Chapter Seventeen: A Dragon, A Bat, And A Ponce

The next morning dawned cold and early, before too long the Hufflepuff dormitories bore witness to the sights and sound of a generation of teenagers waking and meeting the day. Harry and Neville quickly finished their morning ablutions and went down to the richly appointed common room. Much could be said of the house of badgers, but no one could bring into question their taste.

The contingent of the fairer sex soon met the boys, and as a group the friends went out to the great hall for their first breakfast. As they entered the hall, they all got their second look at this year's staff table, and again they each couldn't quite believe who occupied it. The last night they had been more tired than anything. Most years the feast was just a stopgap measure before the famous Hogwarts beds saw use. Now that they had time to process what was up, the celebrity in their midst stuck out like a sore thumb (not just because he seemed to be wearing the most eye watering set of cyan robes any of the friends had ever seen).

Sitting at the head table, evidently still wiping the sleep from his eyes, was Gilderoy Lockhart. In the magical world he was something of a folk hero, like Daniel Boone in the colonies, Simo Häyhä to the Fins, or Guy Fawkes more locally. He was a little bit larger than life, a fact not harmed in the least by the number of books written about him. Apparently that was why all of his books were on the required list for this year, he was the new DADA guy. In many ways it was a bit disconcerting to the friends to see him sitting at the staff table and examining his teeth with a hand mirror.

As they all sat down and began their breakfast the first post of the year arrived, and in an interesting twist a steaming howler was seen to arrive in the grasp of an owl that looked like it had seen better decades.

The poor example of the avian species landed in a crash at the table of the brave, directly in front of a certain young Weasley. Hedwig, who loved attending a Hogwarts breakfast, if only for the bacon, quickly moved her head under her wing as a voice that seemed larger than life began screeching.

"RONALD BILLIUS WEASLEY! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING! THERE WERE A HUNDRED WAYS YOU COULD HAVE GOTTEN TO SCHOOL INSTEAD OF STEALING YOUR FATHER'S CAR! A THOUSAND EVEN! HE IS FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, AND YOU ARE THE CAUSE! DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY OF THOSE DAMNED MUGGLES SAW YOU, FLYING ABOUT IN A CAR? THE TREE YOU HIT IS WORTH MORE AND IS MORE RARE THAN YOU ARE! DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH TROUBLE WE ARE ALL IN AND-"

It was hard, but the friends did their best to tune the voice coming from the red envelope out. They couldn't help but feel embarrassed for Weasley. Overall he was a massive prick, but who couldn't feel embarrassed for the kid?

As if on cue, the letter ended and they found out who. Uproarious, sidesplitting laughter began emanating from the Slytherin table, starting next to the most entertaining snake and spreading along the table. After a quick explanation to Hermione about what exactly a howler is, the friends all met eyes. It looked like the idiocy of the Ron/Draco feud wasn't going to be joining Quirrell in the things about first year no one would miss.

For all of the friends save Luna, the first lesson of the year would end up being Herbology. Luna had the good fortune of seeing Professor McGonagall for her first lesson. The friends made sure to assure her and their other firsties that McGonagall was stern but fair. Harry was sure to whisper his suspicion that she was a lot less stern than she appeared, but she was a huge stickler for the rules, so Luna should really consider cutting down on calling folks 'bloody plonkers'. The students all left for their books before heading to class.

The friends all headed outside for the first foray into the greenhouses for the year. As they left the castle and began their journey they spotted the unflappable professor Sprout laden down with what looked like hospital wing standard bandages and a bag of clinking vials. Her expression was strained, Harry noted, and she was closely followed by Professor Lockhart, who was loudly describing ways he had seen of healing similar trees that he had encountered in his travels. Privately Harry was impressed, if what he was describing worked, he had seen some truly impressive stuff. He couldn't help but anxiously anticipate the upcoming class.

