What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?

by Spectra16

What would the characters of Harry Potter do for a Klondike bar? Hermione, Quirrel, Snape, Lucius, Hagrid, Ron, Trelawney, pretty much everyone is in here. And finally featuring . . . HARRY! Now taking ideas for Dumbledore!

16. Lockhart

The Shortest Short Stories Ever: What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?

By Spectra16

A/N: GASP! Need. . . . More . . . Inspiration . . .GASP! Death.

Disclaimer: I appreciate you all reviewing my story. I'm willing to make a giant homage to you all (without spending money, I'm saving up for a catapult). I mean, I own quite a few things that would do well as homage. For instance, low cut cowboy boots, a Sonic, Vash, and GIR plush toys, A Snape action figure with one hand and no feet (result of my friend's dog needing bewitching), the Artemis Fowl series, a Splinter Cell Chaos Theory band (I'd rather keep this), an insane amount of oyster crackers, and a dusty N64.

Also, I will be adding my OC in this chapter, for no reason.

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Chapter Sixteen: What Would Lockhart Do For A Klondike Bar? (dear God . . .)

As the second year Dark Arts class began, Ron and Harry watched Hermione act attentive and haughty as usual. Ron shook his head, disgusted.

"How can she fancy a man as fairy-like as Lockhart?" Ron felt like spewing. Harry also swallowed hard.

"Now everyone, take out your "How To Properly Care for Dark Creatures Uglier Than The Author of This Book" by me. Hurry," Lockhart seemed to not be acting quite as annoying as usual. There was a strange adhesive medical strip on his cheek. The rest of the students noticed this. It appeared that all of the pictures of himself had been taken off the walls and were now were out of sight. Draco, being the unintelligent, git that he is, raised his hand promptly.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?" Professor Lockhart asked inquisitively.

"Why aren't you acting like you have an ego the size of Jupiter?" Draco asked, hoping to stir something up. Lockhart sighed.

"I was promised a Klondike bar," Lockhart's voice quivered. "And . . . I have a pimple!" he started crying and ran out of the room. Everyone quirked an eyebrow.

Caspian, the teacher's assistant, stood up as if this kind of thing happened everyday. She was a vivacious Gryffindor, and she rose her hands up in the air.

"I am the substitute for this class. Today, I will be teaching you how to freestyle!" She announced, and pulled out a Muggle boom box, that she had bewitched to work without electricity. Some strange song played.

"What the bloody hell does 'super fly' mean?" Asked Ron. Harry shrugged.