In Between Two Worlds (HP/PJO Crossover)

Chapter 53: The Rouge Bludgers.

Since the disastrous episode of the pixies, Professor Lockhart had not brought live creatures to class. Instead, he read passages from his books to us, and sometimes reenacted some of the more dramatic bits. He usually picked Harry and I to help him with these reconstructions; so far, I had been forced to play a simple Transylvanian villager whom Lockhart had cured of a Babbling Curse, a yeti with a head cold, and a vampire who had been unable to eat anything except lettuce since Lockhart had dealt with him.

Harry and I were hauled to the front of the class during our very next Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, this time acting a werewolf. If I hadn't had a very good reason for keeping Lockhart in a good mood, I would have refused to do it. I also had personal reasons for hating him for killing a werewolf. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Bailey silently fuming in the back of the class.

"Nice loud howl-exactly-and then, if you'll believe it, I pounced-like this-slammed him to the floor-thus with one hand, I managed to hold him down-with my other, I put my wand to his throat-I then screwed up my remaining strength and performed the immensely complex Homorphus Charm-he let out a piteous moan-go on-higher than that-good-the fur vanished-the fangs shrank-and he turned back into a man." Impossible. "Simple, yet effective-and another village will remember me forever as the hero who delivered them from the monthly terror of werewolf attacks."

The bell rang and Lockhart got to his feet.

"Homework-compose a poem about my defeat of the Wagga Wagga Werewolf! Signed copies of Magical Me to the author of the best one!"

The class began to leave. Harry and I returned to the back of the room, where Ron, Hermione, and Bailey were waiting. I walked over and rubbed Bailey's back soothingly.

"Ready?" Harry muttered.

"Wait till everyone's gone," said Hermione nervously. "All right..."

She approached Lockhart's desk, a piece of paper clutched tightly in her hand, the four of us right behind her.

"Er-Professor Lockhart?" Hermione stammered. "I wanted to-to get this book out of the library. Just for background reading." She held out the piece of paper, her hand shaking slightly. "But the thing is, it's in the Restricted Section of the library, so I need a teacher to sign for it-I'm sure it would help me understand what you say in Gadding with Ghouls about slow acting venoms..."

"Ah, Gadding with Ghouls!" said Lockhart, taking the note from Hermione and smiling widely at her. "Possibly my very favorite book. You enjoyed it?"

"Oh, yes," said Hermione eagerly. "So clever, the way you trapped that last one with the tea strainer-"

"Well, I'm sure no one will mind me giving the best student of the year a little extra help," said Lockhart warmly, and he pulled out an enormous peacock quill. "Yes, nice, isn't it?" he said, misreading the revolted look on Ron's face. "I usually save it for book signings."

He scrawled an enormous loopy signature on the note and handed it back to Hermione.

"So, Harry, Karlee," said Lockhart, while Hermione folded the note with fumbling fingers and slipped it into her bag. "Tomorrow's the first Quidditch match of the season, I believe? Gryffindor against Slytherin, is it not? I hear you're both useful players. I was a Seeker, too, Harry. I was asked to try for the National Squad, but preferred to dedicate my life to the eradication of the Dark Forces. Still, if ever you feel the need for a little private training, don't hesitate to ask. Always happy to pass on my expertise to less able players..."

Harry made an indistinct noise in his throat and then hurried off after us.

"I don't believe it," he said as the five of us examined the signature on the note. "He didn't even look at the book we wanted."