A wide, vaulted hall. The ceiling higher than seemed humanly possible. From wall to wall, the ancient marble pillars and stone facades were scarred with the forgotten shadows of a thousand battles- sections of wall burnt, holes missing from the ancient domed ceiling. The floor itself was covered in a mosaic pattern that seemed to change every time you looked at it, the faded stone etched with the footsteps of a thousand students. The air itself, it seemed, was grey today- so was everything else in the room. From the desks to the carved Hogwarts coat-of-arms (Draco dormiens nunquat titillandus- Sam resolved to find the translation for that), everything seemed to be cracked, old, and worn. But it was not the kind of wear that would make a magical house seem in shambles, or a gilded mansion fall into despair- no, by the contrary, it seemed to give the hall a feeling of strength, a unique quality that came with the sort of battles that had been fought here- a sort of majesty. Yes, majesty was the word.

This was the Hogwarts Defence Against Dark Arts Hall of Instruction.

Their teacher, shrouded in shadow, was standing on top of a small, grey pedestal, dwarfed by the massive shield behind him(or was it her?), braced on two sides by twin pillars of marble with blazing torches planted on them. But it wasn't the torches that gave the room it's light. At the very top of the dome, a massive THING, glowing with light, dressed with the symbols of unknown power, inscribed with stranger patterns. Words began to float to Sam's mind. Durmstrang, Beauxbaton, Illvermony, Mahoutokoro, Castelobruxo, Uagadou, Hogwarts... It was a mesmerising sight. He had no idea words the words meant, of course, but if you stared hard enough, you could just begin to see a map-

"CLASS! To attention, please."

Sam woke up from his daydream, and looked around the small, dingy classroom hastily labelled "Room 31: DADA Y1" on his map. Several brass cages of unknown application dangled from the patched, leaky ceiling, the few torches that worked cast a flickering light, and the tables and chairs. far from being made of magically polished marble, were merely held together by shoddy craftsmanship and possibly a charm of Mending or two. Their teacher, a most pompous looking man possessing of a most disastrous fashion sense, had chosen on this merry occasion to wear a brightly coloured, multilayered set of robes that made him look like a walking commercial more than anything- not that he would know what a commercial was, but still. His mouth, perpetually frozen in a ridiculous smile, was only outmatched in eagerness by his eyes, which seemed to never rest. here was a man who had great dreams, and far too much empty space in his brain to dream said dreams.

"Well well well, I must say, I'm most pleased to see all of you here to day. Remind me again, you are... Yes! Hufflepuff! Don't bother raising your hand, I would have never forgotten it. And I assume you all already know me?"

A sea of silent faces, followed by half-hearted attempts to look for his name.

"No one? no one knows your poor Defence Professor? Most experienced professor at Hogwarts? Anybody? ANY ONE?"

The silence grew even more embarrassing.

"Well, that's a right shame. I suppose I'll just have to introduce myself- I'm Lockhart. Gilderoy Lockhart- that's Professor Lockhart to you. One time winner of the Witches Weekly's Most Charming Smile award, professional writer (Sam hadn't seen a single one of his books in the bookstores at Daigon Alley), and your first-year Defence Professor." His smile, if it were possible, became even more bright, showing off a set of impeccably polished teeth- and nothing else. His face had a sort of self-ascribed glamour to it, the type you'd find with people who would talk about everything they've accomplished in their lives while wearing a run-down T-shirt from god knows where and smelling heavily of poorly brewed beer from the local pub. As the class watched in a mixture of trepidation and pity, the teacher stepped forward to reach for his books- and tripped on the ends of his overly long robes, falling in an undignified heap on the floor.

"Well- Sorry about that- Back to the class. If you will all open your books- (flipping) you will find that I have also taken the liberty of creating an educational text compatible with my high standards, given to all of you for the fair price of one galleon. Now, I would like you to begin reading chapter one: The Many Accomplishments of Gilderoy Lockhart."

It said something about a man when his own introduction took up an entire chapter of a textbook he'd written.

Being an avid reader, Sam had, naturally finished the book far before anyone else in Hufflepuff. What was interesting, however, was that even those wo had clearly never seen the book before finished the first chapter with extreme speed, and within five minutes the class waited expectantly for his next instruction. Seeming rather surprised, their alleged "professor" would then spend the rest of the class giving them what amounted to a personality quiz.

"Question One: How did Gilderoy Lockhart, defeat..."

"...Describe the circumstances in which Mr. Lockhart..."

"...Gadding with Ghouls, three examples of Gilderoy Lockhart's ingenuity are given..."

"...Mr. Lockhart's greatest wish?"

"...his many inventions, Mr. Lockhart is most proud of..."

"Question Thirty: Why is Gilderoy Lockhart the greatest wizard ever?"

Needless to say, very little defence instruction against whatever amounted to a "dark art" was given in the lesson, unless the dark forces referred to people who didn't understand the greatness of Gilderoy Lockhart. "Professor" Lockhart finished the lesson with merely an assignment to read chapters two to five, all of which were advertisements for his (probably non-existent) achievements in fighting against the Dark Forces.

"What a bloody joke," Sam muttered as he left the classroom.

"What, Defence?"

"What else?"

"What's your next lesson?"

"Funny, mine doesn't say-"

"Hmm... Gimme a sec."

Ron briefly tapped Sam's wand against the parchment, showing...

All members of Hufflepuff house due for mandatory introduction session.

"Huh. Introduction session- more like indoctrination session, judging by the way they've made this place. Look at this!" Sam pointed at an elaborate inscription upon the wall, almost like wizard graffiti.

WIZARDS! Defend yourselves- do not buy from MUGGLE-BORNS!*

"How is this legal?!" Sam's face was livid.

"Well... I hear the blood supremacists regularly put this up, and Filch just "forgets" (air-quotes) to take them down again. We're supposed to be equals, you know." Ron seemed far more uncomfortable than Sam was. "I'm sorry, Sam."

"Aren't you lucky. Of all the things I could be, why must I be sunk with the magic nazi analogue underdog race? Can't I be the master race for once?"

"Wait, are you talking about your muggle history again? Hey, you never got to telling me who the bad guy leading the nazis was!"

"Well... It's a long story... You see.. there was this guy..."

...

"YOU MEAN GINDELWALD IS HITLER?!"

* Here is a sample slogan I made in illustrator: HERE .

And here is the original inspiration: HERE. (Poster text: GERMANS! DEFEND YOURSELVES! Do not buy from Jews!)