Oh Lockhart, Oh Lockhart.
Summary: Gilderoy Lockhart is hardly mentioned in fan fics, so here's a fic, all to himself. And Harry. Very potions induced, one-sided, GLHP. I suppose that would make it a Gilarry.
Explanation and AN:This is a little one-shot that I thought of on our boat this morning. We were cruising around the GBR, and this little thing popped into my head. Don't worry, Fixing Destiny hasn't been abandoned, I just... have severe writers block at the moment. But I don't want to abandon it, because I have a heap of brilliant ideas to put in the sequel, and the middle and end. Anyways...
Disclaimer: Harry Potter & company belong to themselves, because they're real... I swear! (Alright, grudgingly backspaces previous JK Rowling owns Harry Potter because she's kinky like that)
Warnings: Contains sexual insinuations, esp. with a minor, some swearing and a purring Lockhart.
Dedication: This story is dedicated to Andy Lockhart, who is more like a Colin Creevey/Lockhart hybrid.
On the nineteenth of May, 1967, Denise and Andy Lockhart announced the birth of their first son, Gilderoy. Poor child, with a name like that, can we really blame how he would turn out?
Gilderoy's early childhood was a bright and happy one. He was the perfect child, his golden hair like the sun, his rosy cheeks and playful grin earned him a reputation with the mothers and grandmothers in the town as a little angel.
September the first, 1978, Lockhart started at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He made many friends, and excelled in Charms. He graduated in 1984, receiving an honorable mention for his Charms NEWT.
Lockhart immediately began work at the Ministry of Magic's Department of Magical Catastrophes as an Obliviator. However, he found this work unrewarding, and is rumoured to have left the position in bad graces with his employer.
Lockhart traveled the continent between 1985 and 1991, and authored several books during his travels. Most memorably, his defeat of a werewolf in Aberdeen, using only a Muggle Telephone. His first publication, Pixie Paraphernalia in 1985, failed to take off in the UK, but was a number one best seller in Australia. Year with the Yeti (1986) was a much bigger success, and is what launched Lockhart's career. 1987 saw the release of Gadding with Ghouls and Holidays with Hags, two Successful Top Ten placeholders for seven and twelve weeks respectively.
After taking a short break in 1988, Lockhart was able to produce the remainder of his collection.
Lockhart returned to the UK in 1992 for the release of his autobiography, and subsequent accepting of the Defence Against the Dark Arts professorship at his old school.
The following occurred on the day of his autobiography release.
Harry Potter was happy to say that since his life-threatening escapade the previous year, he had embraced his Slytherin side more. Now, he carried a variety of weapons around, not discounting his wand, however useless it may have been.
He had been reading up ion Wizardry Laws since he had received his official warning earlier in the Summer. And he had discovered a potentially life changing loophole. Strictly speaking, potions did not require the use of a wand, therefore the Ministry of Magic could not trace use. Harry had reluctantly pulled out his First Year Potions text, and brewed a few of the more, mischievous concoctions. Hair Growth, uncomfortable boils and rashes, Chameleon Skin, compulsion and mild infatuation potions were now safely hidden in his coat.
Although, it hadn't been easy. He was absolutely dismal at potions, and his cell in Privet Drive now had a slightly green ceiling.
It wasn't his fault that the spinach got in the way.
But, he had eventually gotten the hang of it.
Keyword there being eventually.
He snickered at his own joke ,causing several people to turn around to stare at him. Upon realizing he was the object of half of Flourish and Blotts patrons, he blushed slightly, and cleared his throat. Unfortunately, this attracted the attention of one Daily Prophet reporter and one Gilderoy Lockhart.
He looked ponsier than Hermione made him sound.
But no time for pondering's, because the toad like reporter had grabbed him by the upper arm and thrust him towards to celebrity.
"Harry Potter! Come, come together we can make the front page." said Lockhart, cheerfully.
Unfortunately, Harry wasn't even slightly cheerful.
"Oh, so, you need me to make the front page. Can't do it on your own?" remarked Harry. Lockhart wasn't to be deterred, and pulled Harry closer.
"Now, this wont take a minute Harry. Big smile!" grinned the blonde prat.
Now, if Harry was correct, which as it turns out, he often wasn't, then Lockhart was a superficial sort.
"Oh, sorry sir, I just can't help but notice, you have something in your teeth!" he squeaked, looking as if a piece of spinach in ones teeth was the end of the world. Apocalyptic.
In this case, Harry was right.
Lockhart was doing a rather interesting impression of an arachnophobic person who just spotted a particularly large spider.
"Agggh! Get it out!" he wailed
"Here Sir!" shouted Harry, whipping an ordinary drink bottle out of his coat. "I carry this with me all the time, just in case." Yeah, just in case he saw a person that was begging to be turned bright green.
