Hi there! Welcome to my new story. This is a chance for you to get to know what happens to a characters lives, where it is not explained in the books. This will be in the form of Gilderoy Lockhart asking them questions sent in. The characters will be the age they would be the year this is posted, although it won't make a huge difference. The show itself will not be considered part of my timeline.

This means I want you to send in your questions to the next character to be interviewed. Your questions can be anything at all, from the past and future. Please send these to me either by PM or review and you can ask to be anonymous. Even if they have been interviewed, feel free to ask them questions.

I'd also like you to suggest the next character to be interviewed. They could be dead as well, I'll bring them back for this.

Anyway, enjoy.

Raucous applause filled the largely blue-coloured studio as the blond haired host entered the stage, beaming widely. His hair was wavy and his teeth shone as bright as the sun; free sunglasses were given to the audience. He was handsome and wore bright gold robes. "Yes! It's your host...GILDEROY LOCKHART!" he announced loudly. Some women in the crowd screamed. "Thank you, thank you. That's enough," he said, although his smile indicated it wasn't enough. "Yes, I have recovered my memory, just to bring this show to you...and what a show. We have an endless list of guests...and it's hosted by me!"

The rest of the studio had the benches for the audience, two stands for the interviewer and the interviewee, the words 'Gilderoy Lockhart' in massive, bright letters on the back wall and many portraits of Lockhart from different angles. "Anyway, our first guest is Mr Dudley Dursley!" A door opened up on the other side of the stage and a stocky man exited, looking apprehensive. He had short, black hair, a piggy face and a bent nose; he raised a meaty hand in appreciation of the audiences cheers. "Excellent, excellent," Lockhart muttered distractedly, wishing the spotlight was back on him. By this point, Dudley had reached the podium and, still looking confused, he looked expectantly at Lockhart. "Now, Mr Dursley, remind us, if you don't mind, how old you are."

"I am 36" said Dudley. He seemed relieved at answering his first question.

"And it's your birthday today isn't it!"

"It is yes. I went-"

"Excellent, excellent. What have you done to celebrate it?"

Dudley bared his teeth. "Well, I went with my family for a nice meal, and we watched a boxing match," he growled.

"Ah yes, you were a boxer is that correct."

Dudley looked happy to be on a subject he was comfortable with. "Yeah, I was a regional champion and competed in many competitions until I retired about five years ago."

"Please tell us, what is boxing? I'd also like to remind the audience that Mr Dursley here is actually a Muggle." At that the crowd clapped it's approval. Perception of Muggles had certainly skyrocketed since the war.

"Well, boxing is where two people enter an arena and hit each other until the other one gives in."

Lockhart's smile vanished instantly, to be replaced with a look of disgust. He quickly regained his composure and changed it back. "Sounds quite violent, Mr Dursley," he said with faux-happiness, a cheesy smile pasted on his face. "So, you were successful."

"Yeah. I almost made the British team for the 2008 Olympics but..."

"But what, Mr Dursley," said Lockhart, who looked eager to his this gossip.

"The coach didn't like my attitude. You see I had anger issues, which definitely helped with my boxing, but the coach didn't think I was sporting enough. I've got over it now though. Anyway, after I retired I became a boxing coach."

"Anyway," Lockhart said. "Harry Potter. Your cousin." The audience gasped. "What's that like?"

Dudley breathed in deeply, looking apologetic. "It's pretty normal really." Lockhart looked disappointed. "For the first ten years of our lives, I bullied him horribly. I hate myself when I think of those times but it was programmed into me by my parents, I guess. The, we found out he was a wizard and I hated him more for it, although I couldn't bully him anymore. But when we went into hiding with those strange wizards during the war, I learnt more about him and learnt what he was going through. I felt pity for him. When we next saw him, I made sure to apologize and we worked on our relationship. We're not what I'd call friends but we visit each other every now and then."

"Is that with his family?"

"Yeah, his wife and three kids." He gave a small chuckle, and had a nostalgic grin on his face. "I remember when I first met his wife, Ginny, I had quite a crush on her...but she soon saw me straight."

"Yes, she's a beauty isn't she."

"Yeah," said Dudley, slowly and uncertainly.

"Are you sure you still don't have feelings for her?"

"What? NO!" Dudley exclaimed, his temperature rising and his fists clenched.

"Well anyway. Here's a question sent in from Mrs Gloria Appleby from Preston. She says 'Dudley, you have a sexy body. Are you married?' Ha, are you sure that wasn't meant for me, Mrs Appleby?" laughed Lockhart. The vein in Dudley's forehead grew.

"Yes! I am married," Dudley snarled. "I married a local girl, Joan Willis, in 2003."

"We both tried to distance ourselves from our parents in our late teenage years and we fell together really. She's an amazing woman."

"She hot?"

Dudley exploded in rage, that his father would be proud of. "WHAT! YOU CANT ASK THAT!"

"Tetchy, tetchy. I thought you said you had gotten over your anger issues."

"I had," Dudley said, with gritted teeth.

"And finally, Mr Fred Corpseeater of Peckham asks 'when will you die?'

"I dunno, do I?" said a still angry Dudley.

"No you don't but it gives us a chance to use our brand new feature. THE FUTURE BALL!"

A red curtain at the back dropped to reveal a disgruntled looking Sybil Trelawney and a crystal ball. A jingle played:

It's Sybil Trelawney

She'll tell you the story

Of-your-liiiiiife

Trelawney failed to stop frowning as the song played. "What has my life come to," she muttered. "My glorious skills being used for a TV program run by this buffoon."

"Sybil, can you please tell us when Dudley will die?" Dudley paled.

"I can tell you when you will die...soon," she uttered under her breath. "Of course," she said in a lofty voice. "I see...I see...a car crash...at aged...36...no, 49. Oh, it's horrible. THE BLOOD! THE BLOOD!"

"Thank you Sybil and- oh!" Dudley had just fainted. "Well, that's it for our first interview. It's no good interviewing an unconscious corpse- er, person. Goodnight."

Next up: Ginny Weasley