For a moment the adult cloaked in what even the girls had to say was a tastelessly bright robe locked eyes with the young nobleman. Harry picked up a weighing and calculating impression from the man. An involuntary shiver passed through the boy. He couldn't help but think that maybe that's how a number of dark creatures had felt before their demise.

The friend's first lesson was a crash course in mandragora, one of magical agriculture's more useful specimens. The mandrake restorative draught was widely used as a sort of panacea for any kind of physically altering trauma. Harry and Nym spent a few minutes speculating on the effect it would have on their physiology, but passed it off as a bad job. Sprout had explained that the magical properties of the disturbingly humanoid root were rooted, if the pun was pardonable, in a return to one's natural state. Specifically to humanoids. Their natural states were change, so honestly it was a craps shoot that neither desired to experiment too much with. Despite their work in advancing their natural talents, bot had a healthy fear, especially after the most recent ritual mishap that Harry had gone through, of combining external magical influences with their own transitory natures. It was a recipe for an unknown magical reaction, which experience taught them was a bad idea.

Following their lesson was a brief round of showers to ward off the pervasive influence of dragon dung fertilizer, lunch, and a second straight class with the house of the lions. Defense against the dark arts.

While Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel held the titles of widest known and most powerful wizards in the European theatre, Lockhart occupied the enviable position of most popular. The former wizards were all from the last generation (or more honestly, harry figured, like three generations back), Lockhart was the wizard of the 1990s. Brand new and kicking. His exploits, chronicled in his own hand and widely read, were the stuff of urban legend. His looks not hurting any of these facts in the least.

The kids were all eagerly anticipating their first exposure to what could only have been one of the most experienced wizards of the age. They entered the classroom to find that it had been changed entirely from the last year. Quirrell's room had been dark, with garlands of garlic hanging from the ceiling beams and crosses made of silver and wood peppered across the room. Voldy and his servant had really been playing the vampire angle. The windows in the room had been covered by thick black cloth and the light had been supplied by innumerable candles in the shape of human spinal columns and Hogwarts standard torches.

Lockhart had the windows exposed and cleaned, filling the room with natural light. The walls were covered in enchanted posters of him, each grinning like a loon and exposing the smile that had won the Witch Weekly best smile competition a bunch of times. Lockhart had hung the skeleton of what looked like a small dragon, Harry's guess was Peruvian Vipertooth, from the ceiling. The whole place just threw off a Lockhart vibe, which was okay in the friend's books.

The students all sat down and many placed their books on the desk, the pile of seven blocking their gaze of the front of the classroom entirely. There was an air of anticipation in the air as this would be the first defense class Lockhart had this year, and they were eagerly awaiting his words.

When everyone was finally situated, there was a beat of silent tension, before the door to the defense office (up a short set of stairs at the front end of the room) was thrown open and the man himself made his dramatic entrance.

He began speaking as he walked down the steps to the class's level, "Hello my young pupils! Welcome to both of our first defense periods of the year! I've been looking forward to this moment all summer, and now finally it's here. You all will have the most excellent opportunity to pick my brain and get experience that will help each of you one day perhaps be as accomplished as I am," He reached the bottom of the steps and preened for a moment, boffing his fingernails briefly against his shirt and examining them in the light of the window he was silhouetted against. Unbidden, Hedwig sent him an image of her doing the exact same thing with her claws and he had to suppress a laugh.

"I am Gilderoy Norman Jasper Lockhart esquire, Order of Merlin third class recipient, honorary member of the Dark Force Defense League, five time winner of Witch Weekly's most charming smile award," Five, THAT was the number, Harry thought, "and Inventor of the world's finest shampoo, based on my own research of the follicle based properties of occamy eggs. I've saved no less than five villages of people from nightmarish horrors of the worst sort, and I've fought yeti, werewolves, and banshees to the death in hand to hand combat."

He paused there, as if for applause, but the class was a mixture of overwhelmed by his charm and hanging on his every word. He continued, "My plan for the first day is to see how much you all know already of my various and sundry accomplishments, so there will be a short quiz before we begin in earnest!"

