The Invisibility Cloak was one of the legendary artifacts. While rumors claid it could hide the wearer from Death itself, a claim that remained unverified, there was no doubt that anyone who used it carefully would be completely undetectable by ordinary eyes.
Thus, Harry and the others returned safely to the common room, while Dumbledore could only console himself with the thought that perhaps a higher-year student was experinting with an illusion spell. After all, he couldn't imagine why Harry would need to sneak around so late at night when no one else was even heading to the bathroom.
However, that night, the lights in Dumbledore's office stayed on until midnight. What he did or thought during that ti, no one knew.
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"Yawn~" Allen stretched and walked down the corridor into the Great Hall.
He had returned too late last night, leaving him exhausted. If it weren't for morning classes, he would have happily stayed in bed all day.
Dragging his feet into the hall, he lazily greeted the friends he ran into, only to notice their hushed whispers and secretive glances. Curiosity quickly cut his sleepiness by half.
"Hey, what's going on?" Allen asked, placing a hand on his roommate Marshall's shoulder. This kid was Hogwarts' very own gossip hub. While unreliable for major matters, no one dared claim the top spot over him when it ca to campus rumors.
The boy sitting next to Marshall gave a knowing smile and made space for Allen at the Hufflepuff table. And thus, the gossip session began.
"Allen, do you know who this year's Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is? That famous author Lockhart," Marshall said, putting down his utensils to share the latest gossip.
"Hmm, I know a little, his books are bestsellers. Didn't you buy one last year?" Allen replied, shoving a piece of pumpkin bread into his mouth.
"No way, absolutely not!" Marshall shook his head vehently, as if denying ownership would sever any connection to the professor.
"Sure, sure. Let's not forget who spent the entire sumr treasure-hunting in Egypt and ended up mopping the floor with ssy hair for a whole holiday," another student piped up, exposing Marshall's lie. Allen and the others frowned; only they, as his roommates, had known that secret.
The roommates exchanged glances, they hadn't spread the secret. The one caught leaking it, Shane, looked incredulous: "But didn't Joanna swear she wouldn't tell anyone?"
Yes, she had made them swear too. But, really, who was Joanna? Didn't Shane just get dumped last sester?
Normally, Allen and the others would have sward Shane for the latest gossip. But today, Professor Lockhart was the real star. Celebrity gossip always drew more attention than petty school drama.
"Co on, spill it, Marshall, stop stalling or I'll confiscate all the books in your bag," said the new Hufflepuff prefect, clearly overstepping his authority.
Marshall scoffed, forming a ninety-degree angle with his thumb and index finger and making a dismissive gesture. The prefect had borrowed a few books last term, Marshall wasn't intimidated.
After that, he decided to stop teasing and finally got to the point:
"Yesterday afternoon was Lockhart's debut. You know how it goes, professors usually show off so flashy trick during the first class to establish authority. Otherwise, they'd be unable to control the students."
Laughter rippled through the table. Most students, except first-years, recognized the pattern by now. Professors still adhered to this rule, and students played along, after all, bonus points were in the professor's hands.
Of course, if a professor's debut was spectacular, they wouldn't skimp on applause and cheers. Most teachers at this monopoly-like school had their own unique skills to impress students.
Once the laughter died down, Marshall continued: "Yesterday's class was second-years, Slytherin and Gryffindor in front, Ravenclaw behind us." Several second-year students nodded, confirming his intel. "Do you know what Lockhart did in the first class?"
He almost sneered as he spoke: "You won't believe this, he made a personal survey for the class! Seriously? He's a professor, not a celebrity. Was he planning so school idol project?"
Allen shuddered at the thought of Lockhart rallying a few students to chant 'Nico Nico Nii' while forming a campus cult…
Marshall, however, realized he'd overplayed it. Lockhart had many female fans, and after a few glances and disgusted reactions from students, Marshall timidly lowered his voice.
"Fine, let's skip the survey. Here's what really happened, after completing the survey and arbitrarily giving bonus points, Lockhart turned the class into a complete farce."
He rushed through the details, perhaps fearing that any pause might summon a vengeful fan. Through his clear description, everyone learned that Lockhart had released a cage of pixies, causing utter chaos.
"Another Fucker like Gilderoy," soone complained. "Why have these professors been so incompetent the last two years?" Students expected high standards in Defense Against the Dark Arts. A poor professor might cancel graduation exams, a silver lining, but reliable instruction was always preferable.
"This is unfortunate, but nothing to laugh about, Marshall," another said.
"Who said there's nothing funny? Do you know what happened in the next class?" Marshall's tone grew disdainful when no one responded.
"Alright, I'll tell you, the professor, unbelievably, released them again in the second period!"
Silence fell, heavy and awkward.
Marshall was about to lose his mind; how could sothing so funny elicit no laughter?
He finally gave in: "I an, since this professor loves those Cornwall pixies so much, why not play along?"
His gaze shifted to Allen: "I'm the banker today, we're betting on how long it'll take you to deal with all of them!"
The crowd remained silent. Marshall felt despair, but the next mont, countless coins and notes were slamd onto the table with a bang!
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