I was a lot closer to finishing this one than I thought and found the time after posting the filler chapter. So... happy double update?


The next day, however, Harry barely grinned once. Breakfast in the Great Hall went perfectly fine, for everyone else. Mail came, a package full of things Neville left behind hit him on the head, and Errol landed in the milk jug Hermione was using to prop up her copy of Voyages with Vampires when he delivered Mr. and Mrs. Wealsey's letter reminding the Weasley boys to look out for their sister, as well as congratulating Ginny.

Harry, however, had to deal with multiple people coming up to her throughout her meal. A few Hufflepuffs came up and silently placed a pamphlet on her lap for mental health assistance; Two Ravenclaws came up to her and asked so many questions all at once, they got bored and left before she was able to comprehend them; The gaggle of Slytherins that came up simply threw wads of paper that, when unfurled, read Prissy Princess Potter; and then there was the mixed bag of Gryffindors with all those results combined.

Harry's mood got worse when her schedule revealed her brakes would be replaced by evaluations with Madam Pomfrey and Snape. She didn't realize "regular evaluations on the effects of the potions" meant so many so soon.

She didn't get much time to dwell on it, however, because she realized they'd be late to double Herbology with the Hufflepuffs if they didn't leave now.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione left the castle together, crossed the vegetable patch, and made for the greenhouses, where the magical plants were kept.

As they neared the greenhouses they were relieved to see that they couldn't be late if the teacher was later. Professor Sprout wasn't there yet. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had only just joined them when Professor Sprout came striding into view across the lawn, accompanied by Gilderoy Lockhart. Professor Sprout's arms were full of bandages, and an annoyed glare sat firmly on her face.

Professor Sprout was a squat little witch who wore a patched hat over her flyaway hair; there was usually a large amount of earth on her clothes and her fingernails would have made Aunt Petunia faint. Gilderoy Lockhart, however, was immaculate in sweeping robes of turquoise, his golden hair shining in the morning sun.

"Oh, hello there!" he called, beaming around at the assembled students. "Just been trying to convince Professor Sprout that the Whomping Willow is certainly not as healthy as it should be! But I don't want you running away with the idea that I'm better at Herbology than she is! I just happen to have met several of these exotic plants on my travels that were much more vibrant . . ." he trailed off as he realized most weren't listening to him.

"Greenhouse three today, chaps!" said Professor Sprout, clearly trying her best to snap at Gilderoy Lockhart, and not her usual cheerful self.

There was a murmur of interest. They had only ever worked in greenhouse one before -- greenhouse three housed far more interesting and dangerous plants. Professor Sprout took a large key from her belt and unlocked the door. Harry caught a whiff of damp earth and fertilizer mingling with the heavy perfume of some giant, umbrella-sized flowers from the ceiling. She was about to follow Ron and Hermione inside when Lockhart's hand shot out.

"Harry! I've been wanting a word -- you don't mind if Potter's a couple of minutes late, do you, Professor Sprout?"

Judging by Professor Sprout's scowl, she did mind, but Lockhart said, "That's the ticket," and closed the greenhouse door in her face.

"Harry," said Lockhart, his large white teeth gleaming in the sunlight as he shook his head. "Harry, Harry, Harry."

Completely nonplussed, Harry said nothing.

"When I heard -- well, I couldn't leave you out on your own. That'd be horrible of me."

Harry had no idea what he was talking about. She was about to say so when Lockhart went on, "Don't know when I've been more shocked. Claiming to be a girl! Well, of course, I knew at once why you'd done it. Stood out a mile. Harry, Harry, Harry."

It was remarkable how he could show every one of those brilliant teeth when he wasn't talking. Especially since what he was saying made no sense.

"You were looking for publicity, weren't you?" said Lockhart. "Heard I was going to be teaching here and didn't want to leave the spotlight."

"Oh, no, Professor, see --"

"Harry, Harry, Harry," said Lockhart, reaching out and grasping her shoulder. "I understand. Natural to want it when you had it for so long -- and I understand you must blame me for taking it from you -- but see here, young man, you can't do stuff like this to try and get yourself noticed. Just calm down alright? Plenty of time for all that when you're older. Yes, yes, I know what you're thinking! 'It's all right for him, he's an internationally famous wizard already!' But when I was twelve, I was just as much of a nobody as you are now. In fact, I'd say even more of a nobody! I mean, a few people have heard of you haven't they? All that business with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!" He glanced at the lightning scar on Harry's forehead. She wished she hadn't put her hair up for Herbology. "I know, I know -- it's not quite as good as winning Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award five times in a row, as I have -- but it's a start, Harry, it's a start."

He gave Harry a hearty wink and strode off. Harry stood stunned for a few seconds, then, remembering she was supposed to be in the greenhouse, she opened the door and slid inside.

Professor Sprout was standing behind a trestle bench in the center of the greenhouse. About twenty pairs of different-colored earmuffs were lying on the bench. When Harry had taken her place between Ron and Hermione, Professor Sprout began her instructions. Harry couldn't hear her over the things she was calling Lockhart in her head.

