After getting clean, it was a rush to Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration class. The four were out of breath from the run and practically collapsed in their seats, Their fatigue, not alone as other Gryffindors made their way in before McGonagall started the class. Unlike their first year, she wasn't waiting on the table as a cat. She would most likely come into the room the minute class started. Hermione sat next to Neville as Ron took a seat next to Harry.
It was mere minutes for the class to be in full attendance and Professor McGonagall walked in. Talking went down to silence as no one wished to anger the Deputy Headmistress of the school, so soon into the year at least.
"It is good to see all of you back and on time," she spoke clearly as she walked to her desk. Her wand out, she swished and flicked, sending a beetle to everyone's table.
"Today will be your refresher on magic, as the rules make it so casting is not allowed outside class walls until you are an adult. Your assignment is to turn your beetle, into a button."
With that statement, the class began, attempting to do the magic they had cast the previous year. Hermione didn't hesitate to help Neville as she completed the assignment rather quickly much to McGonagall's delight, awarding ten points to Gryffindor. Ron pulled out his own wand and whispered the spell required to change the small beetle into a button. Just a button. Nothing fancy. His face contorted into confusion as the beetle all too easily shifted form into a glossy button. Gently, he picked up the button, ready for it to reveal a set of wings or little legs from an incomplete spell. It was not the case though as it was fully plastic. A feat he had trouble with the previous year when they had been using rats to make goblets.
His eyes darted over to Harry to see him having a bit of trouble from his summer without magic. He relaxed, believing he had figured out why the spell was now easier. He had been working with Doctor Strange during the summer, still casting spells. Harry had not. It wasn't that he was better, it was the fact that he got to keep in the flow of using his magic. That had to be it.
Harry happened to look over to see the button in Ron's hand.
"Do not ask me how I did it Harry," Ron chuckled. He rubber his eyes similar to a tired manner. "Just eh, don't make the button complex, keep it the same color as the bug and uh... give it a go?"
Harry rolled his eyes accepting Ron's less than stellar and rather basic advice with good humor as he tried the spell again.
"Mr. Weasley," Professor McGonagall gasped. Ron stilled and didn't turn his head, more focused on Harry. There was a moment of silence before she spoke again, "Mr. Weasley-Barton."
"Yes Professor?" He didn't hesitate to respond once the last name he had grown up with and had associated with himself had been added. He looked at her with wide eyes and as innocent of an expression as he could muster. Her eyes locked with his and then to his button.
"I see you have completed the assignment." She held out her hand. Ron quickly gave her the button, not looking to test her temper on something as minor as looking at a button that was once a beetle. She looked over it quickly. Her eyes caught far more than Ron's did as she returned it to him, "Very good. Next time, try to make it without the beetle's shell pattern."
Ron looked back at his button as she walked away. Lifting it to the light, he could see the faint lines that were part of the beetle's shell that hid the wings. For now though, it was good enough for Ron. It was a perfectly functional button.
Two classes good enough, and only Defense Against the Dark Arts for their school day was well and good. Well, he did have a lesson with Doctor Strange after the Defense Against the Dark Arts, but with the two spells Doctor Strange had him working on, he was more eager to learn them and to move on to more engaging spells. Like his portal spell he used all the time. It was by far the most versatile spell Ron had seen and Doctor Strange seemed to do it effortlessly.
He was taken out of his train of thought with the end of class, Harry getting his attention. Hermione having darted ahead, all to eager to get a good seat in Professor Lockhart's class, dragging poor Neville behind.
"C'mon Ron. We've got Defense class next," Harry said as he gathered his belongings. Ron shook his head and stood up, also grabbing his belongings.
"Harry, have you ever wondered why we don't just abbreviate Defense Against the Dark Arts?" he asked in all seriousness. Both began to walk towards said class as Harry answered, "I think that calling a class DADA might make people not take it seriously."
"You think? I thought a lot of people did things because of their parents."
Harry raised a brow, but didn't say anything more on the odd subject as they made their way through the halls.
Both had been stopped in the halls due to young first years getting excited meeting The Harry Potter, or due to being lost in which Harry and Ron got them sorted out in the right direction. Colin, Ron was sure he was just trying to get another picture of Harry. Admist the chaos, he did see Ginny look around, looking lost as could be. He didn't know how to approach her. He didn't initially want to approach any of the British Weasleys.
"Hey Colin. What class are you heading to next?"
"Oh! Transfiguration. I think it's a left than a right?"