He gave his wand a stab and wave move towards a pile of what were evidently to be their tests, thoroughly flubbing the spell and causing the pile to burst into flames. There were shrieks from across the classroom, some from people scared of the fire (Their unfortunate Weasley classmate), some from people who were terrified to see Lockhart do something wrong (The Brown and Patil girls from the Gryffs who loved their makeup and gossip) and one from a girl who hated to see someone deface a quiz.

Lockhart looked horrified around the room and quickly announced, "NOT TO WORRY not to worry! I have this under control!"

The nightmare in blue-green sent a ventus at the pile of burning paper, thinking he would blow the fire out, but really only sending flaming paper into the faces of the people in the first row and distributing hot ash around the room. Thankfully the front row consisted of the friends. Harry, Nym, and Susan all threw up shields, blocking the students off of the fire and unfortunately causing the wind to redirect the papers both up and back at the caster of the spell.

Lockhart burst into girly screams as a small piece of one of his rapidly oxidizing quizzes landed in his hair and set whatever product he used aflame. Harry could only start chuckling as the walking matchstick began running back and forth, smacking himself in the head in a vain attempt to save his hair so he could one day again be vain.

The man did a full circle of the room before Harry realized he should do something before Lockhart's brain fried. He nudged Nym, and performed an aguamenti. The blast of water put out the flaming professor drenching him entirely in the process. The man spluttered under the aquatic assault, and when Harry and his female counterpart let their spells die, before them stood the stunning opposite of the man who had walked down the steps into the room not five minutes before.

Lockhart's robes, when wet, turned an ugly dark vomit-like color. His hair was singed, black in some place and falling out in others, and hung flat to his face obscuring half of it. The man's hands and forehead both looked like they need burn treatments, with small blisters forming on them as they student's watched. The man looked like a kicked puppy that had been accidently set on fire; a comparison which Harry felt may not have been too far off the mark at the moment.

The professor, having taken a moment to calm down after being hosed down, took one look at a mirror on the wall and without saying a word sprinted straight for the door. Neglecting to watch his steps, he tripped on a desk that had been knocked over by a student worried about the flaming paper, and crashed to the ground, impacting the floor face first and hard, knocking himself square out.

The classroom was dead silent and unmoving for a full minute. Ron Weasley was being held in the arms of Dean Thomas, who had caught him as he jumped to get away from the fire. Lavender Brown, Pavarti Patil, and the rest of the Gryffindor girls all wore disturbingly identical expressions of dismay and fear. Harry couldn't take his eyes from the lump of professor on the floor.

"Umm. I'm gonna call that as a class dismissed. Do any of you Gryffindor types want to come with me and take him to the hospital wing? I'd like a non-Hufflepuff to be there to confirm the story of… this," Harry said into the silent room.

He got a shaky nod from the gossipy lions, and began packing his things.

It was an interesting first lesson.

The next day the second year 'Puffs had their first Potions lesson, and it too was an interesting one for the group.

Severus Snape had not, it seemed, missed the fact that Harry had revealed a portion of his heritage at the end of the last year. In the two weeks before the semester ended after Harry let that fact go, he had only seen Snape three times, so it hadn't been a big deal. It seemed that the dour potions master wasn't going to continue that pattern.

Where before in potions he had only been a minor nuisance, essentially leaving the badgers and ravens to their own devices, now he came after Harry specifically with a vengeance. The entire first lesson, after leaving the instructions on the board that is, he simply stood behind Harry and commented on his brewing technique.

They were working on a simple draught, actually a review from the last year, which cured one's acne. The only thing of note with the process was that if an incorrect amount of powdered hippogryph claw were added in addition to leaving it over heat for too long, it formed something very much like mundane thermite. Not necessarily explosive, but it burns so hot that it could melt through the magically strengthen cauldron and work table straight through the floor. At one point Harry questioned how a potion intended to get rid of one's spots could do that, but he had been forced again to conclude that magic was weird and let it go.

