Hogwarts' Golden Glory

"Eliminate your weapon."

Kane's spell was swift.

The silver-blue light band suddenly contracted into a thin line, piercing the weakest point of the Ironclad Curse like a scalpel.

The shield shattered with a sharp crack, and at the same time, Sirius Black's wand flew high into the air—

—Then it was caught by Kane's other hand.

The classroom fell into a deathly silence. Neville's "Standard Spells" fell to the floor with a deafening "bang."

Draco looked like he'd received an early Christmas present, while Lockhart had somehow already hidden under the podium.

Sirius remained in a defensive posture, his pupils trembling as if an earthquake were occurring.

His wand, the companion that had been with him for many years, was now being casually twirled by Kane in fancy ways.

Sirius's Adam's apple bobbed up and down, as if he were swallowing something with difficulty.

He slowly lowered his arm, which was still in a defensive posture, and wisps of smoke were still rising from the edges of the holes burned by the aftershocks of the spell on the cuffs of his black robe.

Harry had never seen his godfather like this before—his gray eyes, which always gleamed with a mischievous light, were now as dark as the sea before a storm, and his lips were pressed into a tight line.

"The spell was executed...perfectly."

Sirius finally managed to squeeze out a sentence, his voice as dry as if he had been trekking through the desert for three days.

As he reached out to take the wand from Kane, Harry noticed his fingertips trembling slightly—not from fear, but from the injury his arm had sustained from the spell.

Lockhart suddenly jumped out from behind the podium, his peacock blue robe covered in chalk dust.

"Fantastic! Absolutely fantastic!" He waved his hands exaggeratedly, as if he wasn't the one who had just been hiding under the table.

"This is exactly the teaching effect I wanted to demonstrate! A perfect example of teacher-student collaboration!"

Hermione's eyebrows almost flew into her curls: "Cooperate...cooperate?" Her voice was so sharp it didn't sound like her own.

"Of course!" Lockhart strode over to Kane's side, intending to pat him on the shoulder, but Kane dodged to the side, leaving his hand awkwardly hanging in mid-air.

"In my latest book, *The Art of Teaching*, I emphasized that the most effective way to learn is through immersive demonstrations!"

He turned to the class, flashing eight pearly white teeth. "Professor Black deliberately demonstrated a flawed Ironclad Charm so that Mr. Malfoy could perfectly demonstrate how to break it!"

Draco let out a loud sneer and was jabbed hard by Pansy's elbow.

Ron's ears turned redder than his hair. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but Hermione stopped him with a look.

Sirius Black's expression was as if he had swallowed a whole box of vixens whole.

This is the first time he's found Lockhart so pleasing to the eye; no wonder she has so many fans!

He took a deep breath, then suddenly grinned, revealing that dangerous smile that Harry knew so well: "Giddy Roth is right."

He walked toward Kane, his steps as light as a wolf ready to hunt. "I deliberately left a 0.3-second magical delay at the third node—I didn't expect Mr. Malfoy to be so accurate."

He couldn't possibly admit that he had been defeated by a mere wizard!

Harry's eyes widened. The godfather was lying!

A glint of light flashed across Kane's gold-rimmed glasses.

He nodded slightly, his voice as smooth as silk: "Thank you for your guidance, Professor. Your...teaching skills are truly impressive."

The moment their eyes met, the air in the classroom seemed to freeze.

Harry saw his godfather's pupils contract slightly.

"Alright, kids!" Lockhart's booming voice broke the eerie silence.

"Let's give a round of applause to these two outstanding actors! And given Kane's superb performance, add 10 points!"

He led the applause, and several Hufflepuff students hesitantly followed suit.

Lockhart clapped his hands, signaling everyone to quiet down: "Now, please welcome Assistant Instructor Black to explain in detail the subtleties of the Disarming Charm!"

He stepped aside to make room for him, the sequins on his peacock blue robe shimmering dizzily in the candlelight.

Sirius Black walked forward with a gloomy face, casually twirling his wand in his palm.

His gaze swept over the students whispering below the stage.

Finally, the words landed on Kane, a cold smile playing on his lips: "Disarming Spell, seemingly simple, but in reality, it requires precise timing and control of magic power."

He suddenly waved his cane, and a beam of silver light shot towards the chandelier in the air, shattering the crystal pendants. "Just like this—surprise attack, catch the enemy off guard."

A gasp rippled through the audience. Neville shrank back into his chair in fright, while Hermione adjusted her glasses and began taking notes diligently in her notebook.

Sirius continued explaining the variations and methods to break the spell, his tone somewhat casual, but his eyes remained vigilantly watching Kane's reactions.

When the bell rang, the students poured out of the classroom like a tide.

Harry was about to catch up with Ron when Lockhart called out, "Potter, and Malfoy, could you please stay a moment?"

The two exchanged a glance and followed Lockhart through the winding corridor to his ornately decorated office.

The walls were covered with huge photographs of Lockhart, each posing in a different dashing way, and his works were neatly arranged on the bookshelves, their gold-embossed names gleaming on the covers.

"Please sit down, children!"

Lockhart warmly invited them to sit down at his desk, which was piled high with fan mail. "I'd like to ask you for a small favor."

He casually pulled out a stack of parchment, which was covered with dense writing. "As you all know, I receive a lot of letters from fans every day, and I really can't keep up."

So I hope you can help me reply to these lovely ladies.

Harry's eyes widened. "A reply? But we won't..."

"It's very simple!"

Lockhart interrupted him, taking out a stack of stationery with his own portrait printed on it from the drawer. "Just write according to this template, and add some personal touches."

Remember to be enthusiastic and charming, and let them feel my sincerity and care.

He demonstrated by writing a few sentences, his handwriting flowing and elegant. "See? Like this."

Kane picked up a piece of paper, his eyes behind his gold-rimmed glasses carrying a hint of mockery: "Professor, are you sure you want us to write this? It might ruin your reputation."

"Don't worry, child!"

Lockhart patted Kane on the shoulder. "I have faith in you. And this is a great opportunity to hone your social skills."

He then turned to Harry, his eyes filled with expectation, "Potter, you are the famous Savior, your reply will surely make them ecstatic!"

Harry sighed helplessly and took the quill.

He was stumped the moment the ink touched the letter paper.

What should I write? I can't exactly say, "Thank you for your letter, but I'm busy fighting the Dark Lord and don't have time to reply to everyone."