Title: Lockhart's Woes

Team: Tutshill Tornados

Position: Chaser 1

Reserve: no

Trigger Warnings: Authority Abuse, Potential Violence

Prompt: Write about someone who's beauty is only skin-deep.

Additional Prompts: monster (word), greed (word), and nighttime (setting).

Gilderoy Lockhart left the three remaining Gryffindors to deal with the Cornish pixies he had let loose towards the end of his first Defense Against the Dark Arts second-year class. He had more important matters to deal with than pixies because he had to prepare next week's lesson plans. Plus, Hermione Granger was clever enough to pass his first quiz. Surely she and the famous (although not as famous as himself) Harry Potter and their other red-headed friend could take care of the pixies without his help.

Still, he couldn't help as he thought to himself that maybe he was in a little over his head. Dumbledore hired him for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. Sure it had been an unexpected surprise and an honor to be asked by the one and only Albus Dumbledore to teach at Hogwarts, and he did have all his source material from his books to use as lesson plans. But actually implementing the lessons in class was another story. His peskipiksi pesternomi spell that he could've sworn was the one uttered by that Armenian warlock he interviewed didn't work as planned.

"Guess I could resort to book quizzes and exams for grades this first term…" he sighed to himself quietly as he finally arrived in his office. Portraits of himself along with moving pictures from magazines and news articles lined the walls of his office. His favorite portrait, however, the one that he had right behind his desk, the first one of his witch weekly's most charming smile photographs, began speaking to him.

"Feeling a bit flustered, are we?" said the portrait to Lockhart condescendingly.

"Not at all, my dear fellow!" lied Lockhart, a little annoyance detected in his voice. "I've merely seen that being a celebrity is not all fun and games today. Of course, I already knew that, but hardly anyone among my second-years remembered that my favorite color is lilac!"

"And is that why you were so out of breath when you arrived in the office?" asked the portrait curiously. All the other portraits looked at him with rapt attention. Lockhart couldn't believe how nosy they all were. Of course, sometimes he could be just as nosy.

The real Lockhart checked his office to make sure there were no eavesdroppers outside the door or Extendable Ears. "No, good men. I had to leave the scene of the classroom. Those Cornish pixies were even more dastardly than I remember. I have to rethink the lesson plan for that one."

"Tisk tisk," said the same portrait. "Did you remember the incantation of the warlock from Armenia?"

"Yes," said Lockhart disdainfully. It was as if his memory and the portrait's memory were one and the same. "Well...not exactly. I thought I did. But I...er...he must've said it wrong because it didn't work for me."

"Gildy, Gildy, Gildy…" said the portrait, shaking his head back and forth. "You must've misheard the man. But cheer up! You're so talented! And devilishly handsome, I might add. This is only the beginning of a fabulous academic career! Right?"

Lockhart turned his nose up "Of course it is! It's only my first term. They can't expect me to do everything perfectly in my first term. Besides, I have other matters I'll have to attend to which will be excusable, of course. Fan mail to answer. Q&A sessions to attend…"

There was a knock on the door. Lockhart put a finger to his lips to silence the portraits. They all immediately resumed their normal posture of smiling and posing.

"Come in, come in!" said Lockhart cheerfully, hiding the stress he was feeling at the moment.

A bushy-haired girl with slightly buck teeth came into the room. It was Hermione Granger, who looked sheepish and red in the face.

"Umm, hello professor," said Hermione shyly.

"Miss Granger, was it?" asked Lockhart. He was hoping to Merlin that the pixie issue had been taken care of and that she didn't need his help with that. "How are you this fine Monday?" he asked cheerfully.

"Doing well, thank you," said Hermione. "I-I just wanted to thank you for letting Harry, Ron, and me have some hands-on experience with the pixies towards the end of class today."

Lockhart tried to not look confused. "Of course, of course, m'lady. Only too happy to help." Hesitantly, Lockhart asked, "and did you find success in taming the pixies?"

"Oh yes," said Hermione, beaming. "Used a freezing charm to catch them."

"Excellent, excellent!" said Lockhart, relieved that the pixie problem was taken care of and impressed that a young witch could be so precocious. "You're quite the clever girl! I look forward to an excellent term with you this fall!"

