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I walked into Defense Against The Dark Arts, slightly curious to meet the new teacher. Lockhart seemed like a pompous imbecilic during the feast, but Hermione ranted and raved about him. Harry and Ron seemed less than impressed; but Dean told me to hold my reservations until I met the man myself.
And I must say, I was disappointed when I saw the new professor.
Professor Lockhart looked more like a store manikin than a teacher. His hair shone and was styled into curls that were clearly fake. His slightly chubby face was clear of any markings, not a single freckle, scar, or blemish to be seen. His dark grey eyes shone with a rather…disturbing amount of self-adoration.
All in all, Gilderoy Lockhart was annoying.
"Let me introduce you to your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher: Me! Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League and five times winner of Witch Weekly's Most- Charming-Smile Award." With that, Lockhart smiled, causing many of the students in the class to swoon.
"But I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!" Professor Lockhart said, earning a few weak smiles from the class.
Unfazed, the professor kept on talking. "I see you've all bought a complete set of my books. Well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about. Just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in..."
Papers began getting passed around the room. I accepted a test from Ron, and passed it on to the person sitting behind me. Ron scoffed, telling me that the test was going to be horrid at best.
"Look at these questions. They're all about him." Ron groaned. And it was true! Every question was about Professor Lockhart. I heard some giggling from a few Slytherin girls, who were quickly answering every answer.
"'What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?'" Harry read from the sheet, his brows furrowed in confusion.
"'What is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?'" Ron grumbled, shaking his head. I ran my eyes down the list. I hadn't bothered to read any of the books. Sure, they were on the shopping list, but I didn't get that until two weeks before class. How was I supposed to read that many books before class started?
"'What was the name of Gilderoy Lockhart's first pet?'" I read, huffing in exhaustion. "Why…why does this matter?"
"'When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday and what would his ideal gift be?'" Harry continued to read, reading in horror.
"You have thirty minutes. Start…now!" Lockhart said, sitting atop his desk. That was when I spied the quaking cage that was on his desk, covered by a sheet. Turning my attention back to my test, where I started writing down jokes as answers.
My test read something along the lines of this:
1. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?
Why, the color that he invented, of course.
2. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?
Being able to get a teaching position at Hogwarts.
3. What was the name of Gilderoy Lockhart's first pet?
Pocket mirror.
4. When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday and what would his ideal gift be?
It's once a year and he would like a larger pocket for a larger pocket mirror.
5. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite fabric?
The most expensive and gaudy fabric.
6. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's Hogwarts house?
His head is so massive, he was most likely was sorted into every house.
After turning in our tests, it took Lockhart mere moments to sort through everyone. I noticed a few well-placed glares he sent around the room, and I didn't miss the rather venomous one I received.
"Tut, tut. Hardly any of you remembered my favorite color is lilac! I say so in Year with the Yeti." Lockhart said, traipsing around the room. I decided to ignore him, but I was forced to pretend I gave half a damn when he came prancing over to Hermione, who sat next to me.
"But Miss Hermione Granger knew that my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair care potions! Good girl." Lockhart smiled, calling for Hermione to identify herself. She did, beaming from ear to ear. He even gave us ten points! Beside me, Ron grumbled and crossed his arms on his desk. He was clearly done with Gilderoy's nonsense as well.
"And so, to business!" Lockhart said, marching over to his desk. "Now-be warned!"
Warned? Why is he warning us?
"It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizard-kind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm." Lockhart said, his chest puffed out in pride. I edged my chair out a little, ready to run for the door incase anything got a little too crazy. I don't trust this man to save me from a fly.
I looked to Ron and Harry, who looked enthralled. Curious as well, I turned back to watch Lockhart, who was pulling the cover off of the shaking cage on his desk. Dean, who was sitting behind me, reached forward to clasp my shoulder nervously. Neville and Seamus were sitting in the front row, looking very nervous.
"I must ask you not to scream, it might provoke them." Lockhart whispered, and the classroom fell silent. All Gryffindors and Slytherins were dead silent.
"Freshly caught Cornish pixies." Lockhart said dramatically as he whipped off the cover with a flare. A few students began to laugh, and I slammed my head down onto my crossed arms.
