"Harry Potter- Ravenclaw"Chapter 7: The Burning Blond
Long-buried memories from his school days resurfaced for Lockhart, reminding him just how vast the gulf was between practice and real dueling.
The instant Wyzett uttered the incantation, Lockhart's instincts took over—he snapped his wand up, slashing a straight vertical line across his chest.
But that was all he managed. The vivid flash of red light sent panic coursing through him; his mind blanked, and the words for the Shield Charm stuck in his throat. He couldn't even open his mouth.
The red light slammed into him, sending him flying backwards into the wall. He lost consciousness on impact.
As darkness closed in, only one thought echoed in his mind—That's just like Snape's Stunning Spell! What a fast Disarming Charm!
…
"Mr. Lovegood, you may step down." Snape strolled a few paces toward Lockhart, his voice lilting with theatrical cadence, lips curling into a wickedly gleeful sneer.
"Professor Lockhart, it seems I overestimated an adventurer's... self-awareness. I believe I warned you—beginners are prone to losing control. What a shame!"
"Perhaps next time, you might try holding one of your autobiographies in front of you. As a beginner, I imagine Mr. Lovegood would be happy to aim his Disarming Charm at your memoir instead."
His eyes gleamed with unrestrained mockery. "Of course, I mean nothing by it—certainly not that your autobiography is more useful than you are."
As Snape finished, the Slytherin students erupted in jeers and laughter.
The other Houses weren't quite as brazen, but even they couldn't suppress their snickers. The Great Hall rang with amusement, the air practically crackling with delight.
Only Ravenclaw looked a bit embarrassed—after all, the object of ridicule had once been one of their own. But on second thought, it was a duel between two Ravenclaws. They could just about accept it... since, well, what was done was done.
Ron turned, glancing at the dazed Lockhart crumpled on the floor. "First time I've ever wanted to laugh along with Slytherin," he muttered.
Hermione frowned, worry creasing her brow. "Professor Lockhart looks unconscious..."
"Let me try a Reviving Spell," said Harry, glancing around before raising his wand at Lockhart. "Rennervate!"
Lockhart groaned, shaking his head as he came to, his wizard's hat askew and his hair standing straight up in wild tufts.
Compared to Snape's silent Stunning Spell, Wyzett's Disarming Charm had been merciful—Lockhart wasn't writhing in agony or unable to stand.
A few loyal fans hurried over, helping the dazed professor back onto the stage.
"That book Wyzett recommended really works!" Harry said, flicking his wand. "The Disarming Charm—it's just like batting your opponent's wand away…"
…
Another round of laughter from the Slytherins greeted Lockhart as he reclaimed his wand from a helpful fan. "See that? That's the power of the Disarming Charm—my wand flew right out of my hand!"
"Of course, I didn't resist at all, just for the demonstration—so you saw a few, er, extra effects... Very practical, don't you think?"
Snape cut in, his tone blunt. "Perhaps we should try again, and demonstrate a practical counter-spell—such as, what magic might shield you from a Disarming Charm?"
Lockhart forced a laugh, his eyes darting for an escape. "Ha! Professor Snape, you're too eager! There's something even more important right now—this is the Dueling Club, after all!"
"Now it's the students' turn. Wyzett gave a splendid demonstration, so let's all practice the Disarming Charm! Professor Snape, would you help with the pairings?"
In truth, it was only Snape who took charge, prowling the hall like he did in Potions, arranging the students into pairs. Lockhart slunk off to a corner, clearly more interested in salvaging his image—he began fussing with his hair, wand in hand like a makeshift curling iron.
Snape moved between two groups, pairing Slytherins with Gryffindors, adding a spark of rivalry to the already charged Great Hall.
Draco and Harry ended up together. Both whipped their wands out in near-perfect unison, shouting the incantation:
"Expelliarmus!"
Their voices overlapped. Draco was a fraction quicker—red light sparked from his wand, but his aim was off, merely grazing Harry's wrist.
Harry's own Disarming Charm burst from his wand, but the jolt to his hand sent the spell veering into the corner, missing Draco entirely.
…
Wyzett's demonstration had made an impression—especially the bit about wand movement. Now, at least, most students could coax a flicker of red from their wand tips.
As Snape patrolled, he noted that only a handful of younger students could produce a true Disarming Charm with any effect. Unsurprisingly, those clustered around Wyzett had the steadiest results, thanks to his clear explanations.
Harry had mastered the spell after just one round. He and Draco wasted no time launching into a second duel.
Draco's casting was still quicker, but Harry had adapted. This time, he sidestepped, dodging Draco's spell before chanting the incantation and sending a red beam flying.
The spell struck Draco squarely, knocking his wand high into the air.
"Tsk…" Snape's expression soured as he watched Harry's triumphant grin.
He caught Draco's wand, about to say something—when a scream split the air from the corner.
"My hair! My hair!"
It was Lockhart. While fussing with his golden locks, his hair had caught fire, flames roaring up, filling the hall with the stench of burning eggs.
He flailed his wand at his head, trying to cast a spell, but the fire only blazed hotter, racing down to his roots.
A well-meaning upper-year tried a Vanishing Spell, but that only fed the flames.
"Finite Incantatem!" Snape strode over, calm as ever, and flicked his wand. The fire vanished in an instant.
But it was too late. As Lockhart collapsed in a faint, his once-lustrous gold hair crumbled to ash on the floor.
"How tragic…" Fred and George sidled up, but their attention was on the ashes.
They scooped the remains into their pockets. "Fire that got worse after a Vanishing Spell—even if it's gone, this is perfect for research!"
"Carelessly desecrating a professor's remains—five points from Gryffindor," Snape said icily, stepping around Fred and George to stand at Lockhart's former spot.
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