AN: Sorry if I didn't respond to some of your reviews, I've been super busy lately! I'm sure many of you will be happy to read this chapter, because it holds something you've been anticipating for a while now. Also, see if you can guess at some of the minor pairings at the end of this chapter. Thanks to all the awesome readers out there. Oodles of thanks to the followers and favoriters. Bunches and bunches of thanks to reviewers elmoryakhan, Gracfully, TertiusArmada, mudbloodpotter05, Cassandra30, serenityselena, Firenze Fox, Lady Sabine of Macayhill, mrrlyn, Books are air, draconic skysong, shushinking, Majerus, MariusDarkwolf, Narnia and Harry Potter 4 EVER, Tellur, B00kw0rm92, ElementKitsune, Kairan1979, geetac, serialkeller, Wonderbee31, and Parahelion Zenith. We might be able to break 600 soon guys!
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise.
"Isn't he the greatest?" Lavender sighed dreamily.
"He is," Parvati agreed, gazing down at Magical Me.
"Oh, give me a break!" Seamus complained loudly.
Lavender's head whipped around to glare at him. "Excuse me?"
"You're being ridiculous!" He snorted. "There's nothing great about that buffoon! Nothing! Face it, Brown, Lockhart's just a big fake."
"He is not!" Lavender retorted hotly.
"Oh yeah? I'll bet you anything that he is," Seamus challenged.
"Where's the proof?" She snapped.
"Dean and I'll find it," Seamus swore.
Dean's head snapped up. "Whoa, whoa, don't bring me into this!"
"Will you excuse us for a minute?" Seamus asked the girls politely, dragging Dean over to a corner. "Listen," He hissed, getting up close to the taller boy's face. "We can finally make all those girls shut up about bloody Lockhart. You've been moaning on about them for weeks!"
"Yeah, but it's not like there's anything we can do about it." Dean shook his head.
"Yes there is!" Seamus insisted. "We just have to find a way. It has to be something that even Lavender and Parvati can't doubt."
When he saw Dean was still conflicted, he groaned. "Come on. For me?" He begged.
Dean relented. "Alright. But we have to do this right. We need to come up with a plan."
"Oh yeah, of course." Seamus nodded vigorously. "Let's go tell 'em!"
The pair trudged back over to Lavender and Parvati.
"We've got it!" Seamus declared triumphantly.
"Really? What's your master plan, then?" Lavender asked loftily, examining her nails.
Dean faltered. "That…that's classified. Top secret, y'know. We'll get back to you, when we think it's safe."
Parvati and Lavender stared back at him.
"Safe?" Parvati said incredulously. "Why isn't it safe here? Who's gonna tell on us? Neville?"
"Maybe!" Seamus blustered. "Look, we'll just get back with you, okay?"
"Okay," Lavender said calmly. "Parvati and I'll be waiting."
"Hang on, I never agreed to this," Parvati spoke up.
"But you're in, aren't you?" Lavender asked knowingly.
Parvati flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Yeah, I guess," She conceded.
"Then it's settled," Dean prompted, relieved.
"Shake on it?" Seamus suggested.
Lavender nodded and put her hand out daintily.
Seamus carefully spit onto his hand and started reaching for hers. She quickly pulled back.
"Er, we'll just take your word for it, shall we?" She proposed.
The two sides approved, and each felt certain they were about to witness the other being turned into fools.
"Angelina!" Fred called desperately.
The dark girl lengthened her stride, struggling to stay ahead without seeming obvious.
"Angelina, come on!"
She turned around suddenly, startling him to a halt. The two were on the Hogwarts grounds, fresh out of Herbology class. Fred had told Alicia and George that he would catch up with them later, spying an opportunity to finally apologize. The fateful Hogsmeade trip had been a month earlier, and the match against Hufflepuff had gone surprisingly well, considering half of the team was in a row. Angelina had still refused to listen to either twin.
"Which one are you?" She barked at him.
Fred gulped. "Fred," He said truthfully.
Her eyes narrowed. "And what do you want to say to me? Because I'm not about to forgive your brother."
"You don't have to," He blurted out. He cursed. "That came out wrong. What I mean is, you don't have to forgive George, you have to forgive me. I mean, you don't have to forgive me, I was just hoping that you'd stop hating George. Wait, I mean—ugh!" He kicked a nearby rock, stubbing his toe. "Argh!" He hopped up and down in pain.