As Harry approached that step in the process, he noticed his caldron seem to flicker for an instant. Writing it off as a consequence of the volume of fumes in the air with no outlet, he just kept going. After making double-sure of the amount he was adding (he knew about the bad reaction because of rumors about what happened in the Gryffindor section to Weasley), he put it in and set the next step in motion, only for the liquid in his cauldron to go bright vivid orange, and start emitting heat well above what the burner he had it on should have been capable of.

Snape immediately vanished his work, "It's amusing, Potter," He said mockingly, "It so like your father to make a foolish mistake and endanger your fellow students, twenty points from Hufflepuff for being a dangerous imbecile."

Harry wasn't pleased.

After class, he compared his notes with all of the friends. Neville always had trouble, but he knew so much about the plants involved that he was the go to man for an explanation about why any given reaction had happened. Hermione knew the instructions front to back, and Hannah had an almost preternatural talent for understanding what happened in any given potion at any given time.

Neville confirmed his understanding of what could have, and evidently did go wrong. Hannah had been next to him during the lesson though, and confirmed that he had done every step right. They couldn't figure it out.

The friend's next DADA lesson was significantly more subdued than the last. It was a rough toss-up in Harry's mind as to whether or not the first class was run into the ground by incompetence or bad luck. He knew his own particular brand of fortune, so Harry decided to give the man the benefit of the doubt. Nym and Neville, one being immune to appearances and the other being unattracted to the man, were both in the same place.

Susan, Hannah, and Hermione were all looking forward to having a real lesson with the man. To everyone's amusement, Hermione actually had drawn small hearts around Lockhart's block in her schedule. Harry was pretty certain he was the only one to notice that Hannah quickly hid her schedule when the friends saw Hermione's.

The class itself began with Lockhart firmly planted in a seat at the head of the room. There was no quiz this time, instead Lockhart called out Harry to re-enact scenes from his heroic battle with the Wagga Wagga Werewolf.

Of course, Harry did his best to re-form himself into a werewolf. He gained a full meter in height and added something like two stone of muscle to his frame. When he began growing hair everywhere and reforming his face to a much more canine look, Lockhart actually screamed a little and with his voice cracking slightly said, "NO! No! I meant for you to er... retain your usual form. No need to frighten the other students!"

Harry took a brief look at the class, everyone seemed intrigued by his transformation, the only person not looking interested was Nym, who was wearing a very superior air, as if she felt she could do better, "Professor, they all look okay to me, I just thought I'd add a little authenticity. I can change my muscles density to something pretty close to a werewolf, so you should be able to show exactly how you put it down. You don't need to worry about me, I heal pretty fast so you shouldn't be able to hurt me."

The adult still looked like he might wet himself if Harry started growling, his look only got worse when a few of the other student made noises of agreement, "Err... well okay," he gulped audibly, "I suppose we could do that."

Harry finished the shift in his face from human to lycan, elongating his jaw considerably and expanding his teeth. The class was almost immediately treated to the surreal sight of a werewolf failing to fight off a huge sneeze, "AAAACHOOOO! ... Woah, sorry professor, your cologne is just really strong with a canine nose. More sensitive you know. Excuse me."

Nym briefly shifted her nose to match Harry's before sneezing herself in agreement.

Ignoring the fact that his students were roughly half his size, and in fact far too young for any technique to help them against an actual werewolf, Lockhart picked up his book with shaky hands and started in, "Well let's see, yes, the werewolf came directly at me, as Harry and I are oriented now, the beast was on all fours," Harry obligingly moved, "And it was charging full tilt at me."

Harry moved in an exaggerated manner towards the professor.

"I put both my hands together in a double fist, and as it came in range I struck its head to the side!"

Harry continued his exaggerated walk right up to the professor, who made a fist with his right hand, folded his left over it, and with a move worthy of Harry's favorite captain of the Enterprise, smacked him in the side of the head. Lockhart had put a bit of force into the blow, enough to make it convincing without hurting him, but Harry nearly stood back up in confusion.

