She doesn't care about your words

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𝓞𝓟𝓗𝓔𝓛𝓘𝓐 sat in her usual spot in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, her arms crossed as she waited for their new teacher to arrive. The room buzzed with chatter, the students exchanging rumours and guesses about who their professor might be. Beside her, Hermes was already muttering something about his predictions, but Ophelia wasn't paying him much mind. She was more concerned with what sort of teacher they'd have this year-hopefully someone competent, unlike the disaster of the last one.

As the door creaked open, the class fell silent, and all eyes turned to the figure that stepped in. Ophelia's heart sank. No, she thought. This has to be a joke.

Mr. Gilderoy Lockhart, in all his garish glory, strode confidently into the room, beaming like he had just performed some great feat of magic. His robes were a ridiculous shade of lavender, shimmering with embroidered stars, and his perfectly coiffed hair didn't have a strand out of place. His smile, wide and blinding, had most of the girls swooning before he even said a word.

"Let me introduce you to your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Me," Lockhart announced smugly from the top of the stairs, spreading his arms as if the mere sight of him was a gift.

Ophelia blinked, her eyes widening in disbelief. This can't be real, she thought, her brows furrowing in confusion. She exchanged a quick glance with Hermes, who rolled his eyes so dramatically she thought they might stay that way.

"Gilderoy Lockhart..." Lockhart continued, his voice dripping with self-importance as he made his way down the stairs, "Order of Merlin, Third Class... honorary member of the Dark Force Defence League... and five times winner... of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award."

Ophelia's lips curled in disgust. Most-Charming-Smile? She looked around at her classmates and noticed that half the girls were already blushing and giggling, completely enraptured by Lockhart's presence. It was nauseating. She couldn't help the sharp scoff that escaped her.

"Seriously?" she muttered under her breath, loud enough for only Hermes to hear. "We're supposed to learn how to defend ourselves from the dark arts, and they send us this?" She gestured discreetly toward Lockhart, whose gleaming white teeth were now on full display as he smiled at the girls in the front row.

Hermes chuckled darkly. "At least his smile can blind any attacking dark wizard," he whispered, smirking at her.

Ophelia bit her lip to keep from laughing, shaking her head in disbelief. Lockhart continued to prattle on about his accolades, clearly more interested in impressing them with tales of his supposed adventures than in actually teaching. Ophelia's patience was already wearing thin.

As Lockhart pranced past their row, Ophelia leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. She stared at him with a look of scepticism, feeling an overwhelming sense of irritation. She couldn't fathom how someone like him, a walking vanity project, had been put in charge of teaching them Defence Against the Dark Arts. It felt like an insult to the subject itself.

"Does he expect us to fight dark creatures by dazzling them with compliments and autographs?" she whispered sarcastically to Hermes, her voice filled with contempt.

Hermes smirked. "Maybe we're supposed to win them over with charm and a signature book deal."

As Gilderoy Lockhart chuckled at his own joke, the class remained silent, unsure whether they were supposed to be impressed or just confused. Ophelia raised an eyebrow, still trying to process what she was witnessing.

"But I don't talk about that," Lockhart continued, clearly enjoying the sound of his own voice. "I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at him."

Ophelia stifled an eye roll, muttering under her breath, "Sure, because that's exactly what we all need-a hero with great teeth."

Lockhart seemed oblivious to the lack of enthusiasm from most of the students as he moved toward a cage covered by a velvet blanket. With a dramatic flourish, he tapped the cage with his wand, causing it to rattle ominously.

"Now, be warned," he said with exaggerated seriousness. "It is my job to arm you..." He paused for effect, glancing around the room as if expecting applause. "...against the foulest creatures known to wizard kind."

The class tensed slightly, intrigued by what could possibly be behind the cage. Ophelia leaned forward in her seat, her fingers unconsciously brushing over the pocket where her Niffler was stashed, keeping it safe.

Lockhart hit the cage again with his wand, making it rattle even louder. "You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. I must ask you to not scream. It might provoke them."

He whipped the blanket off the cage with a dramatic flourish, revealing... Cornish pixies. The classroom fell silent for a moment before snickers broke out from various students.

"Cornish pixies?" Ophelia spoke, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

Hermes, sitting beside her, scoffed. "Freshly caught Cornish pixies," Lockhart added, clearly proud of his "dangerous" catch.

The laughter in the room grew louder as Lockhart puffed his chest. "Laugh if you will, everyone... but pixies can be devilishly tricky little blighters. Let's see what you make of them."

With that, he opened the cage, and the pixies shot out like a storm of chaos. They zoomed around the room, knocking over books, tugging at hair, and pulling at robes. Some students screamed and ducked, while others made a dash for the door.