"Devilish tricky little blighters they can be!" Lockhart announced, wagging his finger at the enraged creatures. Their tiny, blue bodies bounced around inside their cage; and they were screeching loudly.
"Let's see what you make of them!" Was our only warning as Lockhart opened up the pixies' cage. The little creatures rocketed out of their cage with vengeance, careening around the room tormenting the class. A few broke through the windows at the back of the classroom, sending glass everywhere. The broken pieces showered down upon us, a piece slicing into my cheek. The pixies were picking people up, shredding books, breaking objects, and throwing things out the broken window. I looked up to see poor Neville hanging helplessly from the chandelier.
"Come on now! Round them up, round them up, they're only pixies," Lockhart shouted, seeming annoyed. Dean, who looked rightly angered, fired a petrificus totalus at a pixie, who hit the ground with a sickening smack. I followed his lead, but it was hard to aim at the fast little buggers. One managed to get behind me and pull at my braid. I yelped, swatting at the creature.
"Do something!" A girl, Sally-something Perks was her name, screamed as she dove for the safety of her desk. Lockheart rolled up his sleeve and brandished his wand like he was posing for a picture.
"Peskipiksi Pesternomi!" He shouted, waving his wand wildly. The pixies were not affected, but it seemed to make them angry. Two of the pixies snatched Lockheart's wand and threw it out the back window. Now unarmed, Lockheart dove under his desk just as the bell rang.
"Neville!" Hermione yelped as the chandelier gave under the boys weight and he crashed to the floor. He quickly got back to his feet and ran out the door, screaming about pixies. After Neville, all the students started running for the door. Lockheart shoved a few of us out of his way and turned to smile at Harry.
"Well, I'll ask you three to just nip the rest of them back into their cage." Lockheart smiled, practically slamming the door and closing Ron, Hermione, and Harry inside the room.
Pissed, I stomped my foot. "What do you think you're doing? Let them out!"
Lockheart, who had his back pressed against the door, shook his head. Almost all the other classmates had run off, including Dean and Seamus.
"Let them out!" I shouted again. The Slytherin girl that had hidden under her desk, Sally something Perks, came to stand beside me.
She was pretty, in the way that she didn't have an upturned nose like most of the Slytherin's did. Her dark black hair trailed down her back and her hazel eyes shone with anger. Her ear was lightly bleeding, most likely from a pixie bite.
"I wonder what Dumbledore will think when he hears about this." The Slytherin said, her eyes narrowing in dislike. "He would question you thoroughly about your…abilities."
Lockheart's face burned red and a nervous smile spread across his quaking lips. Chuckling, the professor opened the door, from which Harry, Hermione, and Ron raced out of. The trio raced down the hall.
The Slytherin girl smirked, tossing her glossy hair over her shoulder. In equal strides, the girl and I walked down the hallway to our next class, Potions, which we Gryffindors had with the Slytherins.
"Thanks for the back up there, Sally-Arin-"
"It's Sally-Anne," The Slytherin said, her grip on her books tightening. "…but call me Perks."
I smiled at the girl, who smirked back. Khan wasn't bad and he was a Slytherin, so why wouldn't Perks be decent? Slytherin wasn't all good, hell no! Not with Draco and his cronies. Then again, other houses had some real nasty characters, too.
Harry was about to pull the hair out of his head. Little Colin Creevy seemed to take every breath alongside Harry! The first year did not want to leave Harry's side. At every meal, Colin was seated beside Harry watching him with star struck eyes.
Even though Harry thought he was annoying, I thought it was adorable. Harry had a little shadow!
"You find amusement in this, don't you." Harry hissed at me one morning, shoving oatmeal into his mouth. "Wicked girl."
I laughed, finding some joy in how Harry shied away from little Colin. I waved to the boy, who was searching the Great Hall for Harry. Harry kicked at my shins angrily, but missed and kicked Lavender Brown; who hissed angrily at Harry, who apologized sheepishly.
"He loves you Harry." I sighed, a warm feeling coming to my chest. "He looks up to you. It's sweet."
Harry harrumpfed, tucking back into his breakfast.
I sat in the courtyard, breathing in the crisp air. It was going to be too cold soon to come out regularly. I pulled off my knee-high socks and wriggled my toes in the grass. I scribbled down an outline for the Charms essay that was due next week when I heard someone flop down beside me. The smell of cigarette smoke told me immediately who it was.
