Parseltongue at the Dueling Club (I)

On Wednesday afternoon, the door to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom opened ten minutes earlier than usual.

Lockhart stood behind the lectern in a dark blue robe, without any of his usual gaudy embroidery. His collar was neatly fastened, and his blond hair was combed impeccably. A long table stood before him, piled with several stacks of parchment and a bottle of ink. As the students filed in, he was bent over writing something, his quill making a steady scratching sound across the page. Only after everyone had taken their seats did he look up, his gaze sweeping over the classroom and lingering on each face for a moment.

"Today's lesson will be different from the previous ones." His voice was not loud, but everyone heard it clearly. "I intend to establish a Dueling Club."

The classroom fell silent for a second, then erupted. Someone from Gryffindor whistled, someone slapped a desk, and Seamus jumped straight out of his chair before Dean dragged him back down. The Slytherins were quieter, but several boys' eyes lit up as well. Crabbe and Goyle exchanged a glance and grinned. Ron leaned close to Harry's ear and lowered his voice. "A Dueling Club? He's going to teach us to duel? Can he even do that?" Harry did not answer, but his eyes settled on Lockhart. The man stood behind the lectern with a relaxed posture and a faint smile at the corner of his mouth, utterly unlike his former flamboyant self, who had needed a loud voice and flashy smiles to bolster his confidence.

"Quiet." Lockhart's voice was not loud, but the noise in the classroom was cut off as if by a blade. "To ensure the quality of instruction, I have specially invited two professors to serve as assistants and referees."