On the fourth day of term, Hermione saw Horatio bringing out a bowl of golden chicken pieces with potatoes, mushrooms, and green peppers. He started wolfing it down with rice in the Great Hall during lunch.
"Horatio, what are you eating? It smells so good." Hermione caught the faint scent of soybean paste in the air and swallowed.
"Huh? I made this braised chicken myself. It's authentically flavored. Aside from a little magic, there are no additives or shady tricks." Horatio put a piece of chicken thigh and a slice of mushroom into his mouth, then shoveled down several mouthfuls of rice soaked in the braised chicken sauce, wearing a blissful expression.
"The chicken was a rooster Hagrid raised himself, guaranteed safe and healthy. I traded Hagrid a flying Fire Dragon toy for it." Horatio gave Hermione some, then glanced disdainfully at the eager-faced Harry across from him. "What do you want, house-elf Model No. 2? Let me remind you, it's time to get to work in my greenhouse. You don't want to become Miss Potter, do you?"
Horatio still gave the pitiful-looking Harry some. "With a boss as good to his employees as me, you should count your blessings. Working 997 is your good fortune. Oh, and your salary went up by one Silver Sickle."
Hermione asked in confusion, "What the hell is 997? And you actually pay Harry?"
Harry calmly explained, "997 means working from nine in the morning until nine at night, seven days a week. And the salary he mentioned is one I pay him, not one he pays me."
Harry had completely given up. Since he could not resist, he might as well try to accept it. Besides, he really could learn Herbology in Horatio's Greenhouse. Recently, Professor Sprout had been awarding Gryffindor points because of him in Herbology class, which made him very happy.
Hermione had just been about to say something to Horatio when he silenced her with Harry's contract of indenture. All she could do was angrily deal with the braised chicken on her plate, praying that Horatio would one day be hanged from a streetlamp.
That afternoon was Lockhart's Dark Arts Defense class. Speaking of Lockhart, one had to mention his rumored girlfriend—or perhaps boyfriend—Ron.
After all, this was England, the birthplace of Brokeback Mountain. Although Ron felt as if he had suffered a social death, he discovered that the little witches did not look down on him at all. Instead, they actively approached him to chat, which he found immensely gratifying.
Upon arriving at the Dark Arts Defense classroom, Horatio stacked Lockhart's seven books together in front of himself, then lay straight down on the desk and went to sleep.
After a while, Lockhart entered the classroom. He made a quieting gesture, and the chattering young wizards below the podium fell silent.
He reached out and picked up Voyages with Vampires, holding it up to display the cover photo of himself smiling.
"Me." He pointed to his photograph and smiled exactly as it did. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Third Class Order of Merlin, honorary member of the Dark Arts Defense League, five-time winner of Wizarding Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award. This year, I will be your Dark Arts Defense professor, but I need an assistant to help with my teaching."
Then he gazed deeply at Ron. "Mr. Ron Weasley, would you be willing to be my assistant?"
The little witches below, steeped in Britain's Brokeback Mountain culture, could not help crying out at the sight.
Ron lost himself amid their chorus of "Say yes!" and nodded with a red face.
"I see that you have all bought my complete collection of books. I think we'll begin today with a little quiz. Mr. Ron, could you help hand out these papers?" Lockhart said.
Ron stepped forward, accepted the bundle of papers from Lockhart, and distributed them one by one to the young wizards present.
"Excellent. Thank you for your help, Mr. Ron. Five points to Gryffindor."
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When Ron reached the sleeping Horatio, Lockhart's backing gave him courage. Malice rising in his heart, he shook Horatio awake and said, "Horatio, how dare you sleep in class? Get up. There's an in-class quiz to complete."
All the young wizards present looked at Ron as if he were a Champion. Harry had already begun calculating whether the money he had brought was enough to buy Ron a coffin.
"Tell me, how do you want to die?" The awakened Horatio fixed Ron with an icy gaze and pulled a bottle of pink potion from his pouch. "Prepare to say goodbye to your little buddy forever."
Lockhart stopped Horatio, who had pinned Ron to the desk and was about to force-feed him the potion. "Mr. Horatio, please let go of Mr. Ron."
Horatio released Ron's collar as he continued struggling, then turned to stare at Lockhart with an unfriendly look.
"Mr. Horatio, I have heard many rumors about you at this school. But as a holder of the Third Class Order of Merlin, I have an obligation to correct your behavior," Lockhart said sternly.
"Oh, so you mean to duel me." Horatio drew Li from his clothes and swept his thick bangs back with one hand, revealing azure eyes and a smooth white forehead.
"No, no, no. What you must deal with is the most evil thing known to the wizarding world." Lockhart bent down and lifted a large cage covered with a cloth from behind the podium, placing it on the desk.
He pulled off the cover. Inside the cage was a group of iron-blue pixies, each around eight inches tall, with small pointed faces. They continuously clawed at the bars and shrieked sharply at the young wizards outside.
"Hahaha, I thought you were going to bring out something dangerous. This? Cornish Pixies with a danger rating of 3X?" Horatio put Li away and clutched his stomach, laughing himself breathless.
"Do not underestimate them. They are mischievous little destroyers as cunning as devils!" Lockhart opened the cage door. "Now let's see how you deal with them."
The pixies shot out of the cage like rockets and began wreaking havoc throughout the classroom. Two of them flew over, trying to grab Horatio by the ears and lift him up, but Horatio casually fired a blast of Fiendfyre, burning them to ash.
Lockhart stood on the podium, dodging the pixies' attacks, seemingly intending to watch how Horatio dealt with them.
Horatio said disappointedly, "To dare place this king, who ought to be looked up to, in the same classroom as vermin like you—such disrespect is punishable by death."
As soon as he finished speaking, countless golden ripples appeared behind Horatio. Weapons of every kind slowly emerged from those golden ripples, then darted through the air, chopping every pixie still causing trouble in the classroom into pieces.
The pixies were soon minced into pixie paste by the weapons. Then the weapons turned on Lockhart and surrounded him.
Horatio slowly walked toward Professor Lockhart, who had collapsed onto the floor in terror, and whispered in his ear, "Professor, care to guess how the previous Dark Arts Defense professor died? If you don't want to share his fate, don't provoke me."
Then Horatio snapped his fingers, and the weapons in the air turned into golden dust and vanished.
Horatio turned toward Ron, who had gone limp on the floor in terror. "Come on, let's continue the punishment from earlier. Will you drink it yourself, or shall I help you drink it?"
Ron glared furiously at the terrified, vacant-eyed Lockhart. It's all because those little witches kept praising you in my ear. I thought you could punish Horatio, but you turned out to be nothing but a useless idiot.
Knowing that he could not resist, Ron took the potion from Horatio's hand, gritted his teeth, and drank it in one gulp.
Fred and George had lost a younger brother, but gained a younger sister.
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