Ophelia instinctively covered her pocket with one hand, protecting her Niffler from the chaos. "You're staying put," she muttered, feeling the tiny creature wriggle inside. The last thing she needed was her mischievous pet getting involved.

Nearby, two pixies grabbed Neville by the ears and lifted him off the ground, hanging him from the chandelier. "Please, get me down!" Neville called out in panic, swinging helplessly from above.

Meanwhile, a pixie darted toward Hermes, grabbing him by the hair and yanking it hard. "Get off of me!" he growled, swatting at the mischievous creature.

Ophelia rolled her eyes. "Hold still, you idiot," she muttered, grabbing her book from the table and smacking the pixie off Hermes. The creature let out a high-pitched squeal before fluttering away.

Across the room, Lockhart waved his wand in a grand gesture. "Peskipiksi Pesternomi!" he cried, as if that would solve the problem.

But the spell didn't work. Instead, one of the pixies snatched his wand out of his hand and flew off with it, using the wand to break the chain holding a dragon skeleton display. The skeleton came crashing down with a deafening thud, scattering bones everywhere.

Lockhart's face drained of colour as he made a swift retreat toward the stairs that led to his office. "I'll ask you four to just nip the rest of them back into their cage, would you?" he called down to Ophelia, Hermes, Harry, and Ron. He gave them a weak smile before darting into his office and slamming the door shut.

Ophelia stood there, dumbfounded for a moment, before her patience snapped. "Enough of this!" she shouted, pulling out her wand. "Immobulus!"

A shimmering wave of magic shot from her wand, freezing the pixies mid-air. They hung suspended like decorations, their little bodies frozen in the midst of their chaos. The room fell eerily silent after the spell, with students cautiously peeking out from behind desks.

Neville, still dangling from the chandelier, sighed in relief as he looked down at them. "Why is it always me?" he groaned, his face flushed with embarrassment.

Ophelia glanced up at him, unable to help the small grin tugging at the corners of her lips. "At least you didn't get your hair pulled by a pixie," she teased, throwing a smug look at Hermes, who was still fixing his dishevelled hair.

Hermes shot her an irritated glare, muttering something under his breath, but Ophelia just smile.

As the class settled down after the chaos of the Cornish pixies, Ophelia sighed, brushing some stray hair from her face. The classroom was still a mess-papers strewn across the floor, overturned chairs, and students picking themselves up from the pandemonium. Gilderoy Lockhart was nowhere to be seen, safely barricaded in his office, leaving the rest to fend for themselves.

Hermes, still grumbling about his hair, sat beside Ophelia with a disgruntled look on his face. His usually neat, dark locks were an absolute mess thanks to the pixies, and despite his best efforts to fix it, it still stuck out in odd angles. Ophelia couldn't help but stifle a giggle.

"You look like you've been through a hurricane," she teased, her lips curving into a small smile as she leaned back in her chair.

Hermes shot her a sideways glance, his eyes narrowing. "Yeah, well, at least I didn't almost let my Niffler loose in the middle of a pixie attack."

Ophelia chuckled softly, glancing down at her pocket where her Niffler was still tucked safely away. "I wouldn't have had to worry about him if someone wasn't attracting all the pixies with their hair."

Hermes let out a frustrated sigh, but his frown quickly softened when he noticed Ophelia smiling at him. He paused for a moment, his expression relaxing as he leaned back in his seat, mirroring her posture.

"Yeah, well, maybe I like living dangerously," he said with a mock-serious tone, giving his hair another half-hearted fix. "Plus, you're the one who hit the pixie with a book like some kind of warrior. I'm not sure if I should be impressed or scared."

Ophelia raised an eyebrow playfully. "You should be both. I'm full of surprises."

Hermes met her gaze, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I guess I'll have to keep an eye on you then."

There was a brief moment of quiet between them, the usual classroom chatter fading into the background. Ophelia felt a warmth creeping into her cheeks, realizing just how close they were sitting now. She glanced down, lightly fidgeting with the sleeve of her robe before looking back at him, catching his eyes still on her.

For a second, Hermes seemed to forget about his dishevelled hair, the chaotic class, and everything else. His expression softened, and his voice was lower when he spoke again. "Thanks for... you know, helping with the pixies."

Ophelia gave a small shrug, pretending to be nonchalant. "You would've done the same for me."

Hermes smiled, a genuine one this time, and leaned in just slightly. "Maybe. But it's better when you're the one saving the day."

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B: SilverMist707

I hope that this story and Ophelia is okay with you all. <3