𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 [𝐇𝐨𝐠𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬]

Chapter Nine

𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐃:

𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎
- THE ROUGE BLUDGER

𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 the disastrous episode of the pixies, Professor Lockhart had not brought live creatures to class. Instead, he read passages from his books to them, and sometimes reenacted some of the more dramatic bits.

He usually picked Harry and [y/n] to help him with these reconstructions; so far, Harry had been forced to play a simple Transylvanian villager whom Lockhart had cured of a Babbling Curse and [y/n] as the princess who was saved, she was pretty sure the princess role was made up but she kept quiet.

He's still a teacher who's in charge of making her grades. Sometimes Harry even played 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 was hauled to the front of the class during their very next Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, this time acting a werewolf. If he hadn't had a very good reason for keeping Lockhart in a good mood, he would have refused to do it.

"Nice loud howl, Harry! 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, Harry . Higher than that, good, the fur vanished. The fangs shrank, and he turned back into a man. 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 returned to the back of the room, where Ron, Hermione, and [y/n] were waiting.

"Ready?" Harry muttered.

[y/n] nodded, "Let's go."

Five minutes later, they were barricaded in Moaning Myrtle's out-of-order bathroom once again. Hermione had overridden Ron's objections by pointing out that it was the last place anyone in their right minds would go, so they were guaranteed some privacy. Moaning Myrtle was crying noisily in her stall, but they were ignoring her, and she them.

[y/n] opened Moste Potente Potions carefully, and the three of them bent over the spotless pages, as if it was new. Despite it looking neat and clean some of the potions had effects almost too gruesome to think about, and there were some very unpleasant illustrations, which included a man who seemed to have been turned inside out and a witch sprouting several extra pairs of arms out of her head.

"Here it is," said [y/n] excitedly as she found the page headed The Polyjuice Potion. It was decorated with drawings of people halfway through transforming into other people. Harry sincerely hoped the artist had imagined the looks of intense pain on their faces.