Chapter 5: Gilderoy Lockhart

The sorting feast was a completely different experience on the other side of the hat. Without the stress of his own sorting distracting him he was much more able to enjoy the evening. He sat amongst his friends and housemates at the Gryffindor table chatting easily with them about the holidays. Dean had been to Spain with his family and had left all his homework until yesterday (Seamus high fived him), Parvati was telling them about the 'Witches Making Waves' convention her Mom had taken her and Padma to which had Hermione asking a hundred and one question, even Neville joined in telling Harry about some of the rare plants he'd been tending in his Gran's greenhouse. All in all Harry was very glad they hadn't missed the feast.

About half an hour after most of the students had arrived Professor McGonagall lead the new first years through the large double doors and a hush fell over the entire hall. The terrified children huddled together staring transfixed at the Deputy Headmistress desperate not to miss any instructions.

"Did we look that tiny and scared?" Harry whispered to George who was sat opposite him.

George scoffed, "you're still that tiny Harry,"

"Shhh," Angelina flapped at them vaguely, "I want to hear the hat."

George rolled his eyes but did as he was bid.

The sorting ceremony began similar to how it had previously but much to Harry's surprise the hat sang a different song. It was still about each of the houses but evidently it had made up a new song for the occasion. He was going to ask about it but decided annoying Angelina was probably not a smart move.

Professor McGonagall proceeded to read out the list of names and each new student dutifully sat, hat over their eyes, before being sent to their new house.

"It's always interesting to see who that hat takes more or less time on," murmured Fred as a blonde girl called Luna Lovegood sat for several minutes with the hat unmoving on her head. Harry suspected they were having quite an interesting conversation but then again he didn't know if the sorting happened similarly with everyone, after all he'd never spoken to anyone about his own experience or heard anyone discuss theirs. Eventually the hat declared Luna a Ravenclaw and she merrily went to join her table. Ginny's sorting was almost instantaneous, there was no way the hat could have had a conversation in that time Harry mused. Belatedly he joined in the enthusiastic welcome from the Gryffindor table ably lead by the four older Weasleys as Ginny, blushing a bright red, joined their house.

"Welcome, welcome, ladies and gentlebeings," Dumbledore rose, robes resplendent and greeted the students. "Before we begin our feast in earnest I have one final introduction to make. Allow me to introduce to you our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Gilderoy Lockhart."

Even before the students had started their polite applause, a man dressed even more spectacularly than Dumbledore stood and strode confidently in front of the Headmaster, he flashed a bright white grin at them all waving of the ripple of applause in a show of false modesty before swishing his cape and flourishing a deep bow to the room. He rose dramatically flipping his blonde hair from his face in a practiced manner and looked as if he was about to make a speech, however Dumbledore at the moment said simply, but loudly,

"Dig in."

In an instant the tables were piled high with every imaginable food and the hall was full of enthusiastic chatter drowning out anything Lockhart may have had to say. Harry watched as Lockhart returned to his seat at the staff table with a casual word and a touch to every teacher he passed, he was seated next to Snape who couldn't prevent his lip curling as Lockhart returned and grabbed his shoulder in greeting. They made quite a contrasting pair, Snape with his greasy dark hair and black robes and cloak, sneering at everybody and Lockhart with his blond waves, elaborately quilted cream waistcoat and matching cape, wearing a cheesy grin. Harry quickly turned his attention to the food as Snape's gaze drifted towards the Gryffindor table; no good would come from drawing Snape's attention any sooner than necessary. Instead he added a little of several dishes to his plate and reveled in the feeling of being home.

The first day back dawned bright and sunny and Harry was feeling optimistic about the year ahead. He, Ron and Hermione went to breakfast together and were greeted by Professor McGonagall with their new timetables. Sitting down to his eggs and bacon Harry glanced through and was pleased to find they had double Herbology with Hufflepuff first, Herbology was always a pleasant lesson and he liked many of his Hufflepuff classmates.