Hermione blushed furiously. "Thank you," she said bashfully. "My friends...Harry and Ron...they don't exactly…er...understand you."

"Is that right?" asked Lockhart with a confident smirk on his face. He was feeling like his old self again.

"I've tried to tell them how great you are," said Hermione. "You know...they don't exactly read much. I've tried to tell them about some of your exploits in your books."

"You have a most noble pursuit, Miss Granger," said Lockhart smiling. "Harry and Ron might...how can I put this delicately...not understand me because they don't want to understand me? Perhaps?"

"What do you mean, sir?" asked Hermione.

"Well as you mentioned, they don't seem as studious as you when it comes to books, and they seem to have pulled a little stunt to try and steal the spotlight...if you know what I mean."

"Steal the spotlight, sir?" asked Hermione.

"Their little stunt with the Flying Ford Anglia?" said Lockhart. "I believe Harry and... Ron, was it? They found a taste of stardom when Harry stepped into Flourish and Blotts and now they've become greedy to seek fame even in the most sensational of manners. Fame can be a fickle friend, Miss Granger. Fame can be a fickle thing," he said, shaking his head back and forth.

"Yes, of course," agreed Hermione.

"You remember that, and you'll go far, m'lady. You have a lot of potential," said Lockhart, smiling back at her. Hermione bit her lip and blushed furiously.

"T-thank you, sir," she said, containing her excitement. "I-I'd better go now. Thanks again for the great lesson."

"Not a problem," he said with a wink and a smile. Hermione dashed off, leaving the new professor alone with his portraits again.

"You can't fool them forever, you know," said the same portrait, apparently trying to continue the conversation from earlier.

"Oh, don't be that way," said Lockhart with a scowl, not even looking at the portrait.

The semester continued on, and Lockhart couldn't help but notice that many of his students looked to be falling asleep in class. Hermione Granger and a few other girls' enthusiasm for each of his classes, however, helped convince him that surely he was teaching well if girls such as Hermione were paying close attention to his lectures. Still, it would've been nice if other students besides just a handful of girls were interested in his lecturing. After all, he was just as fabulous of an orator as he was a wizard and a writer. Surely, the people at Hogwarts would realize that soon enough.

Eventually, the time came in the fall semester for the infamous rivalry Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin, and although Lockhart was a Ravenclaw and not terribly interested in the match, he knew it would be in good taste and publicity if he showed up. While at the match, he actually enjoyed himself despite the rainy weather and struck up a wonderful conversation with Professor Snape about some of the great stunts he had performed on a broom while outrunning a hoard of dragons in Moldova. Snape seemed very interested because his eye was twitching with what must've been excitement as the conversation continued.

However, unbeknownst to everyone, a rogue bludger began seeking after Harry Potter and eventually hit him in the arm. Everyone gasped as Harry was nearly knocked off his broom. Eventually, Harry caught the snitch and the bludger's fury subsided. Lockhart dashed off and immediately made his way through the several Gryffindors who had already been gathering around Harry on the Quidditch pitch.

"Oh no, not you…" said Harry, a pained expression on his face.

"Doesn't know what he's saying," said Lockhart, who wanted to make a good impression with the Boy Who Lived.

Lockhart muttered an incantation, so softly that almost nobody could audibly hear what he said. Then Harry's arm went numb and flabby.

Ron gasped, his eyes wide as he witnessed the scene. "What've you done to him?!" Hermione scowled at Ron's lack of tact.

"Well...I did fix the pain!" said Lockhart with a smirk. "Your bones are no longer broken, Harry! Had I known that that bludger had gone rogue earlier, I could've performed the perfect counter-jinx."

Harry moved his flabby arm around with his good arm.

"There's no bones to be broken!" said Ron angrily.

"Ron!" said Hermione quietly through gritted teeth.

"I'll...just ask you two to escort Mr. Potter to the hospital wing should he need any assistance from Madam Pomfrey," said Lockhart to Harry's two best friends. Ron and Hermione nodded and Lockhart couldn't help but overhear the beginning of their next conversation.

"Are you mad?" said Ron in the distance. "Lockhart didn't know what he was doing. He just waved his wand to try and look smart in front of everyone."

