That next day at breakfast, Lockhart was watching Meg strangely. She just didn't seem to be herself this morning. Lockhart shoved some oatmeal into his mouth and looked at her closely. She was…no way, it just could not be. She was sitting next to Snape! And, speaking of, Snape wasn't wearing his usual black robes today. Today he was wearing…red and gold? The colors of his rival House! Lockhart spit out his oatmeal and accidentally splattered it all over McGonagall in his surprise.

"Gilderoy, please try to control where your food goes," said McGonagall strictly. "I know you're excited for the Yule Ball tomorrow, but, please try to contain your enthusiasm."

"Sorry, Minerva," said Lockhart. "Won't happen again."

Lockhart looked over at the other side of the table that had Snape and Meg sitting at it, as close as two people could be without being actually squished. Meg was actually snuggling Snape, and there was no doubting on Lockhart's part that if Meg had been any other woman, Snape would have just blasted her off, but he seemed to be enjoying it. Lockhart was amazed at himself to find that he was so confused that his brain didn't have very much room for jealousy. How did Snape do that? Lockhart made up his mind to ask him before the school day was over.

Meg wasn't even herself at Defense class. Lockhart had to just tell them about how many extraordinary things he had done before he came to teach his class, while Meg just stared dreamily out of the window, her thoughts obviously on nothing but Severus Snape.

Finally, at lunchtime, Lockhart saw Snape and Megarrive early. They sat down at the bench where the teachers sat. Lockhart plopped himself down next to Snape. Just then, he felt something brush against his legs. He looked down, and saw that it was Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat. He moved away so she'd just leave him alone. Nobody wanted a cat tattling on them to Filch, not even Lockhart.

Lockhart had to bore his students with more "adventures," because Meg wouldn't help. She seemed like she wasn't aware of where she was; just kept staring out the window and sighing romantically, which was grossing out Lockhart. She was usually just so down-to-earth…

When school got out for the day, Lockhart went into Snape's office. Snape was grading papers, shaking his head, and trying to take a lot of points from Gryffindor. He looked up as Lockhart slammed the door behind him and sat down in a chair, but he certainly wasn't very angry.

"Snape, I saw you with Meg this morning," said Lockhart. "What I want to know is, how did you make her like you so fast? I can't even get her to look at me, you know?"

"Lockhart, I don't know what you're talking about," lied Snape. "I didn't do anything to make her like me, you know. I think she just came to her senses and loved me as much as I love her. Oh…and if you were wondering, she said red and gold looks good with my hair, don't you think?"

Lockhart stared at Snape, his mouth open in amazement. Snape, who usually wore all black and didn't care about his hair, was now asking if red and gold looked good on him.

"Umm, yeah, it looks great," said Lockhart fearfully. "I just want to know, then, what you were acting like yesterday. What did you say to her? When did she start loving you?"

Snape abruptly stood up from his desk and walked over to Lockhart, gripping his robes. "That is for me to know and you never to find out, Lockhart. If you ever burst in on me again like that, you'll never be able to look out of those chipmunky eyes of yours ever again. Got it?"

"Got it," said Lockhart in the biggest voice he could muster, which wasn't very big.

"Good," said Snape. "If you want to find out how to make somebody other than Meg like you, go and talk to some prat who can actually tolerate your stupidity."

Lockhart left the room with his mood even more downcast than it had been before. Maybe Snape didn't want me to steal Margaret from him just when he's got her, he thought. I wouldn't want that, either, but I wouldn't have used whatever it is he has and I don't on Margaret. I would have found another person, like Trelawney, and used it on them or something, probably.

Lockhart looked at all the portraits, telling him to slow down and watch where he was going. His thoughts kept coming quicker than he could decipher what they meant. I mean, Snape's won Margaret fair and square, and I haven't. I shouldn't even try to get her to like me.

He raced down the corridors, not knowing at all where he was going.