I Swung a Sword at Hogwarts

"Tsk tsk, almost no one remembers that my favorite color is lilac. I mentioned it in A Year with the Yeti of Tibet."

"Some students really need to read Wandering with Werewolves more carefully. In Chapter Twelve, I clearly stated that my ideal birthday gift is harmony between magical and non-magical people. Though I wouldn't refuse a large bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky either!"

Lockhart reviewed the test papers, utterly disappointed that most students couldn't answer his "simple" questions about himself.

Still, he gave the young wizards a playful wink to cheer them up.

At this point, even Ron wasn't the only one struggling to keep a straight face—many students were on the verge of losing it.

Perhaps only Hermione was still listening earnestly when Lockhart suddenly called her name, startling her.

"But Miss Hermione Granger knows my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil... and sell my own line of haircare potions."

Lockhart looked at the paper with pleasant surprise and satisfaction—true brilliance always shines, no matter the crowd.

"A perfect score! Miss Hermione Granger, where are you?" he said joyfully.

Hermione raised her hand, trembling slightly from the excitement. Lockhart beamed, "Excellent—ten points to Gryffindor!"

Hermione was overwhelmed, as it was the first time she'd earned house points before John.

She immediately glanced at John with a triumphant glint in her eyes.

John saw the challenge in her gaze and sensed trouble.

Miss Know-It-All Hermione Granger was rising from the ashes, seeing the possibility of beating John once again.

Meanwhile, Lockhart, unaware that his actions had rekindled a top student's fighting spirit, placed a large covered cage on the desk, gesturing dramatically.

"Now, be careful! My mission is to teach you to defend against the most evil things known to the magical world! In this classroom, you will face the most terrifying creatures!"

His tone was filled with menace, clearly trying to scare the young wizards.

Perhaps realizing he'd gone too far, he quickly shifted to a more confident tone:

"But remember, as long as I'm here, you won't be harmed. All I ask is that you stay calm."

Some students were clearly frightened—laughter stopped, and Neville in the front row shrank back in fear.

"I must ask you not to scream—that will only provoke them!"

His voice dropped again for a chilling effect, and the class collectively held their breath as tension filled the room.

Under everyone's anxious gaze, he lifted the cover...

"Pfft!"

Seamus usually didn't laugh in class—unless he truly couldn't help it.

Despite Lockhart's dramatic build-up, what emerged were simply Cornish pixies.

These pixies were bluish, with pointy faces and high-pitched screechy voices, as noisy as parakeets.

But no matter how loud they were, they were still no more than eight inches tall.

Seamus's laughter made Lockhart visibly embarrassed. He tried to defend himself:

"They can be devilishly tricky little troublemakers!"

But more laughter followed, and Lockhart grew flustered, insisting he meant no harm.

"Alright then, let's see how you handle them!" he declared, opening the cage in an attempt to teach the students a lesson.

But the moment the pixies were released, chaos erupted.

They flew around like little rockets, yanking students' ears, shattering windows, and scattering glass everywhere.

Lockhart wasn't wrong—these things were absolute menaces.

Ink splattered across the room. One pixie zoomed toward John, reaching for his ear—

But John glared.

Intimidation activated.

The pixie froze mid-air, trembling in terror.

How could a Cornish pixie dare to touch a dragon's whisker? It shrieked and fled immediately.

Lockhart scrambled to instruct the students, muttering made-up spells, all to no effect.

Neville got lifted by the ears.

John frowned, watching a pixie chase a girl with ink.

"Enough!"

With one cold shout, John rose.

His dragon-like aura surged, freezing all the rampaging pixies in place.

Lockhart felt as though he had seen an actual fire-breathing dragon. He shrieked and ran for the door.

The pixies, terrified, huddled on the ground like frightened children.

Without even raising his voice, John had brought order to chaos.

He drew his wand and cast a spell on a nearby table, transfiguring it into a cage to trap the escaping pixies.

The bell rang, snapping the students out of their daze. John, under everyone's gaze, walked toward the door and asked:

"Class is over—aren't you all leaving?"

"Oh... right."

The students were stunned. Daphne stared at John, Malfoy's jaw finally closed.

The Slytherins erupted in cheers—John had saved the class, in their eyes.

"Cool—absolutely amazing!"

Seamus from Gryffindor shouted, "Did you guys see that? One word from John and the pixies didn't dare move!"

"He was like a fire dragon," another added. "Terrifying."

Harry felt the same. Though he'd never seen a fully grown dragon, for a moment, John had the presence of an adult Norwegian Ridgeback.

Ron was still shaken—not just by John, but also by Lockhart's disastrous teaching.

"I never want to attend another Lockhart class—what a nightmare."

Hermione tried defending her idol, "Maybe... maybe he just wanted to give us some hands-on experience. I think..."

But the more she spoke, the less confident she sounded.

Ron laughed bitterly, "Hands-on? He ran away!"

Harry added, "I think he ran because of John."

Two of the trio now openly doubted Lockhart, and Hermione began to wonder if she'd idolized the wrong person.

Ron even questioned whether Lockhart had done anything he'd written about.

"Intimidation is highly effective against low-level magical creatures."

John's shout had completely subdued the pixies.

He now realized this dragon-born aura could work like a mass petrification spell—an innate, bloodline-based pressure.

It was an incredible ability.

The chaotic afternoon class came to an end.

John headed to the Herbology greenhouse and collected two large buckets of dragon dung, making his way to the Whomping Willow.

Since Dumbledore had entrusted him with caring for it, John didn't take it lightly.

Upon arrival, he didn't immediately immobilize the tree with his wand.

Instead, he activated his intimidation and shouted:

"Stop!"

Before John even entered its range, the Whomping Willow whipped its branches wildly as if offended.

Unable to get close, he cast a Petrificus Totalus to freeze it.

"Seems my intimidation isn't enough for the Whomping Willow."

Not surprising—it's an aggressive plant. His aura might've made things worse.

He poured the dragon dung around the base. It was excellent for plant growth.

After leaving its range, the tree calmed.

John nodded—he'd fulfilled his duty.

Back in the dorm, he crafted a Whomping Willow amulet from one of its branches—one that would sound an alert when danger approached.

This amulet was even more sensitive than one made from a Blast-Ended Skrewt, capable of detecting even the slightest hostility.

"Time to test myself."

Remembering the Songbird of the Forest trial, John geared up.

Thanks to his pouch, he packed various potions—antidotes, fire-resistant draughts, and more.

Once prepared, he headed to the Room of Requirement on the eighth floor.

Silently repeating "training ground" three times, a door appeared.

Inside, Godric Gryffindor was waiting.

John nodded, "I'm ready. Begin the trial."

With a wave of his wand, the Room of Requirement began to transform.

Vines grew wildly, trees sprang from the ground.

By the time it settled, John found himself in a vast forest.

It was the first time he realized the Room of Requirement could do this.

If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he might've thought he was in the Forbidden Forest.

-->

Dear Readers,

 If you can't wait to find out what happens next, I am offering exclusive early access to the upcoming chapters. Be the first to dive deeper into the story and uncover the twists and turns ahead.

To get your early access, simply join my Patreon, follow the link:- https://www.patreon.com/collection/1551272

Thank you for your continued support and enthusiasm for the story.

Happy reading!