A/N: Another one for the Fanfic dominoes, this time Gilderoy/Gilderoy as my pairing.


With a soft click, Gilderoy closed the door behind him. He locked it, just to be safe. Normally, he wouldn't mind people coming in for autographs, but heavens forbid a student would barge in, or worse - one of the staff! He shuddered at the thought and double checked the lock. Then he let himself fall down into his favourite armchair and undid his robe.

Fawning girls, middle-aged women with heaving bosoms, broad shouldered men, anyone somewhere in between ... Gilderoy wasn't too picky on who he'd spend the night with - everybody loved him, and that was all that mattered. However, the person he'd most liked spending time with was Gilderoy Lockhart. Or rather, several Gilderoy Lockharts.

As he sat down, the paintings around him began to speak all at once.

"It's about time!"

"What took you so long?"

"Dim the light, I get an awful complexion from that lamp!"

Gilderoy chuckled. "Oh, how I've missed me!" He let out a content sigh.

"You know, we look particularly good-looking tonight," Gilderoy in a peacock blue gala costume said. "Very suave."

"I agree," another Gilderoy said. This one carried a trophy on which could be read "Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile". "Purple suits us."

The third Gilderoy, the one that was painting another self-portrait, tutted.

Gilderoy raised an eyebrow, annoyed at the interruptions of flow. "Why are you tutting?"

"Purple makes our skin so pale. We look so much better in aquamarine, but we seldom wear it!" painter-Gilderoy pouted.

The other Gilderoys considered this for a moment.

"He has a point," Gilderoy-with-the-trophy said.

"I still think that a somewhat deeper shade of blue would match our eyes greatly," Gilderoy-in-the-gala-costume mused. He twirled around. "Admit it, don't we look dashing?"

"It's better than black, anyway," another Gilderoy chimed in squeakily. This one wore Hogwarts robes, and was fairly new to these evenings, so he hadn't dared join in earlier. "I mean, look at what they make us wear in this place!"

The other Gilderoys looked disdainfully down at him.

"It's awful," Gilderoy-with-the-trophy said.

"Why did we agree to do this, again?" Gilderoy-in-the-gala-costume said. "It can't be the salary. And it most definitely can't be because of the clothes..."

Gilderoy-in-the-Hogwarts'-clothes cowered. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend us..."

"It's not your fault," Gilderoy said. "Of course they needed to dress us down," he added condescendingly. "How else would all those youngsters learn anything with the constant confrontation with our fine looks as an easy diversion from their dull schoolwork? We wouldn't have a moment of peace! And our poor colleagues. They already feel humbled by our mere presence, no need to rub it in, eh?"

The other Gilderoys agreed that it was most generous of them to let lesser human beings have a sense of pride, too - though Merlin knew why they even bothered, since it was obvious that anyone fell short in comparaison with them - why didn't they see so for themselves and save everyone a lot of trouble? They got into a bit a bit of discussion, but then Gilderoy cut it off.

"Enough about them, let's talk about a more interesting topic. Why don't we talk about me..."