Hogwarts Bastard Professor

A trip to Uagadou Castle wasn't happening right away—professors' duties left little free time outside of weekends. 

It was Friday night, after dinner, at the edge of the Forbidden Forest near the paddock for the Hippogriffs. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, both Seekers for their respective House Quidditch teams, should've been at the pitch for practice. Instead, they were here, undergoing a performance review for Professor Lockhart's Duelling Club. 

Professors McGonagall and Snape, the heads of their Houses, were observing, while Hagrid had wandered over from his hut to join the crowd. Ron, Hermione, Neville, Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy stood nearby, nervously watching the figures darting through the sky. This was way more thrilling than Quidditch. 

Harry and Draco, both naturally gifted Seekers, pushed their broomsticks to the limit, weaving through the complex terrain of the Forbidden Forest at breakneck speed. Sometimes they'd plummet from the sky in a near-vertical dive, skimming the ground before banking sharply to slip through the narrow gap between two towering trees. 

Before they could even clear the trees, a spell would tear through the forest's shadows, grazing their foreheads as they dodged, leaving trails of dazzling light streaking into the sky. 

"Counterattack!" Lockhart shouted. "This isn't a turn-based kids' game! Stop trading blows like it's a polite duel!" 

"Think about countering the moment you dodge!" 

"Combine your dodge with your counterattack!" 

"Get sharp! Don't just aim Disarming Charms at their wands—who told you Expelliarmus is only for disarming?" 

"Target their brooms!" 

"Or, if you must, aim for their bodies!" 

"You've got to use your brooms cleverly. They're not just for speed or flying—they're useless in a fight if you don't think creatively!" 

"Where are those high-skill moves you practice with your Quidditch teams?" 

"Where's your agility?!" 

"Pull up sharp! Slide sideways! Spin into a tight spiral! Loop around! Use those moves!" 

"Mobility! Flexible mobility!" 

"That's the heart of Quidditch, not just flying faster like idiots!" 

"I don't know how you two even made it as Seekers!" 

Lockhart had every right to critique their broom skills—he'd been Ravenclaw's Seeker back in the day. Sure, his shining moment was accidentally "catching" the Snitch during a practice match, but he knew how to handle a broom with finesse. He just wasn't great at putting that knowledge into action. 

McGonagall, watching from the sidelines, was practically buzzing with excitement, her hands trembling with the urge to jump in. She'd love to join the fray. As a powerful witch, she knew it wouldn't be fair to take on the kids, but maybe Lockhart, with his adventurous post-Hogwarts experience, could give her a challenge. 

Lockhart, oblivious to McGonagall's dangerous thoughts, waved his wand like a conductor's baton—barely better than a stick in his hands—shouting directions. He nearly poked Snape in the process. 

Snape didn't mind, too busy marveling at Harry and Draco's rapid maneuvers through the trees. They were only second-years, just a few weeks into the term, and already performing at a level most older students couldn't touch. He glanced at Lockhart with newfound respect. If Lucius Malfoy saw how skilled his son had become, he'd probably owe Lockhart a fruit basket. 

The match didn't last long. No one could maintain that level of high-speed broom handling and spellcasting for long. Both boys soon slipped from their peak performance. 

Seizing an opening, Harry's Disarming Charm hit Draco square on. But Draco, having learned a trick or two from Lockhart, clung to his broom, letting the spell's force fling him forward. Using the momentum, he launched himself off his broom and tackled Harry. 

To everyone's gasps, their broom—now carrying two grappling boys—wobbled wildly, spiraling toward the ground like a crashing plane. 

"Cushioning Charm!" Snape reacted instantly, his spell slowing their fall, guiding the boys gently to the ground. 

McGonagall was quick to act too, waving her wand to transform nearby bushes into wooden hands that pried the still-squabbling boys apart. 

The group rushed forward, concerned. The intense fight had clearly gotten to them—both boys were covered in scratches and bruises from their scuffle. Draco sported a black eye, tears streaming involuntarily. 

"Merlin's beard!" McGonagall exclaimed. "We need to get you to Madam Pomfrey at once!" 

"Hold on, hold on!" Lockhart pushed through the circling students, inspecting Harry and Draco with a shake of his head. "It's fine, just minor scrapes." 

He held up a green branch he'd just picked up, tapping it lightly with his wand. Two vibrant purple flowers sprouted, their petals fragrant and dripping with honey-like nectar that fell onto the boys' heads. 

The effect was immediate. Their minor injuries vanished. 

After a moment of stunned gasps, Hermione and the others erupted into cheers. "Professor Lockhart! You're amazing!" Their wide-eyed admiration was pure and unfiltered. 

Oh, Lockhart basked in it. He was used to those looks, but this time, the spell was his own, cast with his own skill. How could he not be thrilled? 

What a rush! 

As the match ended, Harry and Draco, surrounded by their friends, headed back to Hogwarts, excitedly recounting the thrilling moments. Lockhart watched them go with a grin, then turned to McGonagall. "What do you think?" 

This wasn't just a test of their progress. Lockhart planned to take his two star pupils to Uagadou Castle, hoping the trip would push their growth further. McGonagall, of course, thought it was too dangerous, even if Lockhart seemed confident about the adventure. 

He didn't argue, just invited her to observe this demonstration, hoping to sway her. He genuinely wanted his students to learn more—McGonagall could sense his dedication—but she remained cautious, hesitating. 

Lockhart waited patiently for her answer. He needed her approval. Truth be told, Harry and Draco were leaps and bounds ahead of him in skill. His own abilities were barely above a Muggle's, and if something went wrong on this adventure, he'd be useless. The more help he had, the better. 

Yes, he was counting on Harry and Draco as backup. He'd poured his heart into training them—when the time came, he expected them to step up. Teaching wasn't just about effort; it was about results! 

"Maybe…" Snape interjected, his voice slow and deliberate. When they looked at him, he sped up. "I'd support letting Draco and Harry go to Uagadou, provided I come along to keep an eye on them." 

Brilliant! Reliable Snape! 

Lockhart's eyes lit up as he turned to McGonagall, who finally nodded. "I just hope nothing goes wrong."