Defense Against the Dark Arts with

Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Lockhart proved to be a very curious experience indeed. For some reason, all the textbooks had pictures of a smiling Lockhart on the cover. "Me!" exclaimed Lockhart as he held up two of the smiling books next to his own smiling face. Harry looked at the three identical smiles and was suddenly reminded, irresistibly, of the three-headed Fluffy.

"Gilderoy Lockhart, five time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award, but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!" said Lockhart happily.

"Too bad!" squeaked a tiny voice in Pixie somewhere nearby. "Because I bet that would have worked!" A chorus of hysterical Pixie laughter followed.

Uh oh. Pixies! Harry glanced quickly around the room. Yes! There they were, under the blanket that fluttered suspiciously on Lockhart's desk. Harry frowned. Bringing pixies into a roomful of children did not strike him as a very good idea. Pixies were very beautiful to look at, of course, with their lovely bluebell color and delicate transparent wings, and their chatter could be quite amusing, but Harry knew that pixies were full of tricks. They always seemed to think it was hilarious to pick up non-flying creatures and leave them in high places, watching them struggle to get down.

Unfortunately, Professor Lockhart didn't seem to know pixies nearly as well as he appeared to know ghouls, trolls, banshees, and vampires, for he tore the blanket off the cage that held the pixies and opened the little wire door with a flourish: "Cornish pixies! Let's see what you make of them, class!"

The next moment, the classroom was buzzing with tiny blue creatures who reached for the screaming children and laughed gleefully.

Lockhart staggered backwards. "Pe-peskipiksi pesternomi," he babbled, absurdly.

The pixies just laughed even harder at that and began to lift Neville into the air by his ears. Poor Neville screamed in terror as his feet left the ground. He seemed to be even worse with heights than Trevor.

"Excuse me!" said Harry sternly in his best Pixie, flying after Neville and the pixies. "We will not be playing those games today. Let go, please." He sent a shower of his strongest fairy magic in Neville's direction, and the pixies who were carrying him let go, startled. Harry lowered Neville gently to the ground.

"Oh!" exclaimed a small pixie who had been about to pull Harry's hair. He withdrew his hand quickly. "Beg your pardon, sir, we didn't know you were another flying creature. No harm meant, I'm sure. We just wanted to play with the flightless ones a bit. Just a bit of harmless fun. Care to join us? If you help us, we might even be able to lift up the big shiny one with all the teeth. Think the chandelier will hold him?" His tiny voice was as clear and lovely as a small silver bell.

"No," said Harry firmly. "We will not be lifting anyone. These are my friends, and I want you to leave them alone."

The pixie frowned. "They are all yours? Oh, drat it, we didn't realize these were taken already. Mind if we have just one or two? No? Hey! Careful with that magic, sir - do you want to burn a chap's wings off? All right, all right, sir, keep your hair on! We were just leaving."

The pixies, who were looking very nervously at Harry now, headed quickly for the open window. Soon they had all vanished into the bright September air, muttering a few choice bad words in their little tinkling voices as they flew off.

Lockhart, who had been crouching behind his desk, glanced up at Harry, who was still hovering near the ceiling. "Ha-Harry?" His dazzling smile had vanished now, and he was looking distinctly ill at ease. "Why... why are you up there?" His voice was cracking now, and beads of sweat gathered on his forehead. "You can't be up there! Oh, Merlin, I am hallucinating! Excuse me, children, I am feeling rather unwell... I will be in my office." He dashed out of the classroom door, leaving only a stack of brightly smiling books behind on his desk.

...

Harry did feel bad about poor Lockhart, who had looked quite ill indeed, so after calming Neville down, he decided to stop by the professor's office and see how he was doing. But as he was walking in the direction of Lockhart's office, he suddenly heard a great voice from somewhere inside the ancient stone walls, speaking in Snake:

*Come. Come to me... Want to rip... Want to tear... Come to me!"

Snake! whispered Shard happily in the back of Harry's mind. Snakesnakesnake!

Harry paused and listened. Yes, there was definitely a snake somewhere nearby, and a large one, too, by the sounds of it. He sounded rather moody, though. What exactly was it he wanted to rip? Harry hesitated. Normally, he would be happy to talk to any animal, but something about the voice of this particular snake didn't sound at all friendly.

Lonely snake? suggested Shard, and Harry realized that Shard may very well be right. Perhaps this poor snake was just unhappy because he was all by himself?

