The Greedy Frog
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HP: DnD Chapter 11
🕑 Added 2024-11-27 19:17:00 +0000 UTCChapter 11: An Unexpected Invitation from an Unexpected Individual.
His head throbbed as if his skull was being crushed, and each tick of the clock made him later, yet he had no time to ease his empty stomach. And with all these issues, he forced himself to make his way to class.
The class of a certain man.
‘Professor Gilderoy Lockhart.’
It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say Damien was excited for this man’s class. Of all the subjects he took, besides Professor Flitwick’s, he expected this one to be the most entertaining.
‘He’s a legendary figure,’ Damien recalled, thinking of the book he read, written by the great Lockhart himself, recounting his travels.
Gadding with Ghouls, Voyages with Vampires, Holidays with Hags, Year with the Yeti—these were some of his most popular tales.
And in Magical Me, his autobiography, Damien remembered Lockhart naming even more adventures that he hadn’t yet described to the world.
A wizard rarely had the chance to encounter magical and mystical beings like vampires. For Lockhart, it seemed almost routine, and Damien wanted to ask the professor all about it—from their personalities and powers to their habits.
After all, a book could offer information, but nothing compared to hearing about these creatures from someone who had faced them firsthand. Spoken words held a power that written ones could never match.
With a hopeful heart, he approached the classroom.
And there he saw the man: golden, wavy hair, a lilac robe, and a striking height.
Damien wondered if the new professor would be angry and punish him for being late. Snape always insulted latecomers, and McGonagall asked them to leave. He hoped that the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor would be different. From his tales, Damien believed the professor to be forgiving.
With that hope in mind, he stepped into the class.
“May I… may I come in, Professor?”
He was fifteen minutes late, a significant amount of time. He expected the professor to have already introduced himself and shared some tales—something he regretted missing.
But he consoled himself, knowing he’d still catch whatever DADA chapter the professor was going to teach.
“Oh,” the man turned towards him, and Damien could see why the women flocked to him. “A latecomer.”
He was handsome. Not blindingly so or inhumanly beautiful like Paimon, but Gilderoy Lockhart certainly looked the part of a protagonist from adventure stories.
“I apologize, Professor. I overslept.”
He knew the excuse might get him in trouble, but he figured a small fib was safer than a lie that could be easily exposed.
However, the professor didn’t seem angry.
“Ah, don’t sweat it, son,” he said. “We’ve all been there. Too much syllabus to handle in a day, am I right?”
Taken aback by the man’s nonchalant attitude, so true to his forgiving nature in the books, Damien could only nod.
“Y-Yes,” he lied. “I stayed up a bit late.”
More like he hadn’t slept at all, though the shadows under his eyes would tell the truth.
“It’s alright, Mr…” Lockhart raised an eyebrow, curious about his name.
“Damien Butler, Professor,” the boy answered respectfully, prompting a nod from the professor.
“Butler! Got it, Damien. You may take your seat.”
Relieved not to be punished or lectured on the importance of punctuality, Damien moved to his seat, which he had chosen in a corner—away from the popular kids and purebloods, and far enough to avoid professors’ direct line of sight.
“Morning.”
As he passed by, he heard the voice of one of the few girls who ignored class politics and greeted him out of sheer politeness.
“Morning, Miss Greengrass.”
He couldn’t remember when he’d started adding ‘Miss’ when referring to Daphne Greengrass, the Greengrass family heiress. It was something he didn’t do for others.
‘Perhaps it’s her grace,’ he thought, remembering how he had never seen her be anything but graceful and humble.
That’s where their interaction ended. A simple greeting, with no further conversation.
‘Not today.’
And certain that today wouldn’t be any different, he nodded briefly to Potter, who sat nearby, and took his seat in the corner.
“Now that I believe there are no more students needing to make an entrance, we can continue with our class.”
Hearing this, Damien took out his book—a very expensive one that had pained him to buy. It was written by Lockhart, which was unusual, as professors rarely taught using their own books.
What puzzled him was why a book about Lockhart’s adventures was required for DADA. It mentioned dark encounters, yes, but lacked actual dark magic or incantations.
‘It’s an interesting book, but hardly DADA material.’
Maybe the book was intended as a hook to introduce DADA concepts. Perhaps Lockhart would draw students in with tales of heroism, then explain the dark arts he encountered.
“Not everyone, but I expect the Ravenclaw students have at least glanced at the book’s contents,” Lockhart smiled. “Haven’t you, children?”
A few students nodded, Damien included. Unlike most, he hadn’t merely glanced—he’d memorized the book by heart. It was one of the few talents he took pride in.
“Perfect!” Lockhart looked pleased, seeing the students’ hands raised.
“Now, can anyone tell me what I consider my greatest achievement?”
At this, Damien found himself smiling.
‘Of course,’ he thought. ‘This is leading up to a discussion on Dark Arts surrounding werewolves and were-people.’
But what amused Damien was that only a few students seemed eager to answer, some uncertain, and others too shy to speak up.
So, he decided to raise his hand.
Something he hadn’t done earlier out of fear of being bullied by Draco and his minions.
“Ah, yes,” the man said with a bright smile. “Mr. Butler.”
"Defeating the Wagga Wagga Werewolf."
The Wagga Wagga Werewolf had once terrified an entire village, until Lockhart defeated it and cured its lycanthropy, restoring the person back to human form.