"You don't know that! Anyone can make a mistake!" defended Hermione. Still, she couldn't help but be surprised that Lockhart didn't just fix his arm properly.

Later that night, another knock came from Lockhart's office just as he was about to retire to his quarters for the night. It was Hermione Granger again.

"Hermione! I'm surprised to see you here! It's almost your curfew!" said Lockhart.

"S-sorry professor," said Hermione, blushing again. "I-I'll just go…"

"Nonsense!" said Lockhart, putting on a facade of cheerfulness again. "You came all this way."

"Well...I was... curious which spell you used for Harry's arm earlier today," said Hermione, looking down at the ground. "Just...for studying purposes…"

Lockhart furrowed his brow. "Surely that wasn't the only reason you came to me tonight?"

Hermione blushed again and shut her eyes as if dreading something. "My friends are doofuses…" she murmured.

"What do you mean?" asked Lockhart, confused.

"They...they all think you're a big fraud!" said Hermione, who began to sob. "They think all your books are fakes! How could they think such a thing?! I mean...anyone can make mistakes, right? I mean...I know you tried to fix Harry's arm...And I mean you did...to an extent..." She said this last part rather quickly.

Lockhart sighed. Hermione was surprised to see that he had an irritated look on his face. It made her nervous.

"Madam Pomfrey had to do something else didn't she?" he asked, his voice a little stiff.

"Y-yes…" said Hermione, becoming shy again. "S-she had to give him some Skele-Gro."

Lockhart buried his hands in his face. A sudden rush of anger swept over him as he thought of his magical blunders so far this semester.

"Damn it!" said Lockhart, slamming his fists on his desk. A few of his portraits gasped. Hermione was appalled and frightened to see her hero and crush act like this. "All these teachers think they can show me up and try to one-up me, do they? They don't know the stresses I've had to go through! They have no idea what it's like! The pressures of being famous!"

"But…s-sir?" said Hermione, feeling a need to comfort Lockhart despite her newfound fear. "All of your adventures in your books testify to how great you are! Didn't you mend your own bones back together when you fell off the centaur like you wrote about in chapter fourteen of Magical Me? Surely, you could've fixed Harry's bones that way if you had wanted to."

"Well...books can be...misleading sometimes…" said Lockhart in a moment of weakness.

"But...sir! You wrote them!" said Hermione.

Lockhart didn't say anything. He gazed at the desk in front of him, as if deep in thought. One of his portraits spoke up, unable to contain himself.

"Gildy, Gildy, Gildy…you can't hide forever…" said the portrait, apparently trying to be comforting. This was the wrong thing to say however.

"What?" said Hermione, her face clearly showing confusion and disbelief.

"Oh, shut up!" said Lockhart to the portrait. "I've got enough trouble without you."

"You mean…" said Hermione softly. "You're not...you didn't really do all those things in your books?" she asked with bated breath. Lockhart couldn't see that the portrait behind him was shaking his head to agree with Hermione. Hermione began backing away slowly from his desk, becoming afraid again. Something seemed off.

"I believe...you know too much now...Miss Granger…" said Lockhart, his voice sinister, his look cold and calculated. Hermione's eye twitched as Lockhart raised his wand slowly from his jade-green robes. But before Lockhart could mutter an incantation, Hermione had dashed out of the room, frightened and running at top speed back to Gryffindor tower.

"Damn it!" said Lockhart to himself. "She knows too much. But it would look worse if I chased her down…"

"Gildy, Gildy, Gildy," said his favorite portrait to him, shaking his head.

"You have no sympathy for me, do you?" said Lockhart with a sneer. "You're supposed to be on my side!"

"I am, aren't I? I don't know. I mean, I'm just as greedy as you are. I am you, after all. Just in picture form," said the portrait Lockhart.

"I'll have to obliviate her later," said Lockhart, half-ignoring his portrait. "And any other students who find out from her if she blabs. Damn! It's always harder to obliviate mid-term memories than short-term." he said, as he buried his face into his desk.

"You are a monster, Gildy. you know that?" said the portrait to him.

"Celebrity is as celebrity does," sighed Lockhart. And he retired to his room for the night, unable to sleep as he planned how to fix the conundrum he was now in.