Canine skulls connected more at the back of the skull than the bottom, as human do. The werewolf form carried that along, and coupled with it went a drastic expansion of upper body muscles, especially along the trapezius and deltoid muscles. It was why werewolves were able to run on all fours. A strike to the side of the head of a werewolf wouldn't be like a similar move on a human, the muscles around there just wouldn't let the head move very far laterally. The move Lockhart just described would have made the werewolf angry, and very little else.

He decided to let it go.

Lockhart continued, "The hit diverted the slavering monster to my left and into the ground!"

Harry followed the action the professor was excitedly describing, but his mind refused to stop pointing out that inertia just didn't work this way, at least not without a blow that would have broken both of the attractive wizard's forearms.

"While he was shaken by the blow I delivered a punishing kick to his chest, and finished it off with a stab to the neck with my trusty silver belt knife! "

The class erupted in applause, which seemed to make Lockhart expand where he stood. The man gave a wide bow as Harry made his way back to his seat. There were a lot of holes in that confrontation, he thought. It was possible for it to have happened that way, but it would require someone like him or a half-giant like Hagrid.

As he sat, Harry met Nym's eyes and saw her raise an eyebrow. Yep. She had spotted it too. The rest of the class was dedicated to the same material the book covered, namely the best ways to arrange one's hair during a fight, and how to not chip a nail during the same.

The metamorphs sighed.

The week ended, and as it did, new trouble made its way into the friend's lives.

Saturday morning they made their way up from the badger's dungeon home to the great hall for breakfast, and as they sat down Harry noticed something strange from the Gryffindor table.

The stares from the school had actually dropped off during the week, and the whispers that seemed to stop when Harry or any of the others entered the room also seemed to be happening less. When the legendary Hogwarts rumor mill figured out that Harry Potter was actually no different than Harry Bones had been (being harder to find when he didn't want to be notwithstanding), most people seemed content to just let it go. All of which was exactly why as they sat for breakfast two first year lions staring directly at harry, not moving, eating, or talking, seemed unusual.

Harry went for a normal porridge, Nym her favored bacon and eggs, Susan, Hannah, and Neville all preferred fruit, and Hermione went with coffee and toast. After a moment, Luna joined them at their table, a plain bacon sandwich adorning her plate as a pair of gentle bobbing and floating plums adorned her ears.

Harry sat next to Nym, and was playing his morning game of seeing how red he could turn Nym before she either threatened to, or just straight up stabbed him. Luna took the seat to Harry other side, and as he began floating all the bacon just outside her reach. With a smile, Luna removed her own wand and began floating the pieces closer to Nym, putting them inside her reach. Harry harrumphed and began working harder to make the rashers dance a bit farther away.

A smile pierced Nym's normal morning malaise as she elongated her arm slightly to snatch the pieces Luna floated closer.

After thoroughly distracting the pair of metamorphs from their daily breakfast game, Luna reminded Harry of his earlier observation, "I saw you noticed them earlier. They're still looking you know."

Harry lost concentration on his spell, the final piece of bacon he was playing with falling directly into Nym's eggs, splashing egg fragments onto her robes, "What do you mean?"

As Nym scowled and murmured scourgify, Luna indicated the table behind her where the young lions were still directing an unblinking gaze.

"Who are they? I remember the boy, he's something Creevey. He looked disappointed to be in Gryffindor when he was sorted."

Luna smiled as she responded, "Well if who he's sitting with is any indication, I know why."

Nym's floating blob of porridge danced above Harry's head as he said, "Well given the red hair she's probably a Weasley, but what's her name?"

The dreamy blonde's smile widened as the blob slowly descended towards the back of Harry's robes, "Her name is Ginerva. She prefers Ginny. The Weasleys live near me in Ottery St. Catchpole, I used to play with her when we were both younger. She is somewhat... obsessed with the boy who lived. She used to make me act out marriage ceremonies with her."