"A right then a left, take the stairs up as they face the murals, not the windows."
"Thanks!"
"Hey Colin, would you do me a favor?"
"What?" he asked with wide eyes filled with excitement.
"See that girl over there?" he asked pointing to Ginny who was looking more frantic and in his general direction, "She's in your class and she's looking a bit lost. Can you help her get to class?"
"Sure thing!" he replied. He bound over to Ginny, surprising her. Ron couldn't hear what was said as he and Harry rushed to class. He did glance back and saw his sister follow Colin. She turned her head and their eyes met. Quicker than most, she turned her head away to follow Colin. Ron did his best to shrug it off as he and Harry entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts room. Ron noticed a quick disparity of many of the girls getting seats up front, Neville being next to Hermione as she had dragged him as an exception, and many of the boys were sitting in the back.
Ron and Harry found themselves in the very back where the only available seats were.
The room held a different atmosphere than it had the year prior. It was grand, epic in it's feel. It would be cool if not for the artwork of their teacher strewn about the room. His smile felt eery, surronding them. Hollow almost. And the faint scent of something fruity, like his Auntie Tasha's perfume when she was going off on one of her, shall not speak of it, missions.
They were always the missions that made her quiet for a while. A few minutes maybe, but they always worried Ron when he was little. As if when she went out with the smell, she might come back, but not be his Auntie Tasha afterwards.
She was always better not long after, but it was better with a cup of hot chocolate. He could really go for a cup.
He hoped that the room wouldn't always smell like it did.
Lost in his thoughts, he was startled with by the dramatic door opening of Gilderoy Lockhart. The man stood with his smile smuggly put in its' usual place.
"Hello students. Isn't it a pleasure to be here, among all the wonders and oppertunities," he commented his hands flourished and well timed. Each movement was precise. Cooridinated. Somehow, unsettling.
"I hope you are ready to learn from me," he said as he graciously picked up Neville's copy of Travels with Trolls, the portrait on the front as it winked to the class. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award- but I don't talk about that, not when you're all here to learn. Afterall, I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"
Hermione gave a quiet chuckle at his words. Ron just wanted to gag.
Gilderoy Lockhart lowered the book down on Nevill's stack of books. He looked around to see everyone with their own stack of his books of various conditions.
"I see all of you have obtained a complete set of my books- well done. Since you all have the proper reading material, I believe we should start today with a small quiz. Nothing to worry about-" he made sure to cut off the students before the inevitable moans started, "It's just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in..."
He handed out the test papers and returned to his desk and proclaimed, "Thirty minutes should be plenty of time. You may start... now."
Ron's eyes went down to the paper. He didn't know he'd have to read all of the books before arriving. No that would be silly. It was a way to see what needed to be studied.
Then he read the first question.
What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?
What the heck kind of question was that?
What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?
No he read that right. Why would that question be on a Defense test?
Honestly this sounded so obscure- oh...
Like a spy mission.
Where any and all information could be vital even when it seemed useless. A color could tell a person's prefrence to hide something. He hadn't read the books but he had spent more time with him than he liked. Both times, in fact even now, he was wearing a light shade of purple.
It couldn't hurt to put it down.
He wrote down light purple.
What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?
Ron answered, to protect and educate. Vague, but considering his books on him protecting people and the fact he was now a teacher, it seemed legit.
What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?
Becoming Hogwarts Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher.
"Tut, tut- hardly any of you remembered that my favorite color is lilac. I mention it in Year with the Yeti. And a few of you need to reread Wanderings with Werewolves a bit more carefully. The twelfth chapter I believe it was, I state my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples- though I personally couldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey," he chuckled. He gave a rougish wink and Ron sat there in disbelief, trying to gage if the man was secretly brilliant for testing them on retaining obscure knowledge, or a narcissist of unknown proportions.
He vaguely noted Dean and Seamus shaking in their seats, silently snickering. His eyes drifted to Hermione and Neville. Neville was stone still but his body language just screamed bored, even as he looked at the back of his head. Hermione was the opposite, her elbows on the table helping her lean forward, no doubt enraptured by Lockhart's mentioning her name.
"...but Miss Granger knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-car products-good girl! In fact, full marks! Where is Miss Granger?"
Ron's brows shot up when he saw her shyly raising her hand. Who was this man and what did he do with Mione?!
"Beautiful work my dear. Ten points to Gryffindor. Now... onto business," he said in a dramatic tone. He crouched behind the desk and lifted a covered and shaking cage.
