A rather short thing I wrote maybe a year or two ago. I can't remember why I never posted it, but it's cute, so...here you go. An appeasement if you're waiting for chapters of my multi-chapter fics, and a cute Lockhart thing if not!

~Elsi

As he looked at the pictures on the walls, Gilderoy nodded in satisfaction. The beautiful portraits beamed at them; he beamed back. All in all, it was a pretty good mirror effect. There were seventeen pictures of himself on the wall: some photographed, some painted, some black and white, some colored.

Placing a copy of Magical Me on the desk, Gilderoy turned and sat down at his desk, his eyes settling on the front cover of the autobiography. That picture had been taken specifically for the book, because what was an autobiography without a beaming, beautiful picture of the subject? Nothing, especially if said subject was wildly famous. He chuckled at himself, and eighteen beautiful men grinned back.

Next, Gilderoy turned his gaze to a picture of a younger self, smiling as he posed with a copy of Travels with Trolls. It was his first book and his first time applying that tricky memory charm. Gilderoy noticed a sense of nervousness on his own face and found himself frowning for the first time. He could clearly remember what his old self had been afraid of, and he was still sort of afraid of it. If someone found out that he was a fraud, he was finished. However, he was so famous that he almost – almost – got over it.

The issue troubled him from time to time, like this particular moment as he sat brooding in his new office. His current assignment was to teach his "special area of expertise". Of course, Gilderoy was slightly anxious about this. His co-workers, he knew, were used to dealing with teenagers, and could spot a lie from a mile away. It would take a lot of skill to pull of this year.

Then again, thought Gilderoy, he had that skill. Acting was one of his many talents – in fact, he had considered going into the Muggle world and becoming an actor. He was also a very talented writer; it was clear from his many successful books that he could lure a reader in. Before his travels, it was something else he had considered.

A knock on the door startled Gilderoy out of his thoughts, and he sat up straight as he invited his new visitor in. To his surprise, though he refused to show it, in walked Albus Dumbledore.

"Ah, Albus," said Gilderoy, keeping his smile perfect. "What a pleasant surprise. Although, I could have guessed you were coming." Lie.

"I'm sure, Gilderoy," answered Dumbledore, reaching for his wand. He conjured up a chair and sat down, summoning a cup of tea. At once, guilt pricked at Gilderoy.

"Just about to ask you about that," he lied swiftly. "But you're definitely very tricky, aren't you? Sort of like me…" He held up his hands to indicate around the room, and Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. Gilderoy resisted the urge to gulp and let the façade fall down, so he continued to beam stupidly. What was he forgetting?

"I just decided to make sure you were settling in without problems," Dumbledore went on after a few moments of careful silence. "How are you enjoying the quarters?"

"Well, it's not as grand as what I have back home, of course," Gilderoy said with a booming laugh. "But I know a few charms that will assist to make that comfortable as needed. It's perfect for any other teacher, though."

"Of course," Dumbledore replied calmly, bending his fingers together. He sipped his tea, watching Gilderoy thoughtfully. Keeping his smile intact, Gilderoy lifted up Magical Me, which he had moved to his lap without thinking.

"I was just thinking about what to do after this job," he started. "There aren't any pressing crises I know of, so I might just travel. Although, you never know what'll happen while I'm not there to protect innocent civilians." He laughed again, along with some of the portraits on the wall.

"I'm sure the Aurors, trained professionals, will be more than able to assist," Dumbledore said simply, but Gilderoy internally cringed, noticing the snide comment disguised by Dumbledore's cheerful tone.

"Oh, Aurors," he chuckled. "They're good, of course. I was thinking about joining them, but…ah…I'd rather take instruction from myself, if you know what I mean. Don't want to be held back or anything." After hearing himself talk, he wanted to slap himself. Insulting the Auror office was probably not a good idea. "You know what I mean, yes, Albus?"

"I see," murmured Dumbledore. The twinkle remained in his light blue eyes, and Gilderoy had a vague wandering thought that the older man might be hiding something as well. But if Dumbledore had caught on to any of Gilderoy's fumbles, he showed no sign of it. He took a last sip of his tea and stood up, waving his wand to vanish the objects he had conjured up.

"Is that all, Albus?" inquired Gilderoy slowly. "You don't have to rush off yet. I'm not horribly busy." Of course, he would rather the old man leave, but he couldn't really say that.

"Ah, yes," Dumbledore said matter-of-factly. "I prefer a nice stroll after my tea…maybe I'll go down and talk with the inhabitants of the lake." He nodded simply and walked out the door without a sound. Gilderoy watched him go before looking over at one of his portraits, who was barely holding back laughter.

"Crazy old coot," his painted self chuckled. Gilderoy smirked, but he was slightly – slightly – concerned about how much Dumbledore knew from their awkward conversation.

But, as this concern was barely anything at all, it didn't really matter. Gilderoy had more important things to worry about than his looming downfall.

Namely, he had to worry about that smudge on his best pair of turquoise robes…

What did you think? Not too bad for a year and a half ago, no? Actually I have no clue how it is...so let me know, ja? Thanks, friends. :D

~Elsi