Severus Snape glared at Lockhart across the breakfast table. That man was putting him off his bacon with all his darn hair flicking and dazzling smiles! Why couldn't he just go away? Or even better- just die?

Snape glanced at the other professors around the table, and was extremely surprised to see that they had the same expression as him: extreme loathing. Several times McGonagall's hand clenched into a fist, and at one point Flitwick conjured a mace and started playing with it suggestively, staring at Lockhart with hate radiating like laser beams out of his eyes.

"And I said: 'Great Scott! You can't give me the Witch Weekly Most Charming Smile Award for the sixth year in a row! I'm sure other people somewhere deserve it!' Of course, my manner was so charming that the poor witch fainted. I must say that I do have that 'je ne sais quoi'."

Before Snape fully realised what he was doing, he had raised his wand and was pointing it at the golden professor. "Setyourheadonfirearama!"

Lockhart's head exploded into flames, and the other professors just sat back, mouths agape and watched. Feebly Flitwick conjured some champagne to 'put the fire out'. Of course being alcohol, this just made the fire worse. Several teachers had to suppress a cheer as flame engulfed brains sprayed around the great hall- subconsciously deciding that the champagne would come in useful after all for a celebratory drink.

Snape watched the show silently until it was over, then without saying a word carried on with his bacon. He felt so good, he thought he'd have some porridge as well.

AN: The spell 'Setyourheadonfirearama' is now COPYRIGHTED by this author. Sorry. :) This is just so the LFT can't steal it- AND IF YOU DARE TRY… terrified? You should be.