They leisurely strolled across the school grounds, basking in the late summer sun, heading towards the greenhouses where Professor Sprout taught and cared for all sorts of magical plants. They weren't the first to arrive as some of the Puffs were already there so they stood around together making small talk waiting for the rest of their class. Justin Finch-Fletchley enthusiastically tried to explain the game of cricket as Hannah Abbot, Susan Bones and Neville tried to follow along. Harry and Hermione would occasionally try and clarify a few points but as the rest of the class started to arrive it devolved into giggles as Seamus in particular couldn't take the mention of tidy balls, sticky wickets and straight strokes so early in the morning.

Professor Sprout was a fun teacher, always encouraging and jovial, which was why it was so strange to see her storming into the greenhouse in a foul temper snapping at the last few students who arrived moments after her. She stomped across to greenhouse three with the class following timidly in her wake. This was new and exciting, they'd never worked in greenhouse three before, and it was well known that the greenhouse housed much rarer and more dangerous plants.

"Mandrakes," Professor Sprout said shortly, "what do you know about them?" She glanced around at her subdued class, only Hermione dared to raise her hand.

"Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative," Hermione ventured, torn between not wanting to draw the attention of the irate witch, and correctly answering a question. At Professor Sprout's expectant expression she continued "It's used to return people to their original state if they've been cursed or transfigured."

Professor Sprout apparently recognising the effect she was having on her class took a deep breath and smiled genuinely at Hermione. "Excellent, yes, 10 points to Gryffindor." Then turning to the rest of the class, "Mandrakes are used in a wide variety of antidotes, however they are dangerous in their own right, can anyone tell me why?"

Hermione's hand again went up, but this time several others did too.

"Yes Mr Longbottom?"

"The, uh cry of the mandrake can be lethal. If you hear it I mean." Neville tentatively offered.

"Right you are," Professor Sprout's mood was notably improving, "have another 10 points for Gryffindor." She drew their attention to rows of purplish-green grassy fronds in several long troughs. "We are going to be transplanting mandrakes, now these are very young, barely more than seedlings so their cry is nowhere near as potent but it will still knock you out for several hours. So what precautions should we take?" She prompted.

"Muffliato?" suggested Ernie Macmillan.

"It would help," conceded the Professor, but you may still experience some effects.

"Earmuffs," said Hermione confidently having seen the trays of earmuffs laid out on one of the benches.

"Exactly," she agreed, "specifically enchanted earmuffs, these will not allow any external sources of sound through so make sure you have them fully sealed around your ears. Has anyone spotted the problem with this approach?" she continued to prompt them.

There was a lull as they pondered the scenario then Susan solved it "we won't be able to hear what's going on, we won't hear instructions or if there's an emergency it will be difficult to get our attention."

"Precisely, 10 points to Hufflepuff," praised Professor Sprout happily. "So in a moment we will all put on a set of earmuffs.

I SAID IN A MOMENT MR FINNIIGAN, now come and stand by me where I can keep an eye on you.

Now as I was saying, once we are all suitably protected I will demonstrate the repotting process. Then once it is safe to do so I will indicate for you all to remove your earmuffs. It is imperative you all focus closely on me so you know what is going on. OK go get your earmuffs."

There was a mad flurry of activity as they all jostled around the earmuffs trying to avoid the more flamboyant options. Seamus having been kept back by professor Sprout ended up with a very fetching pair of pink fluffy ones much to his classmates' delight. They returned to Professor Sprout who had on her own pair of earmuffs, she diligently checked her students were appropriately protected then when she was sure she had their attention she proceeded to yank forcefully on one of the tufts of grass. They watched in fascination as a grubby, wrinkly, alien shape popped out of the dirt, limb like roots flailing in all direction, craggy face crumpled up and mouth wide open clearly screaming. Harry finally understood what Neville meant when he said the 'cry' of the Mandrake. Professor Sprout brusquely forced the writhing plant into a large pot and pressed fresh, damp, compost up and around it until only the tips of the grass like leaves were showing. Once happy with her work she caught their eyes and indicated to her earmuffs before taking them off, the class followed suit.