*Hello!* called Harry in Snake. *Where are you, then? I can hear you, but I can't see you.*

There was a sudden pause in the low hissing inside the wall. Then the voice came again: *Come. Come to me. Just follow my voice... Follow me...*

*All right!* called Harry back. *Just keep talking then, and I'll find you in a minute.* He walked quickly along the ancient stone corridors, following the faint sound of muttered Snake behind the walls. He could sense Shard stirring eagerly in the back of his mind now, anxious to see the great serpent.

But what was that? Something was stirring in the pocket of Harry's robes, and something sharp poked him in the ribs. It took Harry a moment to realize that it was his diary. How strange - he had never known it to move on its own accord before!

"Tom?" Harry paused his steps and pulled the diary from his pocket. "What are you doing, Tom?" He pulled the diary out and opened it.

You mustn't follow the basilisk, Harry, wrote the diary. I don't want you to be the one opening the chamber. Someone else, perhaps. But not you. I want you to stay here and tell me stories. Please?

Harry stared, uncertainly, at the elegant handwriting that danced across the page.

*Come!* insisted the snake. *Come to me!*

Harry felt in his pocket for a quill so he could write something back to Tom, but he didn't have one.

*Lonely snake*, whispered Shard. *Oursnake, oursnake.*

Harry hesitated for a moment, then whispered into the diary: "It'll be all right, Tom. I'll tell you a story as soon as I get back. I won't be long." He closed the diary gently and put it back in his pocket. Was it just his imagination, or did the book still stir a little even after he closed it?

*Come!* said the voice inside the wall. The snake sounded a little upset now. He must be getting very lonely inside that heavy wall by himself, poor thing.

*All right!* said Harry soothingly. *Don't worry! I'm coming!*

Kết quả (Việt) 1:

