Merry Christmas, Lamia!
Back again?" he twirled his cape around with a flourish that she found positively glamorous.
"Yes, Mr. Lockhart," Rita said cheerily. "Have you remembered anything since I last came?"
"Remembered what? I wasn't sure there was anything to forget!"
Rita sat down and spelled out of her bag her quill and pad. The Prophet readers would have a blast feeling sorry for this man. Perhaps she would be able to milk them and make a memoir about seeing him in his obliviated state.
"Does any of this ring a bell? Harry Potter? Basalisk? Ron Weasley? Obliviation?"
She pushed her glasses up her nose, waiting for a response. As an act of ironic humor, she had almost bought him a remembrall, but she decided that wouldn't be very nice after all.
"Dearest me!" Lockhart cried. "I've finally remembered. I forgot to put on the tea kettle!"
He scurried off to the kitchen, Rita's pen scratching madly.