The Twin Who Lived: Secrets of the Serpent - The Chocolate Catastrophe

The Great Hall glowed warmly beneath the enchanted evening sky. Hundreds of floating candles drifted lazily overhead while streaks of orange and purple twilight shimmered across the enchanted ceiling. Students filled the long tables with conversation and laughter as dinner appeared before them in steaming platters and golden serving bowls. The events of the day had already become the subject of countless retellings throughout Hogwarts. Most notably, the story of a certain Defense Against the Dark Arts professor losing a battle of wits against a Niffler. Every house seemed to have its own exaggerated version by now. Some claimed Lockhart had challenged Pip to a duel. Others insisted the professor had attempted to lecture the Niffler on proper treasure-handling etiquette. One particularly creative Hufflepuff rumor suggested that Pip had formally declared himself the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Regardless of the details, the outcome remained the same in every version.

At the staff table, Gilderoy Lockhart was desperately attempting to behave as though nothing unusual had happened.

Unfortunately for him, Dumbledore had other plans.

The Headmaster waited until most of the students had settled.

Then he turned toward Lockhart.

His eyes twinkled behind his half-moon spectacles, "Professor Lockhart."

Lockhart immediately smiled.

A practiced smile.

A nervous smile, "Yes, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore folded his hands together, "I heard an interesting story today."

Several nearby professors immediately became suspicious.

McGonagall's lips twitched.

Flitwick suddenly became very interested in his dinner.

Snape quietly reached for his goblet.

Dumbledore continued, "It involved a Niffler."

Lockhart visibly froze.

Across the hall, Mira immediately noticed.

So did Draco.

So did Fred and George.

The four exchanged identical looks.

This was going to be good.

Dumbledore's smile remained perfectly innocent, "I understand the creature stole your belt." A pause, "And that your trousers subsequently fell down."

The silence that followed lasted exactly one second.

Then Flitwick choked on his pumpkin juice.

McGonagall lowered her head.

Professor Sprout looked away entirely.

Even Snape's shoulders twitched once.

Lockhart laughed.

A strained laugh.

A very strained laugh.

"Ah."

Another laugh.

"Yes."

His face had become slightly pink, "A rather amusing misunderstanding."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully, "I also heard the Niffler escaped successfully."

The twinkle in his eyes intensified.

Lockhart smiled weakly, "Quite."

"And that it appeared delighted." Dumbledore smiled.

Lockhart's eye twitched, "Indeed."

Dumbledore nodded again, "Remarkable creature."

Across the hall, students were already beginning to notice the conversation.

Several looked toward the staff table.

A few snickers spread.

Lockhart desperately attempted to redirect matters, "Speaking of remarkable creatures, Headmaster, have I ever told you about the time I single-handedly outwitted a manticore?"

The professors immediately recognized the tactic.

Escape.

Retreat.

Change the subject.

Anything except discussing Pip.

Dumbledore smiled kindly, "I believe you've told me six times."

Lockhart deflated slightly.

The professors suddenly found their meals very interesting.

At the Slytherin table, Fred Weasley was trying not to laugh himself unconscious.

George wasn't doing much better.

Draco had tears in his eyes.

Mira quietly sipped her pumpkin juice.

Though internally, she was already thinking about phase two.

Because while Dumbledore's conversation had been entertaining...

The evening's main event had yet to begin.

A few seats away, Fred carefully opened a small box.

Inside rested several elegant chocolate truffles.

They looked expensive.

Sophisticated.

Perfectly harmless.

They were not.

George grinned.

Mira inspected the chocolates one final time.

The enchantments remained stable.

The spicy curse remained intact.

The illusion charms remained active.

Everything was ready.

Draco looked delighted, "Who gets to deliver them?"

Fred pointed toward a first-year Hufflepuff.

The boy had already agreed to help.

In exchange for a Chocolate Frog.

A bargain by any reasonable standard.

Moments later, the first-year approached the staff table carrying the decorative box.

Lockhart immediately brightened.

The boy nervously handed it over, "A fan asked me to give these to you, Professor."

Lockhart looked thrilled.

Of course he did.

The phrase fan had an almost magical effect on him.

"Oh?" His smile widened, "How thoughtful."

The boy quickly retreated before he started laughing.

Lockhart admired the chocolates.

The decorative ribbon.

The elegant wrapping.

The attached note.

"To the bravest wizard alive."

Lockhart looked positively radiant.

Several professors immediately became suspicious.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

Snape slowly lowered his goblet.

McGonagall closed her eyes briefly.

They all knew Hogwarts students far too well.

Lockhart, unfortunately, did not.

Without hesitation, he selected a chocolate.

Then another.

Then a third.

The professor clearly wanted everyone to witness how beloved he was.

He popped one into his mouth.

Chewed.

Smiled.

Swallowed.

Everything seemed normal.

For approximately four seconds.

Then Lockhart froze.

His smile vanished.

His eyes widened.

His face turned red.

Then redder.

Then alarmingly red.

A moment later—

"AAAAAAAHHHHH!"

The scream echoed throughout the Great Hall.

Every student jumped.

Several forks hit the floor.

Lockhart leapt to his feet.

His chair crashed backward.

"FIRE!"

Another scream.

"MY MOUTH IS ON FIRE!"

The Great Hall descended into chaos.

Students stared.

Professors stared.

Lockhart grabbed his goblet.

Then drank the entire contents.

Nothing happened.

The spicy enchantment intensified.

"AAAAAHHHHH!"

He seized a pitcher.

Drank that too.

Still nothing.

The spice only grew worse.

Lockhart's eyes watered.

His hair appeared moments away from igniting.

"MORE WATER!"

He grabbed another pitcher.

Then another.

Nothing helped.

The curse had been specifically designed to ignore ordinary cooling methods.

Across the hall, Fred and George were silently vibrating with laughter.

Draco had buried his face against the table.

Mira's shoulders shook suspiciously.

Even Neville looked impressed.

Lockhart staggered toward the staff table.

"Milk!"

A house-elf instantly provided some.

Lockhart drank it.

Then froze.

Then screamed even louder.

"IT'S WORSE!"

The hall erupted.

Students collapsed against benches.

Ron nearly fell onto Harry.

Hermione looked utterly stunned.

Even some older students couldn't breathe from laughing.

Lockhart ran toward the doors.

Then stopped.

Then ran back.

Then toward the doors again.

Pure panic had replaced all coherent thought.

His internal monologue consisted entirely of variations of fire, fire, fire.

"Madam Pomfrey!"

He bolted from the hall.

"HELP!"

The doors slammed behind him.

Silence followed.

Brief silence.

Then the Great Hall exploded into laughter.

Dumbledore removed his spectacles and wiped them thoughtfully.

Flitwick openly laughed.

Sprout wasn't even trying to hide it.

McGonagall pinched the bridge of her nose.

Snape calmly took another sip of pumpkin juice.

His expression remained perfectly neutral.

Though several professors noticed the unmistakable hint of satisfaction in his eyes.

At the Slytherin table, Mira exchanged a glance with Draco while Fred and George celebrated quietly. Around them, students enthusiastically reenacted Lockhart's panicked sprint across the hall. The Chamber of Secrets remained a concern. The missing diary remained a mystery. Yet for one evening, Hogwarts had been united by something much simpler. Watching Gilderoy Lockhart lose a battle against a box of enchanted chocolates. And somewhere deep within the castle, the unfortunate professor was undoubtedly discovering that not even Madam Pomfrey's remedies could immediately save him from the consequences of accepting candy from anonymous admirers.

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