Harry's expression darkened, Luna's continued brightening.

"I received the honor of standing in for the esteemed Harry Potter. After her mum caught us re-enacting the wedding for the fourth time she never came over to play anymore."

"Well at least all the creepy stalker types are all gathering in one place. Makes avoiding them easier I suppose."

Luna made noises of agreement as lukewarm porridge found its way down the shirt boy sitting across from her. Her dreamy smile reached the limits of her face as his cries of indignation filled the air.

Later that day, after bewitched porridge found its way inside Nym's shirt, retaliatory porridge was slung at Harry and hit Neville, Susan and Hannah conjured porridge all over both Harry and Nym for interrupting their teasing of their favorite male friend, and everyone took a shower and changed clothes again, Harry, Nym and Neville al went out to see Hagrid.

The half-giant's dragon egg had hatched during the summer, and with the support of the centaur herd in the forest and a few of the wood nymphs who lived in the forest he had begun raising and training the Norwegian Ridgeback.

From letters Harry received in the messy scrawl of his oathsworn friend the family knew that the dragon was responding well to the love and training it was receiving from its somewhat unusual adopted family. Dragons, it seemed, were like highly intelligent, massive, and deadly dogs. They took direction well if started on it at an early age, and they loved to pee on trees.

Hagrid named his newest and arguably deadliest pet Norbert, and according to his letters was incredibly embarrassed when the chieftain of the centaur herd revealed that the dragon was in fact a female. It turned out that dragons imprinted on the first being they saw when they hatched, and that once named, they didn't take well to changes.

Overall, the three were really excited to meet Norbert the lady dragon.

So far the dragon hadn't been noticed by any regulatory body, and by the lack of reaction from the staff room they assumed that she had also escaped the notice of the headmaster. In an effort to keep that going, Hagrid met them at his cabin and led them deep into the forest. The acromantula were usually a big and deadly concern to anyone going into the forest, but with a fire-breathing dragon flying freely around the forest, the spiders had retreated to the absolute depths of their territory.

Before any of the three knew it, they happened into a massive clearing. At the center of it was a mound of rocks piled on top of one another. It was obviously a magical construction, as it was clearly a pile of rocks but a massive yawning hole was open on one side. A thin cloud of smoke continuously wafted from the top of the hole. The three teenagers shared a glance. No one needed the full three guesses to figure out where the dragon was being kept.

As they came closer, Harry began feeling a bit of the magic rolling off of the place. It was another presence like what he felt when he came back to Hogwarts, or what he felt when he went near the forest. As usual though, it was different. The pile felt... fiery? And it had a hint of something that was like the smell of dry ground right when it starts to ran. When you can see the drops of water fall from the sky and hit the ground, each raising its own small cloud of earth. Then there was a smidge, just a soupçon of something that felt like Hagrid.

If he had to guess, Hagrid and the centaurs had gotten together and built this shelter for the forest's new protector. And when Norbert moved in she brought the natural magic that filled a dragon with her.

It was interesting; Harry had to stop for a moment and close his eyes, drinking in the strange feelings.

"Norbert! Norby! Where are ya lass? I got a few new friend here ter meet ya!"

A large puff of smoke from the artificial cave answered Hagrid's call. After a moment, a massive scaled head poked out of the hole. Norbert was a deep and dark green, so dark it seemed like it was almost black. She blinked her eye a few times, as if adjusting to the light outside her home.

"C'mere, girl!," Hagrid called out as he clapped Harry on the shoulder, "This here's yer lord, without him someone woulda taken ye away from me. So just like we practiced now, yeah?"

At that the dragon left its cave and ambled over to the people. It moved slowly and calmly, which was excellent as there were at least three being present who would have soiled themselves should there have been any fast or suspicious movement.

