180: The Worst of The Defence Against the Dark Arts Professors...

During lunch break, Eve couldn't find Nolan.

But she did find Miles, who was happily devouring a plate of French sausages while boasting to a group of first-year Slytherins about his influence at Hogwarts.

So, she walked up and asked, "Where's Nolan?"

Miles grumbled, shoving another piece of sausage into his mouth. "Some Ravenclaw girl from fourth year dragged him away. Her name's Iska."

His expression soured as he added bitterly, "She spent all last term talking to me—I actually thought she was interested!"

Montague clapped a sympathetic hand on Miles' shoulder. "Oh, mate, don't kid yourself." He sighed dramatically. "A girl having a crush on you? We all know—that's never happening."

Miles nearly choked on his food. "You absolute bastard!"

But deep down, he was filled with regret.

Not because Nolan was getting attention—oh, no.

But because he had been the one feeding Iska all sorts of information about Nolan last year. If only he'd been smarter about it, he could have dazzled her with his own Miles charm instead!

Eve scowled. "Dragged away by a girl?" Her mood soured instantly. "Again? This is only the first day of school!"

Without another word, she stormed out of the Great Hall.

Behind her, Miles shouted after her: "Keep an eye on him, Eve! If he keeps charming every girl at Hogwarts, there won't be anyone left for Montague and me!"

"Hey, don't lump me into this!" Montague punched Miles in the arm.

Eve spent quite some time searching for Nolan.

She finally found him—tucked away in a secluded corner of the castle.

And at that moment, the Ravenclaw girl was leaning in, clearly about to kiss him.

Eve cleared her throat loudly.

The sudden noise startled Iska, who jumped back, her face flushing in embarrassment. But rather than looking guilty, she looked annoyed.

With a huff, she shouldered past Eve on her way out, bumping into her deliberately. "Don't get too cocky, Stock."

Eve let out a cold, derisive snort.

Then, she turned to Nolan, her arms crossed. "Did I interrupt something?"

Nolan merely shrugged. "Not at all. Even if you hadn't come, I was going to turn her down."

"You'd better." Eve huffed, but after a moment, her irritation softened. "I don't want to feel like I'm controlling you, but let's be honest—your family and your bloodline don't give me much of a choice. If no one keeps an eye on you, you'll just keep collecting lovers indefinitely. And you think that's a good thing?"

Nolan shook his head, his expression unreadable.

This was a conversation they had trouble seeing eye to eye on.

Eve was trying to adapt to vampire customs, learning their moral standards, their way of thinking.

She understood that expecting strict monogamy from a long-lived species was unrealistic.

But that didn't mean it was easy to accept.

"I don't accept romantic advances easily," Nolan assured her. "You're worrying too much."

"Who knows?" Eve sighed.

She didn't seem eager to continue the discussion. "Come on," she said instead. "We have Transfiguration this afternoon, and you still have to finish that book with Professor McGonagall. I'll help you with it later tonight."

As they walked back toward the Great Hall, they stumbled upon an odd sight.

Gilderoy Lockhart, looking as dramatic as ever, was strutting down the corridor—dragging none other than Harry Potter along with him.

Eve narrowed her eyes. "What do you suppose that's about?"

"No idea," Nolan muttered. "I didn't think Potter was particularly close to that guy."

Before they could speculate further, Lockhart's booming voice filled the hallway.

"*Oh, Harry, Harry, Harry!" Lockhart sighed theatrically, shaking his head as though deeply disappointed. His blindingly white teeth flashed as he continued, "I understand your thought process. You got a taste of the spotlight, and now, of course, you want more!"

Harry blinked. "What?"

"You remember, don't you?" Lockhart pressed, his eyes gleaming. "That day at Flourish and Blotts? When I made you famous? When I got you on the front page of The Daily Prophet?"

Harry's expression darkened. "*You—you didn't make me famous—"

"Now, now!" Lockhart waved him off, looking remorseful. "I should have known this would happen. It was my mistake—I never should have let you taste the thrill of the headlines so soon! And now, look! You've gone and done something reckless just to get back on the front page!*"

Harry stared at him in horror. "Professor, what are you talking about?"

Lockhart tsk-tsked, shaking his head again. "That flying car stunt, obviously! Trying to get yourself into the papers again—oh, Harry, Harry, Harry! I blame myself, really!"

Harry opened his mouth, likely to protest loudly, but Lockhart barreled on, completely ignoring him.

"Oh, I know exactly what you're about to say," Lockhart cut in smoothly. "'But Professor Lockhart, I'm already famous! I'm already a beloved, celebrated international wizard!' And of course, I can't argue with that!"

He winked at Harry.

"But," he added dramatically, "when I was twelve, I wasn't nearly as famous as you! I hadn't defeated the Dark Lord! I hadn't flown a car into Hogwarts! Right?"

He gave Harry a conspiratorial nudge, as if expecting him to laugh along.

But Harry's face had turned an unhealthy shade of green.

He looked like he wanted to disappear.

"Of course," Lockhart continued, still grinning smugly, "this may not compare to winning Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award five years in a row—but, Harry, it's a start!"

With that, he flourished his robes and strode away, leaving Harry standing in the middle of the corridor, looking utterly shell-shocked.

A moment later, he collapsed into a crouch, gripping his head in silent agony.

His lips moved soundlessly, forming a string of "Aaaaarghs."

Eve bit her lip, trying not to laugh. "I think I actually feel bad for Potter now," she whispered. "Merlin knows how insufferable that Lockhart professor is."

"I wouldn't know," Nolan muttered. "But the fourth-year Slytherins had his class this morning..."

For the first time in a long while, Nolan's face twisted in genuine disgust. "According to them, this might be the worst Defense Against the Dark Arts professor yet."

Eve patted him reassuringly. "We already knew that, didn't we?"

…

That afternoon was Transfiguration, and this year, Slytherin shared the class with Ravenclaw.

Professor McGonagall, as always, commanded absolute discipline. No one dared slack off in her lessons. No one dared misbehave.

Today's assignment?

Each student was handed a small animal, and their task was to make it fatter.

"Weight manipulation?" Miles whispered to Nolan. "I bet you anything—once the girls learn this spell, they'll be using it on themselves non-stop."

"It won't help them," Nolan replied smoothly. "All the spell does is alter the appearance of body fat—it doesn't actually get rid of it. You can make yourself look thin, or look muscular, but the fat stays exactly where it is."

With a lazy flick of his wand, Nolan's British Shorthair cat instantly ballooned into a ridiculously fat, round creature—like something straight out of a cartoon.

Eve, meanwhile, had successfully puffed up her parrot, turning it into a perfectly round sphere with wings.

The parrot let out a squawk of outrage, flapping its wings desperately in an attempt to escape its new, unfortunate form.

But no matter how hard it tried, it couldn't lift off the ground.

"It looks like a Snitch—if the Snitch had let itself go," Eve giggled. "This is too funny."

On the other side of the room, Cho Chang had apparently messed something up.

Her hedgehog had inflated like a balloon—so much that it now resembled a pufferfish instead.

And worse?

The puffer-hedgehog started floating.

Higher…

And higher…

Until, with a loud POP!, it burst in mid-air.

The entire class erupted into laughter.

Even the Slytherins, who rarely found humor in Ravenclaw failures, couldn't help but chuckle.

Professor McGonagall, however, did not look amused.

She pressed her lips into a thin line and waited for the laughter to die down before speaking.

"The task," she said sharply, "was to make the animal fat, Miss Chang, not inflate it like a balloon."

She sighed, rubbing her temples. "Figuring out the correct method is your homework for today. Class dismissed."