Hi everyone, reviews are welcome!
Ch. 4 Gilderoy Lockhart
POV BELLA MCLAGGEN:
The next day however, I barely grinned once. I was dreading the mail. My parents knew what I'd done. Hermione was clearly disapproving of the way we had arrived.
"Mail's due any minute," said Neville. "I think Gran's sending a few things that I have forgotten."
There was a rushing overhead and a hundred or so owls streamed in, circling the hall and dropping letters and packages into the chattering crowd. Bitey brought a single letter, and my shaky fingers opened it. The letter was rather short.
Bellator Ignis McLaggen,
If you ever so much as think of doing something like this again, we will surely disown you. Can you possible imagine the shame you brought on our family? I do not dare to look the Minister in the eye again.
Your father, Cormac McLaggen Senior.
My teeth clenched and I felt rather sick. I'd rather have a Howler, yelling at me and telling me to never do that again. This was so short, so cold. And it didn't matter how many times my father had threatened to disown me, it looked like he truly meant it this time.
Speaking about Howlers, it looked like Ron had gotten one. "It's all right, he's still alive," said Hermione, prodding Errol with her finger.
"It's not that. It's that."
All the colour had left Ron's face and he was holding the Howler. "What's the matter?" said Harry.
"She's sent me a Howler," said Ron faintly.
"You'd better open it, Ron," said Neville in a timid whisper. "It'll be worse if you don't. my gran sent me one once, and I ignored it. It was horrible."
"What's a Howler?" asked Harry.
Our attention was fixed on the letter, which had begun to smoke at the corners. Ron stretched out a shaking hand, and slit the letter open. Neville and I stuffed our fingers in our ears. A roar of sound filled the huge hall, shaking dust from the ceiling.
"-STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT WAS GONE-"
Mrs. Weasley's yells, a hundred time louder than usual, made the plates and spoons rattle. Ron sank so low in his chair that only his crimson forehead could be seen.
"-LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOU FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU, HARRY, BELLA AND JANICE COULD HAVE DIED-"
I had been wondering whether or names were going to crop up.
"-ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED! YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME."
The red envelope burst into flame and curled into ashes. Hermione closed Voyages with Vampires and looked down at the top of Ron's head. "Well, I don't know what you expected, Ron-"
"Don't tell me I deserved it," snapped Ron.
"It could be worse," I said.
"Well, you didn't get a Howler, did you?" Ron mocked.
I handed him my letter. "Oh," he said shortly. "He doesn't mean it, does he?"
"I think he does," I said.
"Are you all right, Ron?" said Janice, who stood behind him.
"I'm okay," said Ron quickly, but none of us bought it. "Did you get a letter?"
"No," she said. "Professor Sprout hasn't written my mother."
Professor McGonagall was handing out schedules, we had double Herbology first.
POV LEXIE JONES:
"Greenhouse three today, chaps!" said Professor Sprout, not at all her usually cheerful self.
"Oy, Weasley!" Draco called out to Ron.
Ron jumped because of his loud voice. "Oh, I'm sorry," said Draco softly. "I guess you are afraid of anything or anyone that yells now, are you?"
Draco and Blaise sniggered and they took a seat in the greenhouse, which housed far more dangerous plants. "See you've got a bit of colour back," I said to him.
"Shut up," he snapped.
"I thought it was brilliant," I said. "Trains are too mainstream, we'll take a flying car."
I was pleased to see he could still laugh before I took a seat next to Claire. "Where's Harry?" I asked, looking around.
Claire pointed outside, where I saw him talking to Lockhart. Then Harry walked in, looking quite stunned. "We'll be repotting Mandrakes today," said Professor Sprout loudly. "Now, who can tell me the properties of a Mandrake?"
To nobody's surprise, Hermione's and Claire's hand were into the air. "Yes, Miss Gibbs?"
"Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative," said Claire. "It is used to return people who have been transfigured, petrified or cursed to their original state."
"Excellent," said Professor Sprout. "Ten points to Ravenclaw."
I looked around, bored as I was. I saw the mandrakes, Brown and Patil chatting animatedly, Longbottom listening intently, and Bella drawing in her notebook. "The Mandrake forms an essential part of most antidotes," said Sprout. "It is also, however dangerous. Who can tell me why?"
Draco put his hand around his neck and made a face, as though being strangled by a Mandrake. I giggled softly. Hermione's hand narrowly missed Harry's glasses as it shot into the air.
"The cry of the Mandrake is fatal to anyone who hears it," she said promptly.
"Precisely. Ten points to Gryffindor," said Sprout. "Now, the Mandrakes we have here are still vey young, so their cries won't be fatal yet. But they can knock you out for several hours, so put on a pair of earmuffs."
Sprout grasped one of the tufty plants firmly, and pulled hard. Instead of roots, a small, muddy and extremely ugly baby popped out of the earth. The leaves were growing right out of his head. It had pale green, mottled skin and was clearly bawling at the top of his lungs.