Quốc phòng chống lại the nghệ thuật Hắc ám với giáo sư Lockhart đã chứng tỏ là một kinh nghiệm rất tò mò thực sự. Đối với một số lý do, tất cả các sách giáo khoa có hình ảnh của một Lockhart mỉm cười trên trang bìa. "Me!" kêu lên Lockhart như ông đã tổ chức lên hai sách mỉm cười bên cạnh của mỉm cười khuôn mặt mình. Harry đã xem xét những nụ cười ba giống hệt nhau và đã đột nhiên nhắc nhở, irresistibly, ba đầu Fluffy."Gilderoy Lockhart, năm thời gian người chiến thắng của phù thủy lượt đặt duyên dáng nụ cười giải thưởng, nhưng tôi không nói về điều đó. Tôi đã không thoát khỏi chiếc Bandon Banshee bởi mỉm cười lúc cô!"nói Lockhart hạnh phúc."Quá xấu!" squeaked một giọng nói nhỏ ở Pixie một nơi nào đó gần đó. "Bởi vì tôi đặt cược mà đã có thể làm việc!" Một điệp khúc của hysterical Pixie cười theo sau.Uh oh. Pixies! Harry liếc nhìn một cách nhanh chóng xung quanh phòng. Có! Họ đã có, dưới tấm chăn fluttered đáng ngờ trên bàn làm việc của Lockhart. Harry cau mày. Đưa pixies thành một roomful của trẻ em đã không tấn công anh ta như là một ý tưởng rất tốt. Pixies rất đẹp để xem xét, tất nhiên, với các màu sắc đáng yêu bluebell và tinh tế trong suốt cánh, và nghiến răng của họ có thể khá vui, nhưng Harry biết rằng pixies đã được đầy đủ các thủ thuật. Họ luôn luôn dường như nghĩ rằng nó đã được hilarious để chọn lên-bay sinh vật và để lại cho họ ở những nơi cao, xem họ đấu tranh để có được.Unfortunately, Professor Lockhart didn't seem to know pixies nearly as well as he appeared to know ghouls, trolls, banshees, and vampires, for he tore the blanket off the cage that held the pixies and opened the little wire door with a flourish: "Cornish pixies! Let's see what you make of them, class!"The next moment, the classroom was buzzing with tiny blue creatures who reached for the screaming children and laughed gleefully.Lockhart staggered backwards. "Pe-peskipiksi pesternomi," he babbled, absurdly.The pixies just laughed even harder at that and began to lift Neville into the air by his ears. Poor Neville screamed in terror as his feet left the ground. He seemed to be even worse with heights than Trevor."Excuse me!" said Harry sternly in his best Pixie, flying after Neville and the pixies. "We will not be playing those games today. Let go, please." He sent a shower of his strongest fairy magic in Neville's direction, and the pixies who were carrying him let go, startled. Harry lowered Neville gently to the ground."Oh!" exclaimed a small pixie who had been about to pull Harry's hair. He withdrew his hand quickly. "Beg your pardon, sir, we didn't know you were another flying creature. No harm meant, I'm sure. We just wanted to play with the flightless ones a bit. Just a bit of harmless fun. Care to join us? If you help us, we might even be able to lift up the big shiny one with all the teeth. Think the chandelier will hold him?" His tiny voice was as clear and lovely as a small silver bell."No," said Harry firmly. "We will not be lifting anyone. These are my friends, and I want you to leave them alone."The pixie frowned. "They are all yours? Oh, drat it, we didn't realize these were taken already. Mind if we have just one or two? No? Hey! Careful with that magic, sir - do you want to burn a chap's wings off? All right, all right, sir, keep your hair on! We were just leaving."The pixies, who were looking very nervously at Harry now, headed quickly for the open window. Soon they had all vanished into the bright September air, muttering a few choice bad words in their little tinkling voices as they flew off.Lockhart, who had been crouching behind his desk, glanced up at Harry, who was still hovering near the ceiling. "Ha-Harry?" His dazzling smile had vanished now, and he was looking distinctly ill at ease. "Why... why are you up there?" His voice was cracking now, and beads of sweat gathered on his forehead. "You can't be up there! Oh, Merlin, I am hallucinating! Excuse me, children, I am feeling rather unwell... I will be in my office." He dashed out of the classroom door, leaving only a stack of brightly smiling books behind on his desk....Harry did feel bad about poor Lockhart, who had looked quite ill indeed, so after calming Neville down, he decided to stop by the professor's office and see how he was doing. But as he was walking in the direction of Lockhart's office, he suddenly heard a great voice from somewhere inside the ancient stone walls, speaking in Snake:*Come. Come to me... Want to rip... Want to tear... Come to me!" Snake! whispered Shard happily in the back of Harry's mind. Snakesnakesnake!Harry paused and listened. Yes, there was definitely a snake somewhere nearby, and a large one, too, by the sounds of it. He sounded rather moody, though. What exactly was it he wanted to rip? Harry hesitated. Normally, he would be happy to talk to any animal, but something about the voice of this particular snake didn't sound at all friendly.Lonely snake? suggested Shard, and Harry realized that Shard may very well be right. Perhaps this poor snake was just unhappy because he was all by himself?*Hello!* called Harry in Snake. *Where are you, then? I can hear you, but I can't see you.*There was a sudden pause in the low hissing inside the wall. Then the voice came again: *Come. Come to me. Just follow my voice... Follow me...**All right!* called Harry back. *Just keep talking then, and I'll find you in a minute.* He walked quickly along the ancient stone corridors, following the faint sound of muttered Snake behind the walls. He could sense Shard stirring eagerly in the back of his mind now, anxious to see the great serpent.But what was that? Something was stirring in the pocket of Harry's robes, and something sharp poked him in the ribs. It took Harry a moment to realize that it was his diary. How strange - he had never known it to move on its own accord before!"Tom?" Harry paused his steps and pulled the diary from his pocket. "What are you doing, Tom?" He pulled the diary out and opened it.You mustn't follow the basilisk, Harry, wrote the diary. I don't want you to be the one opening the chamber. Someone else, perhaps. But not you. I want you to stay here and tell me stories. Please?Harry stared, uncertainly, at the elegant handwriting that danced across the page.*Come!* insisted the snake. *Come to me!*Harry felt in his pocket for a quill so he could write something back to Tom, but he didn't have one.*Lonely snake*, whispered Shard. *Oursnake, oursnake.*Harry hesitated for a moment, then whispered into the diary: "It'll be all right, Tom. I'll tell you a story as soon as I get back. I won't be long." He closed the diary gently and put it back in his pocket. Was it just his imagination, or did the book still stir a little even after he closed it?*Come!* said the voice inside the wall. The snake sounded a little upset now. He must be getting very lonely inside that heavy wall by himself, poor thing.*All right!* said Harry soothingly. *Don't worry! I'm coming!*