The Legacy of Salazar

The Babbling Curse

It didn't take long for word of Lockhart's catastrophic lesson with the Gryffindors to spread.

The Professor had opened a cage containing a fair number of Cornish Pixies, who thoroughly wrecked the classroom and sent two students – with minor injuries – to Madam Pomfrey. And Lockhart? Well, he'd dived under his desk until Hermione Granger had taken control with a clever freezing charm.

So, it wasn't a surprise when the Slytherins reluctantly trudged up to their Defense Against the Dark Arts class the following day, Merlin dragging his heels far behind the rest. Draco hung back with him, seemingly torn between pity and amusement as Merlin grumbled obscenities under his breath.

"You're enjoying this," Merlin finally said, glancing at him with narrowed eyes.

"Consider it my reward," Draco sneered. "For tolerating whatever shenanigans you get up to."

Merlin chewed his tongue. He'd slipped back into the castle last night a good two hours after curfew, chilled but relieved to have finally checked in on his dragons. Draco had been lounging in one of the squashy black armchairs, staring at the low burning coals with a cloud over his eyes, and it hadn't been until Merlin sat down next to him that he'd looked away.

"Well, did you find the Dark Lord prowling the forbidden forest?" Draco had asked, not altogether facetious.

"Not this time."

"Right." Draco turned his gaze back to the fireplace. "Are you ever going to bring me along?"

Merlin paused. "Do you actually want to come?" he asked, "What with Voldemort prowling and all?"

Draco flinched at the name. "I suppose not," he said quietly. "Though I think I should."

"Nah, that's Gryffindor you're thinking of."

Draco glared at him. "The Gryffindor," he said testily, "would have already followed you instead of respecting your privacy. So eager to be the hero and jump into danger, whereas I'm more concerned with looking out for my friend."

Merlin blinked, staring at him for a moment. "So am I," he said and he looked at the fireplace too. "So am I."

They sat like that in silence for several minutes, watching the embers dim.

"Oh, I ran into Hermione after dinner," Draco said suddenly. "And wait until you hear what she said about Lockhart's class..."

The class that Merlin now dreaded.

He saw the classroom just up ahead, the front of the Slytherin pack—Pansy Parkinson and the other Slytherin girls—already filing inside. What would Lockhart do? Re-create his first lesson or try something new? Merlin swallowed.

"Maybe I should just skip," he said.

"No—you're not leaving me alone in there," and Draco grabbed him by his tie, pulling him into the classroom.

Although the real Lockhart hadn't arrived yet, his smiling visage decorated the walls. Some of them, Merlin noticed with glee, seemed to be hiding half their face behind the frame or else scrubbing at ink splotches on their boisterously coloured robes.

As Merlin took the seat closest to the door, Draco wrinkled his nose and stared around the classroom. He took a seat next to Merlin, now staring at one of the pictures—an enormous one at the far back dressed in sunshine yellow, who was winking at Pansy Parkinson.

"That's just—that's a whole new level of narcissism," Draco muttered, shaking his head in disgust.

"Yeah, it's totally unexpected." Merlin ran a finger along an ink stain on his desk.