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combat position," Lockhart told the silent crowd. "On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."

"I wouldn't bet on that," Harry murmured, watching Snape baring his teeth.

"One, two, three—"

Both of them swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent; Snape yelled out, "Expelliarmus!" 

There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet: He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor.

Malfoy and some of the other Slytherins cheered. Hermione was standing on tiptoes. "Do you think he's all right?" she squealed through her fingers.

"Who cares?" said Harry and Ron together.

Autumn smacked both boys across the arm. "I don't like him either, but he doesn't deserve that."