"Harry, focus," Hermione said, nudging Harry after answering one of Professor Sprout's questions. "This is important."

"Sorry," Harry mumbled. She followed everyone's lead and took a pair of fluffy, pink earmuffs.

She wasn't completely shaken out of her thoughts until Professor Sprout pulled what looked like a small rooty child with leaves coming out of its head. She could almost hear its cry through her earmuffs. It made her a bit woozy.

Professor Sprout proceeded to put it into another pot and shoveled dirt on top until it was just the leaves poking out. Professor Sprout gave everyone a thumbs up and removed her earmuffs.

"As our Mandrakes are only seedlings, their cries won't kill yet," she said calmly, as though she'd just done nothing more exciting than water a begonia. "However, they will knock you out for several hours, and as I'm sure none of you want to miss your first day back, make sure your earmuffs are securely in place while you work. I will attract your attention when it is time to pack up."

"Four to a tray -- there is a large supply of pots here -- compost in the sacks over there -- and be careful of the Venomous Tentacula, it's teething."

She gave a sharp slap to a spiky, dark red plant as she spoke, making it draw in the long feelers that had been inching sneakily over her shoulder.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were joined at their tray by a curly-haired Hufflepuff boy Harry knew by sight but had never spoken to.

"Justin Finch-Fletchley," he said brightly, shaking Harry by the hand. "Know who you are, of course, the famous Harry Potter. . . . And you're Hermione Granger -- always top in everything" (Hermione beamed as she had her hand shaken too) "-- and Ron Weasley, you really beat McGonagall at wizard's chess?"

Ron couldn't help but smile as his greatest achievement yet was brought up.

"That Lockhart's something, isn't he?" said Justin happily as they began filling their plant pots with dragon dung compost (thank goodness for their dragon hide gloves). "Awfully brave chap. Have you read his books? I'd have died of fear if I'd been cornered in a telephone booth by a werewolf, but he stayed cool and -- zap -- just fantastic."

"I can't say I like him," Harry said with a scowl, interrupting Justin as he was about to continue. "He seems too obsessed with fame, and himself."

"Something happen when he held you before class?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, actually," Harry snapped. "He apparently thinks I'm just saying I'm trans for attention."

Ron, Hermione, and Justin all gasped.

"He what!?" Hermione said, aghast.

"I knew he was a git!" Ron shouted.

"Wait, I thought you just lost a bet," Justin said. "That's what everyone's been saying in Hufflepuff after your reaction to the pamphlets.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione shared a look, then burst into laughter.

"I wish that were the case," Harry said. "It'd be so much simpler."

"The Boy-Who-Lived is a girl!" Justin said. "My housemates are gonna flip!"

They didn't have much chance to talk after that. Their earmuffs were back on and they needed to concentrate on the Mandrakes. Professor Sprout had made it look effortless, but it wasn't. The Mandrakes didn't like coming out of the earth but didn't seem to want to go back into it either. They squirmed, kicked, flailed their sharp little fists, and gnashed their teeth; Harry spent ten whole minutes trying to squash a particularly fat one into a pot.

By the end of the class, Harry, like everyone else, was sweaty, aching, and covered in earth. Everyone traipsed back to the castle for a quick wash and then the Gryffindors hurried off to Transfiguration.

Professor McGonagall's classes were always hard work, but today was especially difficult. Everything Harry had learned last year seemed to have leaked out of her head during the summer. She wanted to blame the Dursleys for that, but she had plenty of time to review at the Burrow.

She was supposed to be turning a beetle into a button, but all she managed was to give her beetle a little plastic shine and exercise as it scuttled over the desktop avoiding her wand.

Ron was having worse struggles. For some reason, his wand seemed to be actively fighting him and spitting out clouds of smoke every time he tried to transfigure his beetle. Unable to see what he was doing, Ron accidentally squashed his beetle with his elbow and had to ask for a new one. Professor McGonagall wasn't pleased.

"An inherited wand clearly isn't the best for you Weasley," she told him. "I am worried about your education if you cannot get it to work for you, or replace it."

Harry was relieved to hear the lunch bell. Her brain felt like a wrung sponge. Everyone filed out of the classroom except her, Ron, and Hermione.

"Stupid -- useless -- thing!" Ron shouted, hitting his wand on the desk.

"Write home for another one," Hermione suggested as the wand let off a volley of bangs like a firecracker.

"I'd get a howler for sure!" Ron said, oblivious to the girls' confusion. "This was my uncle's wand!"

"I thought wands chose their wielder?" Harry said as they made their way to the Great Hall.

"Well, most of the time, I guess," Ron said. "It's just a little bit harder, usually, when it doesn't." Ron hit his wand again as they reached their destination. "I just have to get this one to listen."

"What've we got this afternoon?" Harry asked.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione at once.

