"Wow," Harry breathed. "Thank you for the-"

"There's no need," Lockhart said with an elegant and dismissive wave of the hand. "There'll be a time in the future where you pledge to gift me your teeth so I can continue to win Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award, but that time is not now."

Harry, whose teeth were in a horrible state thanks to years with the Dursleys and Hagrid's rock cakes, nodded absently. Maybe this idiot would get himself killed before the night was through. If the sparkly glare on Edwardmort's face was any indication, it was possible.

"You were always a favourite student of mine, Harry. How have you been?" Lockhart asked, swishing his wand back and forth but ultimately not achieving anything. "Still practising your dramatic readings?"

Harry, who at this point was only a first year and had no idea that Lockhart actually taught him in his second year, but for the sake of this story had heard of the man through Hermione's post-Christmas ramblings, unaware that Hermione had played with herself for the first time to the mental image of Lockhart riding a unicorn on a beach while reading from Shakespeare, just nodded again, even more absent than the last. And as to why Lockhart had knowledge of teaching Harry but had not been Obliviated, lets just say some monkey signed a magical contract or something. It could happen.

Edwardmort cleared his throat, either to grab attention or to get the glitter out of his lungs. "You are a fool, Lockhart. You have no hope in beating me."

"No?" Lockhart raised a perfectly maintained eyebrow. "How many times have you won Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award, Cullen?"

Edwardmort scoffed. "You know just as well as I do they give you that award because we are in Britain, and nobody else in this country believes in proper hygiene."

Lockhart, who was Swedish of course, shot him a dazzling smile. "Jealous?"

Edwardmort's wand snapped up and shot off a dark curse. Lockhart shot Harry a heroic look and hefted his weight around deftly, twirling his wand like a baton and conjuring a solid platinum shield. The vampire's curse deflected off the shield's surface, and Lockhart paused to take a moment and look at his reflection in the shield. Evidently pleased with what he saw in the shield's surface, he banished it away in a puff of turquoise-coloured smoke, grinning dashingly as Edwardmort prepared another curse.

Lockhart got to him first, shooting out a bright orange spell. The spell hit Edwardmort's neck, a dark burn sizzling the vampire's alabaster skin. Edwardmort cried out and looked at the blemish in horror.

"Important spell, that one is," Lockhart said sagely. "Burn off those unwanted hairs, of course. Can't have a ratty beard all over-" he ran a hand over the smooth skin on his cheeks. "-this, can I?"

Harry, his neck already sore from all this absent nodding, nodded again. The thought occurred that, you know, walking away from this whole mess might be the best thing, and he tried to take the opportunity. Unfortunately, his first step had him trip over Bella's plain-looking still form, and for the rest of this battle, he suddenly found himself on the ground and trying to disentangle himself from the girl's body.

Meanwhile, Lockhart and Edwardmort's duel turned fierce. Unimaginable magics spat back and forth over the battlefield, from Edwardmort's Blood-Boiling Curses to Lockhart's patented Hair-Curling Charms. While Edwardmort dealt with the sudden curliness in his perfectly-kept locks, Lockhart would conjure his favourite Mirror Spell, which also happened to double as a handy shield. Spell after spell would fall victim to Lockhart's shield, and spell after spell would begin to warp Edwardmort's features. Lockhart crowed in triumph as his Tweezer Charm poked Edwardmort in the eye.

"You cannot win, Cullen," Lockhart spat, though in a pleasant and dashing sort-of way. From his spot on the ground, Harry rolled his eyes. Lockhart's cloak rippled in the non-existent breeze once more. "I have banished your kind before."

"Dark Lords?" Edwardmort hissed. "Or..." he shuddered in orgasmic pleasure as the word passed his own lips. "Vampires..."

Lockhart smiled. "Both, of course. Not to mention, I have destroyed beings with more power than you in one important field, my boy."

"Oh?"

"Oh yes. I have dealt with over-actors before."

Edwardmort's face twisted in a pretty rage. "WHAT?"

Lockhart didn't use his wand, but the effect his words had were enough of a curse to Edwardmort's vanity. "Oh yes. Large hams, we in the business call them. I have-" He paused and chewed at the scenery, ironically. "TRIUMPHED over them! I once destroyed the biggest over-actor in all of tinsel town."

"And who would that be?"

Lockhart, his hair moving in its own well-kept way, his cloak rippling, his handsome face bright and his lithe form standing tall in the cold, sparkly night. "Nicholas. Cage."

The force of Lockhart's words propelled Edwardmort back a few steps, his mouth wide and gaping in shock. "You dare-"

"I do," Lockhart said simply. He raised his wand. "I am the best man for the job, obviously. Stand back everyone, there's nothing here to see. Just imminent danger and in the middle of it?" He puffed himself up. "Me."

Harry averted his eyes to avoid getting blinded by the ass-kicking that followed. He finally stood up and left Bella's corpse behind, turning to see Hagrid.

"Holy shit-"

"Yer a wizard, 'Arry, an' a thumpin' good on' at tha'," Hagrid said, though his words were somewhat disturbed by the fucking arrow hanging through his giant nostril. He sneezed blood all over Harry, who was so desensitised by now that he could only shrug it off and absently wipe blood and snot off of his glasses.

"Hagrid, can we fucking get out of here?" Harry begged. He heard a feminine shriek - either Edwardmort or Lockhart - and ignored it. "Please. I will pay you. Gold. Lots of it. I will pay you in German pornography. I will find you a girlfriend. Anything."

Hagrid's smile widened, and the arrow dug in deeper. He said nothing, though he really looked like he wanted to. Something about thumpin' good wizards, or something just as out of character for him to say.

Harry shifted his focus to the epic duel. Both wizards were taking a moment, fixing their hair and making sure their clothes weren't clashing with the spells they were firing at each other. Edwardmort's red eyes gleamed as he spotted Harry watching the battle, and he let out a soft sound of surprise.

"Oh right," he said. "Supposed to take care of you..."

"I don't mind," Harry shouted. Hagrid stepped forward, accidentally crushing Bella's chest with his giant boot. He thumped Harry on the shoulder. "We should get going, actually-"

"No! Stay!" Lockhart cried. "I'm about to win this one!"

Edwardmort sneered. "You may have that silly award and you may've destroyed Nicholas Cage, but you are forgetting JUST ONE THING."

"What?"

Edwardmort flicked his wand. "I have more fans than you do! Avada Kadabra!"

Lockhart reeled from Edwardmort's veritable bitchslap and couldn't conjure a shield in time. He was about to protest, to tell the Dark Lord vampire thing that he had gone too far this time, when the sickly green jet of light hit him in the chest. The force of the spell, in dramatic fashion, propelled him back and he hit the ground, hair and cloak still rippling in the still air.

Harry gaped. Somewhere back in Hogwarts, Hermione Granger woke up from a nice dream and felt a disturbance in her panties. And not a good one, at that.

But, to the surprise of all the audience out there, Lockhart rose, pushing dust off of his shoulders. Everybody gaped, and Hermione went back to sleep with a small smile.

"Your powers are no match for mine, I'm afraid," Lockhart declared. "I will destroy you-"

And then he was cut off by Hagrid's cry of "Zombie!", and the sound of Hagrid pulling the arrow out of his face and throwing it like a javelin, the projectile whistling through the air and directed at Lockhart's face.

(written by MattSilver_3k)