Chapter 95: Harry's Remaining Fan
"The space in the classroom affects how spells can be cast. Otherwise, using a Whirlwind Charm to deal with all the pixies at once would've been a good option," Harry said, recalling how George had handled pixies at the Burrow—by knocking them all unconscious with a whirlwind spell.
"Wind magic is really useful. Pixies are light, so they're affected the most. Even if you can't use a full whirlwind spell, just disturbing the airflow can slow them down. Sound-based magic would also work well. With Sasser's amplification magic, you could even knock them all out," Hermione added, coming up with several effective ideas.
Even though they hadn't used these methods just now, they were able to quickly think of the best strategies for similar situations in the future.
"That's actually pretty good. We should start thinking ahead about how to deal with Malfoy," Ron said. "I don't want to lose to him." He thought about their advantage—they were three people, and they could plan and prepare.
Harry and Hermione were both clever. After all, who would want to lose to Malfoy? With preparation and practice, their chances of winning would definitely improve.
The experience in Defense Against the Dark Arts class also boosted Harry and Ron's confidence. They suddenly realized they were quite capable, and both of them were considered among the top students. In such a good mood, they finished their homework and finally began to feel more relaxed.
The homework went smoothly, but what made Harry uncomfortable was that Gilderoy Lockhart hadn't faced any consequences for the chaos in class.
Lockhart still treated Harry as if they were the same kind of person. Whenever he saw Harry in the corridors, he would pull him aside to chat, as though he felt lonely without enough admirers at school.
Whenever Harry spotted Lockhart from afar, he would quickly change direction and hide. But Lockhart wasn't the only person he needed to avoid.
Colin Creevey was a new Gryffindor first-year this year. He was shy and thin, much like Harry had been when he first arrived at Hogwarts.
The first time he met Harry, he begged for an autographed photo. Coming from a Muggle family, Colin had always struggled socially because of his magical abilities.
Arriving at Hogwarts felt like entering a whole new world. Everything fascinated him. He constantly carried a camera around his neck, taking photos of everything he saw, saying he would send them all to his father.
In this magical world, Harry was a superstar, while Colin came from a small town—Harry seemed like an unbelievable figure to him. As a fellow student, Harry would never be unkind to him, which gave the shy and homesick Colin someone to look up to.
He became Harry's most enthusiastic admirer. It seemed as though he had memorized Harry's schedule. Every day, he would "accidentally" run into Harry seven or eight times, just to see him and say, "Hello, Harry." And whenever Harry replied, "Hello, Colin," Colin would blush furiously, almost too excited to breathe.
He repeated this routine endlessly, completely ignoring how helpless and frustrated Harry felt each time.
Harry felt too embarrassed to scold someone a year younger than him, but at the same time, he worried about others finding out he had such an overly enthusiastic fan.
Especially Lockhart, who would pull him aside and lecture him in a strange tone, even seeming to believe that he and Harry were the same kind of person.
Unaware of it, Saturday had arrived. Harry had originally planned to visit Hagrid with Ron and Hermione in the morning, but early that day, he was woken up by Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor Quidditch captain.
"What is it?" Harry asked irritably. Waking someone up early was a serious offense.
"It's Quidditch training day!" Wood urged him. "Come on, get up!"
"Is it even fully light yet?" Harry tilted his head toward the window. The sky was still pale gold, covered with a thin haze. He couldn't help complaining, "Who let you in this early?"
"Don't go back to sleep—I've got a new plan," Wood said excitedly. Now in his sixth year, this might be his last season on the team. He was determined to win the championship. His eyes burned with passion. "I spent the whole summer working on a new strategy. This year, we're definitely defending the title!"
Wood pulled off Harry's blankets. "The other teams haven't even started training yet—we need to hurry!"
Harry looked helpless, yawning as he slowly climbed out of bed. Still half-asleep, he fumbled around for his uniform.
Wood was already eager to head to the pitch, his Quidditch spirit blazing. "I'll go ahead—you meet me there in fifteen minutes."
Harry eventually found his uniform and put on a cloak to keep warm. After leaving a note for Ron, he slung his Nimbus 2000 over his shoulder and hurried down the spiral staircase.
Just as he reached the portrait hole, he heard hurried footsteps behind him—Colin Creevey had come running down as well. His camera still hung around his neck, and he seemed to be holding something in his hand.
"Harry! I heard someone upstairs calling your name. Look what I brought you—the last photo faded," Colin said excitedly, waving the picture.
Harry stared blankly at him. Getting caught by him this early—didn't this kid have anything better to do? Harry froze in place, feeling awkward.
"Look!" Colin said, pointing proudly at the photo.
Harry looked down. In the picture, a black-and-white Lockhart was tugging hard at someone's arm, though the rest of the figure was cut off by the frame.
Harry felt slightly relieved that, in the photo, he seemed to be resisting and hadn't been dragged away by Lockhart. "Maybe people won't recognize it's me," Harry thought, watching the panting Lockhart fade out of the image.
"Could you sign it for me?" Colin asked sincerely.
"No," Harry refused immediately. He was already embarrassed enough. If he signed it, he'd look just like Lockhart—a self-obsessed show-off.
"Sorry, Colin, I'm in a hurry. I need to get to Quidditch practice," Harry said, not wanting to continue talking to him. He just wanted to escape this overenthusiastic admirer. Without hesitation, he climbed through the portrait hole.
"Wait for me! I've never seen a Quidditch match before!" Colin hurried after him.
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