"Why," demanded Ron, seizing her schedule, "have you outlined all Lockhart's lessons in little hearts?"

Hermione snatched the schedule back, blushing furiously.

"At the time, I hadn't realized he was a pompous brat."

Harry left her two friends as they went to lunch. She on the other hand rushed to the Medical Wing for her first evaluation.

She entered the laboratory at the back of the Medical Wing to find Jex and Flix already there.

"Ah, Miss Potter, thank you for coming," Madam Pomfrey said.

"It wasn't mandatory to come?" Harry asked.

"It was," Snape said from where he was sitting in the corner. Harry hadn't even realized he was there. "Poppy is just too polite for her own good."

Harry, now confused about Snape and Madam Pomfrey's relationship, filled out a form Madam Pomfrey gave her. At times it felt invasive, but she'd already agreed to fill it out. She didn't really feel any different yet.

She was glad they also provided sandwiches because she was not going to be making it to lunch in the Great Hall. She didn't even get to talk with Jex and Flix because any time they tried to, Snape would snap at them to focus, specifically glaring at her. They couldn't even talk after because she'd be late for her next class.

She almost was late, the bell rang just as she walked through the door. She quickly joined Ron and Hermione sitting at the back of the classroom.

They laughed lightly as she sat down.

"Can I ask what's so funny?" Harry asked, already annoyed as Lockhart started talking about himself.

"Nothing," Ron said with a laugh. "Just you're secret admirer was asking about you."

"Secret admirer?" Harry asked.

"Colin Creeve wanted a photo of you," Hermione added. "I think he might have even had a crush on you."

"What!?" Harry shouted, drawing the attention of the class.

"Yes, Potter," Lockhart said. "I was just as surprised when I earned it the fifth time too, but I thought I mentioned it to you just earlier today."

Harry blushed and began hiding herself behind a wall of Lockhart's books. Lockhart handed out a test with every question about him. Lucky for Harry and Ron, Hermione knew everything about Lockhart, but now hated him, and let them cheat off her.

They were just as surprised.

When they all received praise, and ten points each, everyone but Lockhart knew they cheated, but let it slide.

"Now -- to business," Lockhart said, as he ducked beneath his desk. He then placed a large covered cage on top of it.

"Be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you while I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm."

Despite herself, Harry leaned around her pile of books for a better look at the cage. Lockhart placed a hand on the cover. Dean and Seamus finally stopped laughing to themself at jokes they were making. Neville was cowering in his front-row seat.

"I must ask you not to scream," said Lockhart in a low voice. "It might provoke them." He said the last part as he tore the cover away dramatically.

The whole class was silent.

"Yes," he said dramatically. "Freshly caught Cornish pixies."

The whole class laughed, Dean and Seamus the loudest, Dean even going so far as to bang on the desk.

"Yes?' He smiled at the class.

"Well, they're not -- they're not very -- dangerous, are they?" Seamus choked between laughs.

"Don't be so sure!" said Lockhart, waggling a finger annoyingly at Seamus. "Devilish, tricky, little blighters they can be!"

The pixies were electric blue and about eight inches tall, with pointed faces and voices so shrill it was like listening to a lot of budgies arguing. The moment the cover had been removed, they had started jabbering and rocketing around, rattling the bars and making bizarre faces at the people nearest them.

"Right, then," Lockhart said loudly. "Let's see what you make of them!" And he opened the cage.

It was pandemonium. The pixies shot in every direction like rockets. Two of them seized Neville by the ears and lifted him into the air. Several shot straight through the window, shattering the glass. The rest proceeded to wreck the classroom more effectively than a rampaging rhino. They grabbed ink bottles and sprayed the class with them, shredded books and papers, tore pictures from the walls (all of cowering Lockharts), upended the wastebasket, grabbed bags and books, and threw them out of the smashed window; within minutes, half the class was sheltering under desks and Neville was swinging from the iron chandelier in the ceiling.

"Come on now -- round them up, round them up, they're only pixies," Lockhart shouted.

He rolled up his sleeves, brandished his wand, and bellowed, "Peskipiski Pesternomi!"

It had absolutely no effect; one of the pixies seized his wand and threw it out the window, too. Lockhart gulped and dived under his own desk.

The bell rang and the was a mad rush toward the exit. In the relative calm that followed, Lockhart straightened up, caught sight of Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who were almost at the door, and said, "Well, I'll ask you three to just nip the rest of them back into their cage." He swept past them and shut the door quickly behind him.

"Can you believe him?" roared Ron as one of the remaining pixies bit him painfully on the ear.

"He didn't even know how to get them back in the cage!" Hermione shouted as she hit a few pixies with the body-binding curse. "How did he ever do all that stuff in the books!?"

"He probably didn't," Harry said angrily.

The three of them left, angry at Lockhart.

"Why is it always me?" Neville asked, still dangling from the chandelier, just before it came crashing down. He was luckily mostly unhurt.