When she got near the kids, she stopped and brought her great head down to the young one's eye level. turning her head to the side so he one massive eye peeked down at him, Norbert seemed to look deeply at Harry, as if weighing and judging him. Harry felt his blood pressure spike, Hedwig whispered calming nothings in the back of his head, and the small piece of him that was attached to Gabrielle seemed concerned. Norbert took an immense sniff of the boy, the strength of her breathing causing his robes to flutter and be pulled towards her. With another short look the she-dragon drew herself up to her full height.

Hagrid began grinning as the dragon lowered its head; bring one massive forelimb into its chest and folding a wing in alongside in what was unmistakably a bow.

Harry couldn't take it. He just broke down into laughter.

Norbert seemed to almost take offense, but as Hagrid joined Harry in his joyous laughter (Neville and Nym managing only quiet and scared chuckles), she seemed to catch the humor.

"Lady Norbert, I'll have you know I require one thing from all of my vassals, but from you, I will require two," Harry said in an overly pompous tone.

Norbert brought her head in close to the kids again, thoroughly spooking Neville and Nym again. The dragon wore an expression of unmistakable interest and questioning. She wanted to know what Harry wanted.

"I charge you with the protection of this forest and all of its inhabitants. Through Hagrid, I will always take care of you, but in exchange, you must protect this place."

Norbert's face withdrew a few feet as she looked down at her claws. She seemed to be weighing her options again before shaking her head in an unmistakable yes.

"Excellent! The other thing I require is something Hagrid has already done for me, but if you would grant me this boon I would be forever grateful."

The draconian head moved back in to the students and their massive escort.

Harry opened his arms wide and with his best puppy dog eyes called out to the dragon, "Hug?"

After the first week ended, a fairly calm routine made itself known. The friends continued to do excellently in their classes, whether from genuine personal skill or from advice from some of history's foremost thinkers in most of the fields they studied.

Godric's journals alongside James' brought the friends through transfiguration with flying colors. Ravenclaw and Lily did much the same for charms. Lily's notes contained a number of excellent insights into the potions brewing process, but sadly did not have wisdom about why exactly Harry's potions always seemed to fail in the worst possible manner.

When his withering potion nearly gassed the classroom after his swelling solution nearly formed a form of magical nitroglycerin, the friends gave up. The two theories they had were that either Professor Snape was trying to kill him, or his ability to make potions was literally cursed.

Defense turned into another joke class. Since the first day when Lockhart knocked himself out, they only seemed to reenact his exploits in class. His books were mostly about how to look good battling evil, but they were each suspiciously light on the battling evil part of the deal. The friends really hoped his class would be the part of his adventures that his books lacked, but two weeks was enough to teach them otherwise.

Harry and Nym shared their thoughts on the flaws in the pretty-boy's werewolf technique. Hannah was quick to point out that only a demi-human would even consider closing with a werewolf to begin with. Lycanthropy only affected 'pure' humans, so Lockhart would have to have been insane to consider hand to hand with one.

His other lessons had similar flaws in them. Only someone who was literally deaf could get close enough to a banshee to punch it. No known silencing spell was effective against their magically enhanced shrieks. His descriptions and pantomimes of tracking down a family of yeti were no less ludicrous. Yetis were known for their elusiveness. That only the vaguest rumors of their existence had ever reached the mundane world was proof enough of it. It would take a master woodsman to find and stalk a family group of them, and given the fact that the golden haired professor routinely tripped on his way down the stairs from his office, his stories stunk.

Either he was lying about how he did his feats, or he hadn't been the one to do any of them.

Hermione, Susan, and Hannah were quick to jump to his defense, but neither had counterclaims for the arguments Harry and Nym put forward.

Outside of class, the two creepy Gryffindor first years began following Harry around, and they didn't seem to stop their staring. Harry and Nym solved the issue by glamoring their robes to look like other houses' and morphing to other features. Luna simply laughed at them, and in a voice that said she knew something they didn't told them that it wouldn't be enough.

Harry and Nym went out to visit Hagrid every weekend.

All in all, it was a normal year. Right up until Harry's least favorite day of the year.