"Now, you will be repotting them yourselves," said Sprout. "Four a tray, there is a large supply pots over there. Compost is in the sacks over there. Good luck."
Bella, Janice, Claire and I took a pot. I grasped a Mandrake and pulled very hard. It's ugly face screwed up; it was screaming again. I jammed it into another pot and sprinkled earth over it. My hands were all dirty because of the dirt.
"Gross," I said. "That's why I don't like Herbology."
I looked over at Draco, he was tickling the Mandrake when it bit his finger. Because he wore dragon hide gloves, it didn't hurt him, but I still had to laugh. I was wearing ugly earmuffs, like everyone else, so he couldn't have heard me.
But I caught his eye and he smiled. By the end of class, we were all sweaty and covered in dirt. Have I mentioned how much I hate Herbology?
POV JANICE DIGGORY:
After Herbology, we had Transfiguration. That had always been difficult, but it was as though all my knowledge on the subject had leaked out this summer. We had to turn beetles into buttons.
Claire and Hermione, of course, succeeded immediately and even Lexie did it after a few tries. But all Harry and I had managed to do was give our beetle a lot of exercise; it was running away from our wands.
Ron was having far worse problems. He had patched up his wand with Spellotape, but it seemed to be broken beyond repair. It kept crackling and sparking at odd moments, and every time Ron tried to transfigure his beetle it engulfed him in thick gray smoke that smelled of rotten eggs.
Unable to see what he was doing, Ron accidentally squashed his beetle with his elbow and had to ask McGonagall for a new one, something she was not very pleased with.
I was relieved to hear the lunch bell. Everyone filed out of the classroom except for Bella, Harry, Claire, Hermione, Ron and me. Ron was whacking his wand furiously on his desk. "Stupid, useless thing!"
"Write home for another once," Harry suggested.
"Oh yeah, and get another Howler back," said Ron. "'It's your own fault your own got snapped!'"
He angrily stuffed his now sizzling wand and his books into his bag. We went down to lunch. "What've we got this afternoon?" Bella asked lazily.
"Defence Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione at once.
"Why," demanded Ron, seizing her schedule. "have you outlined all Lockhart's lessons in little hearts?"
Hermione snatched the schedule back, blushing furiously. "Mione's in love!" Bella laughed.
"I am also excited for his classes, I mean, look at all the things he's done!" Claire defended her.
A boy came running toward us, clutching a Muggle camera. "All right, Harry? I'm Colin Creevey," he said breathlessly. "I'm in Gryffindor, too. D'you think, I mean, would it be if all right if, er.. can I take a picture?"
"A picture?" Harry repeated blankly.
"So I can prove I've met you," explained Colin. "a boy in my dormitory says if I develop the film in a right way the pictures will move."
"Are you Muggleborn?" Bella asked.
"Yes," said Colin. "If you could take the picture, so I could stand next to Harry-" he faced Harry. "and then, could you sign it?"
"Signed photos? Are you giving out signed photos, Potter?"
Lexie's laughing and teasing voice echoed around the courtyard. As usual, she was surrounded by Draco Malfoy and personal body guards, Crabbe and Goyle. But someone else was there too. A dark, grinning boy I didn't know. They had stopped right behind Colin.
"Everyone line up!" Malfoy roared to the crowd. "Harry Potter's giving out signed photos!"
"No, I'm not," said Harry angrily. "Shut up, Malfoy."
"Well, that's a pity," Lexie smirked. "I've always wanted to have a signed photo of Harr-"
"You're just jealous," piped up Colin, whose entire body was about the same size as Crabbe's neck.
Lexie laughed right in his face. "Jealous?" she said, shaking with laughter.
"Of what should I be jealous?" Malfoy asked. "I don't want a foul scar across my head, thanks. I don't think getting your head cut open makes you that special, myself."
"Eat slugs, Malfoy," said Ron angrily.
"Be careful, Weasley," sneered Malfoy. "You don't want to start any trouble or you Mommy'll have to come and take you away from school." He put on a shrill, piercing voice. "'If you put another toe out of line'-"
"Shut up, Malfoy!" Bella snapped. "Colin was right, you're just jealous. Because you can only dream of getting that much attention-"
"McLaggen is being brave again," the dark boy said.
It was the first time he'd spoken. "let's watch what she does when I conjure up a little snake."
"Shut up, Zabini!" Bella said, getting red in the face. "I don't even know what you're talking about."
"Oh, I think you do," Zabini smirked. "Jones's told me-"
POV CLAIRE GIBBS:
"What's all this, what's all this?" Gilderoy Lockhart was striding toward them, his turquoise robes swirling behind him. "Who's giving out signed photos?"
Harry wanted to speak but was cut short by Lockhart. "Shouldn't have asked! We meet again, Harry! Come on then, Mr. Creevey, a double portrait. Can't do better than that. We'll both sign it for you."