Lockhart graciously took the bottle and swigged half down. Brilliant.
Harry smirked as his eyes clouded over. His smirk was soon wiped off his face when Lockhart's eyes focused on him.
"Who is this beauty before me?" exclaimed Lockhart, bending on one knee, clasping Harry's hand in his own, before kissing the upside. "Such tender skin, so young, so beautiful. Pose with me, my pretty!"
Poor Harry looked like he was about to have a heart attack when the Daily Prophet reporter snapped a full colour shot of Gilderoy Lockhart hugging young Harry Potter at the launch of Magical Me.
Poor thing almost fainted when Lockhart pinched his bottom. That bottom was his own, thank you very much. Now why was Lockhart reacting like that? Harry stole a glance at the pillock, to find him back at his desk signing books. Sitting next to him was a water bottle, half full of infatuation potion. Wait, infatuation potion? It was supposed to be colour changing potion, not infatuation. What had he done?
"Oh shit!" muttered Harry, gesturing for Ron and the twins to come over to him."Guys, you see that bottle over there on... Lockhart's desk..." Harry trailed off as he stared at the spot where Lockhart and the bottle had been. And they were now, nowhere in sight.
That Night in The Leaky Cauldron.
Harry sat at the bar with Ron, Fred, George and Ginny, sipping quietly on his butterbeer. He was deep in thought, while the others were attempting to balance bar nuts on their nose. How did he mix up the potions? And why him? Maybe if Snape had been a better teacher, and actually taught them, then maybe he wouldn't be in this position.
"Hello petal," purred a voice in his ear. He tried to turn around to see who it was, but the were preventing him from turning his barstool.
"Room 19" purred the voice, and Harry squeaked when a hand trailed from his shoulder down his chest, resting just above the waist of his jeans. "I'll be waiting" whispered the voice, and Harry felt them disappear.
"Fucking Lockhart and his fucking photo's" muttered Harry as he walked up to his room. The Weasleys had decided to stay in London for the night, before returning home in the morning. Harry had paid for his own room, Room 20.
Room 20 just happened to be across from Room 19, where Lockhart was leaning against the door.
"Come to visit Harry?" he pushed off the wall, and slowly backed harry into Room 20's door. "Or am I visiting you?" he asked, plucking the key from the young boy's hand, unlocking and opening the door. Lockhart's lips were suddenly on Harry's, and he found himself being pushed back...
"And I'm telling you, the Canon's keeper is better than the Dragons!"
"And I'm telling you Ronald Weasley, that the Harpies are better than... Harry?"
Lockhart immediately let go of Harry, and skulked towards his own room. Ron and Ginny were stood, flabbergasted at the end of the hallway, watching the interaction between Harry and the blonde.
Ron cleared his throat, as harry didn't appear to be breathing or moving.
"Look. Mate, I don't mind if you bat for the other team but..." started Ron, stupidly.
"No, it's OK. Lockhart was just... reminding me that I need to be on my guard more." replied Harry, shaking his head as if to clear it. "He's the new defence teacher after all, and I'm the source of trouble."
The two redheads looked slightly dubious, but let it slide.
Harry could've kissed them both.
Two Months Later
"Marry me Harry?"
If that bastard didn't shut up, Harry was going to research the way that Lockhart slew the hag, and the werewolf and the yeti and combine it into one big killing machine and use it on Lockhart.
But, Lockhart was pining, and no matter how many times Garry said it...
"No"
Lockhart always had some wonderful talent Harry really needed...
"But I give good head!"
Maybe not what he needed, nor wanted, or even knew how it worked.
"I'm twelve. I don't need sex."
But age didn't matter, not with super power Lockhart.
"But I'm a good cook"
It was a daily exercise. Wake up. Be proposed to. Eat breakfast. Be proposed to.
"No"
Go to class. Not learn anything because your professor is too busy trying to get into your pants or your family.
"Please"
Go to lunch. Be proposed to.
"No"
do homework. Get proposed to.
"I fought a werewolf"
Go to dinner. Get proposed to.
"I don't care"
Go to bed, and find a letter and a rose on your pillow.
"Marry me?"
"No"
"Please"
"No"
"Har-rrryyyy"
"Piss off"
"But I love you"
'No you don't:
"Love doesn't matter, Marry me?"
"No"
"Oh Harry... dear... come back..."
It was all very repetitious.
Luckily, Harry had been carrying his cloak around with him, and disappeared when he turned the corner.
Professor Albus Dumbledore terminated Lockhart's contract upon hearing that Lockhart had been found in one of the corridors, attempting to woo Harry Potter. Apparently, this had been going on for some time, and Albus felt it was for the best. He just wondered when they had set the date for.
VV Random... Please R&R