"Defense Against the Dark Arts should not be taken lightly. One wrong move, one wrong spell can have horrific consequences. I am here to teach you how to overcome such hazards should you meet them in life. You may find yourself facing your worst fears here, perhaps even discovering them. Have faith though, for so long as I'm here, no harm can befall you. I ask that you all remain calm in the face of danger."
Those were the words of a teacher, ones he could see Doctor Strange using. But they weren't the most comforting.
The class collectively leaned in at the seriousness of his mood, the laughing had stopped and all eyes were on the well curled blond man.
"I must ask you not scream," he spoke lowly, "We don't want to provoke them."
The whole class held their breath as Gilderoy pulled the cover away. Inside the cage were a multitude of skinny limbed, blue creatures with gossamer like wings and pinched; pointed faces, darting frantically in their enclosed space.
"Cornish pixies?" Seamus laughed.
"Freshly caught Cornish pixies dear boy," Gilderoy smuggly replied as though that tidbit changed everything. Ron had no idea if it did.
"Those aren't very dangerous," he wheezed.
"Don't be so sure," Gilderoy wiggled his finger as though scolding a young child. His eyes seemed to snap cold for a moment before he spoke again, "Devilish tricky little blighters they can be. Small enough to get out of reach, unified enough to lift even the grounds keeper high into the air, these Cornish Pixies are nothing to laugh about."
His eyes went down to the lock and he flourished his wand, "But, in the pursuit of learning and your confidence that they aren't so dangerous, let's see what you make of them."
His wand touched the lock and the door flew open. Wildly fast eight inch blue pixies were running a muck of the place making many duck beneath their desks. Damage and destruction were everywhere. Ron could compare it to a bull in a china shop, but his mind went back to the chaos in New York from the invasion.
The broken glass. The chaos. Everything out of control because someone wanted a show of power.
"Come on now, round them up. They're just pixies."
Logically, it was Lockhart. He was in Hogwarts. The invasion was two years ago. This man wasn't a power hungry Norse god wannabe.
"Well, I guess I must, Peskipiski Pesternomi!" His words were clear but it did nothing to stop the chaos. Ron peered out to see a pixie pluck his wand out of his hand and casually toss it out the second story window. His face contorted into one of slight fear even as his smile remained. It was then the merciful school bell rang and students fled from the room with Cornish Pixies on their heels, throwing all sorts of odds and ends at them. It was only when he, HermioneGranger, Neville and Harry were left in the room that they were singled out.
"Well, you three seem to be taking this challenge head on. Confidence is good. Next step, put the pixies back in their cage."
Ron was gobsmacked as he just walked back into his office and shut the door, leaving the four of them with the pixies who didn't seem too interested in leaving the room. Yet.
Ron took a deep breath and slipped on his gloves from Doctor Strange. He cast the barrier spell on the room, with the open door and window however, it was more a concsious effort to keep it up rather than a one and done.
"Guys! Stop them!" Ron squeaked out. The pixies began to grab at him, pulling him off the ground. He fought his panic at the chaos and lack of control to hold the barrier. Hermione fired off freezing charms, stunning the pixies so Neville and Harry could grab them and place them back into their cage. Ron felt his robes be hooked to something and found the pixies who had been carrying him, frozen, just floating near his robes. He reached and grabbed the tricksters, only to realize he was hanging by a chandelier.
"Hold on Ron!"
The levitation spell they had learned the year prior took hold of Ron, getting him off the light fixture, before lowering him gently down to the ground. He shover his set of pixies into the cage as soon as he landed. His hands felt clammy and his face felt hot in emotions that were too overwhelming to sort through.
"Can you believe him?!" he screeched.
"He just wanted to give us some hands on experience," Hermione defended, "He had to do so in his books."
"Hands on?!" Harry barked, "The man didn't have a clue what he was doing!"
"I agree with Harry. Who sends out something that could kill you on the first day of class?"
"Potions uses ingridients that can kill. We just dealt with Mandrakes and they are potentially fatal."
"Potentially." Ron repeated, pointing out that they were dealing with the baby, not the full grown ones that killed by scream.
"Besides, you've all read his books. Look at all the amazing things he's done!"
"The things he's said he's done," Ron muttered.
Mysticarts I can feel you're glare from here. I know what you're thinking.
MA:oh about the story? I am working on it
Better be. Venture's Adventure for Takos needs an update.