"McHugh."
"Khan." I greeted the older Slytherin.
"How's this year been treating you so far?" Khan asked, fiddling with an empty box of cigarettes. It must be had to get ahold of them on school grounds; it wasn't like he could magic them out of thin air.
"Decently," I said, putting my essay outline to the side. "I can't stand Lockheart."
Khan nodded, cracking his knuckles. Lockheart had been an obnoxious teacher. I couldn't believe Dumbledore allowed him to be a professor. I had written to Uncle Bud about Lockheart, but I had received no response. I was angry! He promised he would answer my letters this year.
"He's a fraud, I'm sure of it." Khan scoffed, eyeing a passing group of giggling Ravenclaws. "Watch yourself, Kid. Lockheart's gonna mess up one day and someone's going to get hurt as a result."
I agreed; I could see that happening. Lockheart's curriculum was ridiculous. He had us reading his stupid books, which were very adventurous, but I couldn't believe that Lockheart had really done all the things he says he did.
From around the bend, a lone Slytherin appeared wearing a Quidditch uniform. "McHugh!"
I groaned, tossing myself into the grass. "What's he doing here?"
Khan chuckled, his elbows resting on his bent knees. "Fool of a boy. His father bought the Quidditch team new uniforms and brooms, so he's the new seeker. The teams got the go-ahead from Snape to kick you Gryffindors off the field for practice. He's probably come to gloat before the team goes to harass yours. Wait for the moment I give you the signal, and then run."
Before I could ask what the signal was, just as Khan predicted, Malfoy swaggered over to us, chest puffed in pride underneath his green and silver uniform. His platinum blonde hair was slicked back and a pair of goggles hung around his neck.
"Hello, Kato." Malfoy greeted, his icy gaze trailing to Khan. "Khan."
"Back off, punk." Khan hissed, rotating his head to crack his neck. "I don't think Kid wants to hear your pitch."
Insulted, Draco's face turned red. Khan shot me a glance, telling me to scram. He was giving me an opening to run to the field and warn the Gryffindor team about the Slytherins. I grabbed my socks and shoes before rushing off to the Quidditch pitch, silently thanking Khan for allowing my quick escape.
The Gryffindor Quidditch team was in the middle of practice when I made it to the pitch. A few Gryffindors were sitting leisurely in the stands, sitting with their friends and chatting. I ran onto the pitch, trying to wave down one of the players. The first player to notice me was Angelina Johnson, an older girl in Fred and George's year. She flew down and hovered a few feet above my head.
"Is there something wrong?" Angelina asked, cocking her head to the side. I was still breathing heavy from my mad dash across the campus.
"The Slytherins are coming!" I gasped, catching my breath. "I heard that Snape gave them the right to take the pitch for practice!"
Angelina's brow furrowed in anger, her fingers going to nervously run through her dark brown hair. With a nod of thanks, she shot back into the air. The Chaser sped over to the Captain, a good looking boy named Oliver Wood. She whispered to him and I swear I could have seen his ears blow steam. The Captain zoomed over to me, his face red in anger.
"You!" Wood groused. "Where did you hear that utter-"
Wood shut his mouth as a flood of green came onto the field. The entire Slytherin team stood before us, looking like they had the right to be there. There wasn't a single girl on the team; but what was I to expect? Typical Slytherin, why not add sexism to their list of bad qualities.
"I don't believe it!" Wood hissed in outrage. "I booked the field for today! We'll see about this!"
The rest of the team, having finally noticed the Slytherins on the pitch, flew down to stand beside Woods and I. I wanted to get the hell off the pitch, but the Slytherins were blocking the way out. My still bare feet wiggled in the soft grass. Maybe if I threw my shoe at Flint's head, it would knock him out and Gryffindor can go back to practicing.
"Flint! This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!" Woods shouted at the Slytherin Captain. Flint was a doofy looking boy, with yellowed teeth that stuck out every which way. Flint towered over Wood, most likely because he had gotten his mother's Mountain Troll genes.
"Plenty of room for all of us, Wood." Flint sneered. The rest of the Slytherins said nothing, but sneered and leered at us Gryffindors. I felt one of the girls, Katie Bell, come to stand in front of me when one of the Slytherin beaters stepped a little too close to me. Katie was always like that; very protective of the younger years.