"So that's what you'll be doing, four to a tray, keep your earmuffs on until I indicate otherwise. They can be quite stubborn so don't be afraid to get physical with them, they're quite tough you won't damage them. Any questions? Then off you go."

Harry, Ron and Hermione ended up sharing a tray with the cricket playing Justin, with earmuffs on there wasn't really any opportunity for chatting but they wrestled companionably with their unexpectedly tricky Mandrake seedlings. By the end of the class they were quite tired and more than a little muddy but feeling strangely satisfied. Harry always found working with plants enjoyable, even at the Dursleys', the smell of damp earth and green things always soothed him so it was in a particularly good mood that the he headed to Transfiguration with the rest of the Gryffindors.

Transfiguration was not an easy subject, and with the whole summer to forget everything he had previously learnt it was even more difficult. Harry struggled to dredge up half remembered theory and methodology as Professor McGonagall instructed them in how to transfigure a beetle into a button. It was slowly coming back to him but Harry was still relieved to reach the practical part of the lesson which came much more instinctually to him. Hermione, as usual swiftly managed to transfigure her beetle though Harry and Ron also succeeded. Ron was convinced he'd have managed a lot sooner of his beetle hadn't kept running away and avoiding his wand.

The physical work out in Herbology followed by the brain workout in Transfiguration had left them all feeling quite exhausted by lunch and they filed into the hall with the rest of their class. They sat wearily at their table, Harry slowly chewed his sandwich as he checked through his timetable again; Ron was focused entirely on his meal while Hermione absent mindedly picked at her food while re-reading Voyages with a Vampire by Gilderoy Lockhart.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts next," Harry volunteered, Ron grunted in acknowledgement and Hermione nodded as she turned another page. Harry had read the course books and wasn't really sure what to expect with Lockhart, he was curious to see the man in action.

Together the three of them made their way across the courtyard to the DADA classroom and waited outside. Hermione sat herself on the wall and resumed reading while Ron and Harry had a fairly one sided conversation about the Chudley Cannons. Apparently they had a new signing that was going to turn their season around. From what Harry knew of them they need more than one new player to do that, but he wasn't going to burst Ron's bubble knowing how irrational he was about his team.

It was while they were waiting that Harry noticed he was being watched. Out of the corner of his eye he observed a tiny mousey haired boy watching him intently, a new Gryffindor if he remembered correctly though he couldn't for the life of him remember his name. He had a camera and seemed to be working up the courage to approach Harry. Harry turned to look at him directly and the boy blushed bright red before finally deciding to approach.

"CanItakeyourpicture" he muttered quickly in embarrassment.

Harry stared in surprise. "Um, sorry what?" was all the reply he managed.

"I um, wanted to take your picture," he hopped from foot to foot in nervous anticipation. "So I can prove I've met you, to send to my parents I mean." Harry continued to look at him not sure what to say, "They're muggles. Oh and I'm Colin Creevey, I never said. Your Harry Potter, I know. Everyone's told me about you. And You-Know-Who." Colin continued to talk excitedly as he stretched his camera out and tried to take a selfie with Harry. Naturally it was at this moment that Malfoy appeared, 'and I'd been having such a good day', Harry whined to himself.

Malfoy and his henchmen stood directly in front of Colin's outstretched arm and camera, "What, are you giving out signed photos now Potter?" came Malfoys mocking voice.

"No," said Harry vehemently as Colin clicked the camera's button and the flash went off in his face.

"Roll up, roll up," called Malfoy loudly, "come and get your very own Harry Potter photo."

"Sod off Malfoy," said Ron and rose ready to defend Harry.

"You're just jealous" accused Colin, really not helping the situation as a small crowd started to form to see the commotion.

Malfoy sneered and made a lunge towards the camera just as Professor Lockhart appeared next to them.

"What's this I hear? Who's after a photo? My office is always open you know, you only need to ask," Lockhart said generously, flashing his bright white teeth at them in his clearly practiced, photo ready, smile. He spotted Colin's camera, "Come on then Mr Creevey as you're so keen, we've got a moment spare now," and Lockhart grabbed the small boy close to his side grinning broadly at the camera. Colin, with not much choice in the matter, held his camera up and took a picture, then being released from Lockhart's vice like grip he scurried off to his own lesson.