“Absolutely correct.” The man spoke with great pleasure. “Curing the Wagga Wagga Werewolf has been my greatest achievement to date.”
Damien was still amazed that he managed to cure lycanthropy. He knew that countless witches and wizards had spent years researching it without finding a concrete cure.
But Lockhart did, and that had always intrigued him. Sadly, Lockhart doesn’t share his magic, and the cure for lycanthropy remains his secret.
“Oh, what a day that was.” The man reminisced, his eyes gleaming with nostalgia. “Me, walking down a village unaware of the horrors it faced every full moon—the devastation, the claw marks, the bites.”
Lockhart had a captivating way of telling his stories, drawing people in and making them forget everything else.
“How did you defeat the werewolf, Professor?”
Damien saw the question coming from Hermione Granger, the only student who consistently achieved a perfect score on every theoretical topic.
“Oh, I tell you, it wasn’t easy.” The professor frowned. “A horrible battle, filled with gashes and bites. But in the end, I triumphed, exhausting the wolf and injecting it with the medicine I had crafted, followed by an incantation that can’t be performed by an ordinary wizard.”
The man recounted the tale with immense pride. “It took hours of wrestling, spellcasting, charms, and hexes to tame the beast and cure the lycanthropy.”
Many students looked at him with awe. “A great deal of pain, but an even greater sense of joy at being able to heal a person.”
Students nodded in admiration, including Damien. However, a question lingered in his mind.
'But how? How exactly did he defeat the wolf and cure the person?'
Lockhart didn’t explain the details, the spells, or the medicine he used—only the tale of his adventure.
“But that wasn’t my only achievement, was it?” The man looked at Damien expectantly.
“No…” Damien shook his head, still puzzled as to why the man wasn’t elaborating on the magic in his werewolf story. “You also defeated a Yeti—”
“Ah, yes,” the man interrupted, not letting Damien finish. “The Himalayan Yeti—a harsher climate and an even tougher foe.”
The tale continued, describing how he fought the Yeti, tamed it, and became a local hero, even having a statue erected in his honor.
‘Perhaps he’ll explain the magic surrounding the Yeti now,’ Damien thought, his hopes rising. ‘And the mystical conditions of the Himalayas.’
Yet he felt a pang of disappointment at Lockhart’s next question.
“And does anyone know about my adventure with the vampires?”
Again, several hands went up, while Damien sat wondering about the purpose of these stories.
“And in this class, that’s exactly what we’ll be learning,” Lockhart announced, prompting murmurs across the room. “From my journey with the vampires to my encounters with werewolves and ghouls.”
A good number of students seemed thrilled, mainly because they’d be hearing more of Lockhart’s stories.
But Damien continued to wonder, ‘How do these tales even relate to Defense Against the Dark Arts?’
He loved reading about Lockhart’s adventures and achievements, but he wanted to learn about magic, not just the stories.
‘Unless,’ Damien considered a new possibility, ‘he’s using today’s class as an introduction to the syllabus. Werewolves, vampires, ghouls… these could all be covered in DADA, from their origins to methods of defeating them.’
It began to make sense.
‘So, this is his way of drawing students’ interest for future Dark Arts classes?’ Damien was impressed. ‘He might actually be a remarkable teacher, much better than Quirrell.’
Though he remained curious about why Quirrell had left Hogwarts mid-year.
For now, however, he felt content to have a professor like Lockhart, who could captivate students’ interest and skillfully lead into topics.
“Today’s class was only an introduction, and we’ll delve into the intricacies of these adventures in upcoming classes,” the professor said. “So, until then, keep reading the books and learn as much as you can independently. Because as I recount my tales, I’ll also be giving quizzes.”
This didn’t please all the students, though Hermione Granger seemed delighted.
“And since all of you were such attentive listeners, I’ll be awarding each of you 5 points.”
If he hadn’t already won over the students, this did it.
“Until then, keep learning.”
With that, he closed his autobiography—the one book he’d kept on the table—and began making his way out of the room.
He seemed pleased with the students, and the students appeared just as pleased with their new professor.
“This might be one of the more entertaining classes, Harry!” Damien heard the voice of Ron Weasley. “It’s not as boring as the other professors, and he’s not stuck up like Snape.”
Except for the few bored students who returned to their novels or played with their quills, like Daphne and Theodore —the rest were left cheerful and excited by Lockhart’s class.
Even Damien found it somewhat enjoyable. He’d initially questioned the purpose of the class, but as he realized it was building up to something more—a promising syllabus—he, too, felt a surge of excitement.
But now that class was over, there were other matters to attend to.
Namely—
“Damien Butler.”
A feminine voice caught his attention.
“Parkinson?”
He was surprised to see her—a girl who’d never spoken to him before, barely even acknowledging his existence.
She was someone he’d always tried to avoid. Being close friends with Draco, she was just as much a bully.
Though she’d never targeted him—barely even noticed him—she had bullied others, especially Hermione and the other Muggle-borns.
He had no interest in associating with her and felt uneasy about why she was approaching him.
"Um… can I help you?" he asked, not particularly eager for conversation.
"Professor Snape asked me to call you to the headmaster’s office. Professor Dumbledore wants to see you."
“Pardon?”
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[A/N: Just a little reminder that his lie detector is not sentence based, but topic based.]