"A word to the wise, Harry," said Lockhart softly.
I wasn't meant to hear it, but I wanted to listen. "I covered up for you, if he is photographing me too, your schoolmates won't think you're setting yourself up so much…" Deaf to Harry's stammers, Lockhart continued.
"Let me just say that handing out signed photos at this stage of your career isn't sensible- looks a tad bigheaded, Harry, to be frank. There may well come a time when, like me, you'll need to keep a stack handy wherever you go, but-" he gave a little chortle- "I don't think you're quite there yet."
Lexie giggled, her eyes were gleaming and the Slytherins were snorting with laughter. When we reached Lockhart's classroom, Harry took the seat most in the back and piled his seven Lockhart books in front of him. I flopped down next to him, together with Hermione.
"You could've fried an egg on your face," said Ron to him.
Lexie took the seat in front of Harry. "You'd better hope Creevey doesn't meet Ginny, or they'll be starting a Harry Potter fan club," she smirked.
"Shut up," Harry snapped. "I didn't ask for it."
"Oh, I know you didn't," said Lexie. "But the look on your face at moments like that is priceless."
When the whole class was seated, Lockhart cleared his throat loudly and silence fell. I had my notebook open and my quill ready. He must have so much to teach us, after all the things he's done. It would be so interesting to hear the stories from himself, and I can't still get used to the idea of Gilderoy Lockhart teaching us Defence Against the Dark Arts!
"Me," he said, pointing at himself and winking. Hermione sighed and she eyed him dreamily. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Most-Charming-Smile Award- but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"
He waited for us to laugh, but Hermione was one of the few who did. "Are you taking notes? Good," he said, and he was looking over at Bella. "I see you've all bought a complete set of my books, well done!"
"Are you taking notes?" I whispered to Bella.
Bella tried to clear away her notebook, but it fell. It wasn't full with notes, but all sorts of sketches, drawings and pictures. I picked it up. She had been busy with a drawing of big snake chasing her, it was very nicely done. It looked so real it almost frightened me.
"Give it back," she hissed and snatched her notebook out of my hands.
"I thought we'd start today with a little quiz," said Lockhart suddenly.
I hadn't followed what he had said at all. "What?" Janice piped up.
"Nothing to worry about," said Lockhart, smiling and winking again. "just to check how well you've read the books, how much you've taken in-"
I sighed with relief. I had read the books of course, I would be fine. I remember how vampires hate garlic, werewolves hate silver… I looked down at my paper and read:
1. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favourite colour?
2. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?
3. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?
On and on it went, over three sides of paper, right down to:
54. When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?
Half an hour later, Lockhart collected the papers and rifled through them in front of the class. What was this? He couldn't actually be serious, could he? Why would I care what's his favourite colour? He's supposed to be teaching us how to defend ourselves, not what his secret ambition is!
"… but Miss Hermione Granger knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care product, good girl! Ten points to Gryffindor! And now, to business-"
Lockhart had my attention again. He was finally going to teach us something. "Now, be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind!"
When I heard that, I wanted to be able to sink through the floor like a ghost. I remembered why I hated Defence Against the Dark Arts. I was hoping he'd teach us defensive spells, but we were actually facing monsters. Really terrifying ones!
"You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. But I must ask you not to scream, I might provoke them."
The whole class held his breath. My nails, freshly painted in a light shade of pink, sank into the mahogany table deeper and deeper. Lockhart whipped off the cover. "Yes," he said dramatically. "Freshly caught Cornish pixies."
I laughed of relief. Pixies had no teeth, or any other lethal weapon. The only thing they could do was annoy you to death.
"Yes?" he smiled at me.
"Well, they're not really dangerous, are they?" I choked.
"Don't be so sure," said Lockhart. "Devilishly tricky little blighters they can be! Let's see what you make of them!"
He open the cage and hell broke loose. The pixies shot in every direction like rockets, two seized Neville and took him high into the air, and one was pulling Hermione's hair. Lexie smashed it with her copy of Wanderings with Werewolves. "They're still good for something, his books," she smiled.
"Come one now, round them up, they're only pixies!" Lockhart shouted.
"Help us!" Janice shrieked. "Please, sir, we're sorry!"
He rolled up his sleeves, brandished his wand, and bellowed, "Peksipiksi Pesternomi!"
What kind of spell is that?
One of the pixies took his wand and threw it out of the window. Lockhart ran out of the classroom, shouting, "I'll ask you seven to nip the rest of them back into their cage!"
"Enough!" I shouted. "Immobulus!"
1. I wouldn't like to be part of Bella's family, I absolutely HATE her parents, they're expecting too much of her! Do you agree?
2. Lexie Jones; bully of funny girl? Are you angry she told Bella's secret to Blaise Zabini and the others?
3. Do you agree with Claire about Lockhart? (I also had a feeling I had to give her character a little more depth, do you agree?)
Bye-bye, lovelies!