To Harry's great relief the bell rang for the start of the next lesson and the amassed crowd, including Malfoy, headed off. Harry couldn't decide if Professor Lockhart had just ingeniously rescued him from an incredibly awkward situation, or if that was just a lucky side effect of the Professor's ego, regardless he was incredibly thankful. Harry, Ron and Hermione followed Lockhart to their class where they were joined by the rest of the Gryffindors. Once seated and with Malfoy out of the way Ron felt he could laugh freely at Harry's previous discomfort.

"You'd best hope Colin and Ginny don't meet, they'll be starting a Harry Potter fan club" He snickered as Harry went red.

By the end of Lockhart's lesson Harry had firmly made up his mind about the new teacher.

Professor Lockhart was self-absorbed prat who was as incompetent at teaching as he was at dealing with Pixies.

He'd spent the first half of the lesson on a quiz about his personal likes and dislikes as mentioned in the books he'd forced everyone to buy, then the man had released a cage full of worked-up Cornish Pixies into the classroom with no instructions on how to deal with them. To make things worse, while Pixies were indiscriminately trashing everything in sight Lockhart had hid under his desk then bailed at the first ring of the bell. Almost as an afterthought he'd asked Harry, Ron and Hermione to "pop the rest of them back in the cage" as he caught sight of them helping Neville down from the chandelier where the Pixies had dropped him.

The four students dashed out of the classroom, firmly closing and locking the door behind them then stood and looked at each other wild eyed.

"What the hell was that moron thinking?" Ron criticised swiping at a trickle of blood on his hand where a Pixie had bit him.

"Ronald!" exclaimed Hermione.

"Oh come off it Hermione, you can't seriously be defending that man."

"He's still a teacher." she argued stubbornly

"He's a buffoon," stated Ron.

"We should probably get a teacher to round up the Pixies," Harry interjected, "I don't really fancy going back in there" he rubbed at his ear where it had been mercilessly twisted by the manic creatures.

"Me neither," Neville heartily agreed.

Hermione still looked like she wanted to argue but Harry's suggestion made sense, they crossed the hall and knocked on McGonagall's door. As Professor McGonagall opened the door the four of them stood in silence each waiting for another to explain their predicament. She raised an enquiring eyebrow at them looking at each of them in turn.

"Professor," Harry started, not sure exactly what he was going to say, but knowing someone had to say something. He hesitated uncertainly for several moments.

"I assume there's something further you wish to say" she said sarcastically, looking down her nose through her glasses at him before again looking at each of the others.

"Um," he tried again, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly, "Are you any good with Pixies?"

She looked at him bewildered, "I'm not sure I understand your meaning Mr Potter."

"Well there's some Cornish Pixies loose in the Defense classroom and we thought you might be able to help us put them back in their cage." Harry plowed on.

"I see" she said eyes tightening imperceptibly, "Can I ask where your defense teacher is?"

"He uh, had to go," Harry mumbled unconvincingly and McGonagall's nostrils flared.

"Professor Lockhart trusted us to finish putting them away," Hermione jumped in defensively.

"But we thought it would be preferable to have your assistance," Harry added carefully.

McGonagall's eyes glanced over the students before lingering momentarily on Neville's torn robes, Ron's bleeding hand, Hermione's knotted hair and Harry's red ear. "Lead the way," she nodded in acceptance.

They led Professor McGonagall the short distance back to their classroom and stood before the closed door. "They're in there," Ron indicted, "there's probably about 20 of them still loose."

There was a sudden, loud, clattering on the door.

"I suppose they may have released the others as well," Harry added.

"Thank you, I'll deal with it from hear." She told them grimly, "You may go to your next lesson," she dismissed then before adding "and 10 points to Gryffindor for your level-headedness."

Harry wanted to stay and see exactly how McGonagall would deal with the Pixies, and was half resolved to linger, but McGonagall's pointed look followed by the bell ringing persuaded him otherwise and the four Gryffindors headed off to History of Magic.