"I booked the field! I booked it!" Wood spat, practically burning red with rage.
Flint smiled, a crooked smile that furthered my belief that he was partially a Troll. "But I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. 'I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker'. "
"Where's your new Seeker?" Woods scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. From behind the much larger boys, came Malfoy.
"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" asked Fred, or was it George, with a sour look on his face.
"Draco's father gave us a rather generous gift." Flint said, sounding smug. All seven of the players held out their brooms, which were polished to perfection. They were beautiful looking brooms and even I could tell that they cost a pretty penny.
"Very latest model! Came out last month. I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleansweeps, it sweeps the board with them." Flint smirked, causing the team, who mostly had varying series of Cleansweeps, to growl in anger.
I frowned at Malfoy, who looked so smug with himself. His icy eyes were narrowed into snooty slits. What I wouldn't give to knock the smug look off his face. I'd give my left eye for one good punch.
"Oh look," chuckled Flint, who was leaning on his new broom. "A tiny field invasion."
Hermione and Ron, who had been lounging in the stands, came running across the grass to join our group. Hermione carried an armful of books tucked into her side and Ron's mouth was rimmed with chocolate.
"What's happening?" Ron asked worriedly. "Why aren't you playing? And what's he doing here?"
Malfoy puffed his chest out proudly. "I'm the new Seeker, Weasley. Everyone's just admiring the brooms my father's bought our team."
Ron gaped like a fish at the polished brooms. They were rather…stunning. It made my mouth taste sour to admit.
"Good, aren't they? Perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives! I expect a museum would bid for them." Malfoy sneered, earning peals of laughter from his teammates.
"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in. They got in on pure talent." Hermione stepped up the defense, her wild hair blowing behind her. The smug smirk on Malfoy's face dropped and a sneer appeared.
"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood." Malfoy spat.
Uncle Bud explained to me about words that should never be said. In the Muggle world, you never said words that were racial slurs. Uncle Bud said that they were the worst things you could say. When I was a little kid, a classmate called me a Bog-Trotter, and I remember how hurt and angry it made me. There were bad words to call people in the Magical world, too.
People like Malfoy believed in what Uncle Bud called 'blood superiority'. They thought that those with 'pure blood' were better than people like Hermione and I, who were 'Half-bloods' and 'Muggle-borns'. Purebloods would usually call others Mudbloods.
Rage hit me like a fire. How dare that little brat call Hermione that! The Gryffindor team jumped to Hermione's defense, shouting at Malfoy. Flint had to protect him from an attack by Fred and George, who were foaming at the mouth to kick the shit out of Malfoy.
Ron, was surprisingly, the most enraged. He pulled his wand out of his robes and aimed the crooked wand at Malfoy. "You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!"
A flash of green accompanied a loud bang. The spell fired out of the wrong end of Ron's broken wand, striking him. Ron flew to the ground, landing flat on his back.
"Ron! Are you alright?" Hermione gasped, rushing to Ron's side. Wincing, Ron opened his mouth, but no words came out. What did come out was a loud burp followed by slugs spewing out of his mouth.
"Oh my god!" I said, worried about Ron. Could he breathe while throwing up slugs?
The Slytherin team was howling, some crumpled to the ground in laughter. Malfoy was on all fours like the rat he was, tears streaming down his eyes. None of the others paid any mind to the Slytherins; they were too busy trying to figure out how to handle Ron.
"We'd better get him to Hagrid's, it's nearest," Harry said, hefting Ron's arm over his shoulder. Hermione took the other side, and I rushed to gather Ron's wand and his things that he had left on the bleachers.
I caught up with the group when they were halfway to Hagrid's cabin. Ron was still puking slugs, and didn't seem to be slowing down. His chin and front of his shirt was covered in slug slime and his eyes were narrowed in disgust.
"Nearly there, Ron," said Hermione."You'll be all right in a minute…almost there-".
Hagrid's door opened before we even knocked, but it was not Hagrid that exited. It was Lockhart, all preened and pressed. Harry quickly led us to a hiding spot behind a bush. I slapped my face. Just what we didn't need.
Looks like Ron's going to be puking slugs for a little bit longer.