Angelina felt the corners of her mouth lift up, and stubbornly forced them back down.
"Can I start at the beginning?" He pleaded, toe still throbbing.
"That'd probably be a good idea," She replied, beginning to smile before remembering to frown instead.
"When you saw George, that wasn't George. It was me. In Madam Puddifoot's. I'm the one who put that stuff in Cedric's tea. George didn't know anything about it, I swear." He held up his hands, as though doing so would prove his twin's innocence.
"Why?" She demanded harshly. "I could understand George doing it, because he hates the fact that I'm—that I was going out with Cedric, but why you?"
"Do you even know why George doesn't want you dating Diggory?" Fred asked, dodging the question.
Angelina slowly shook her head.
"'Kay, well, don't tell him I told you this, but it's 'cause he likes you, okay?" Fred shuffled his feet.
"George likes me?" She asked in disbelief.
"Well, yeah. I thought he was making it pretty clear."
"I didn't know!" She claimed.
"Didn't you? Isn't that why you went out with pretty boy Diggory? To make him jealous? If that's what you were planning, it really backfired. All he did was mope around because he thought you didn't like him," Fred snapped, growing irritated as he remembered his original reasoning behind the plan.
"The reason I went out with Cedric is because I didn't think George would ever ask me. I thought that he must not like me, then, if he wouldn't ask me to Hogsmeade."
Fred scoffed. "Yeah right. George practically died when Diggory beat him to it."
Angelina felt her face grow hot at the very thought of George Weasley being her date to Hogsmeade. "All of this doesn't explain why you'd do that to Cedric," She said, trying to get back on track.
Fred cringed. He'd been hoping he wouldn't have to reveal that. "Because I knew he wasn't going to. And it just got sort of annoying having to watch him pine after you all the time. I mean, I got my girl, why shouldn't he get his?"
Angelina cleared her throat. "So you admit it then? You sabotaged my date with Cedric for George?"
Fred nodded, turning away out of embarrassment.
"Fred, wait!"
He wheeled back around, only to double over from pain as a fist connected with his gut. He let out a muffled shriek.
"That's for being a terrible friend and ruining my date," She growled. What she did next took him by surprise. She hugged him tightly around the middle. "And that's for being an amazing brother and helping George." She let go and took a step back, smiling.
Fred nodded again, still in immense pain.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go find a certain ginger." Angelina set off with a spring in her step.
"Angelina, don't take this the wrong way, but I'm pretty sure Percy's already taken," He wheezed.
She threw a very rude hand gesture over her shoulder.
Fred chuckled and rubbed his sore stomach. "That girl sure has a mean left hook," He mused.
Harry Potter lay stretched out on his four-poster bed, contemplating his impending doom. No, not that kind of doom. Rather, the doom that everyone around him seemed to be going through right now. The doom that would be his teen years. Teenagers, Harry had learned, were some of the most frightening beasts in the world. Quidditch practice had been unbearable the past few weeks. Angelina, Alicia, and the twins were wrapped up in a mess. Oliver had fretted over the match with Ravenclaw, despite the fact that Davies wasn't even on the team anymore.
The only person that appeared to still be sane was Katie Bell, but Harry surmised that this was because she was only thirteen, and the infectious moodiness hanging around all teens had not quite reached her yet. Percy had gone into overdrive and was studying for exams more than Hermione ever did, a feat which Harry had previously thought impossible. Even worse, Penelope was the exact same way, which meant that there were technically two Percys at the library, each with a Prefect badge and a ferocious attitude.
Lee Jordan had cheerfully told Harry that this was exactly what he had to look forward to in the years ahead, and that was what had led Harry to make this startling conclusion.
"I'm doomed," He realized, flopping back on his bed.
"But Mister Harry Potter Sir has defeated the bad men," A squeaky voice objected.
"No, not that kind of doom," Harry replied, turning on his side. He froze, rolling over to meet the large, glassy eyes of Dobby the house elf.
"Dobby!" Harry shouted in surprise.
"Hello, Mister Harry Potter Sir!" Dobby greeted cheerily. "Dobby heard the good news!"
"What good news?" Harry asked tiredly.
"That Mister Harry Potter Sir has figured out what Dobby had told him, and he fought off the evil!" Dobby nodded his large head up and down enthusiastically, causing his bat-like ears to flop around.
"Well, actually, I did it with the help of my friends," Harry corrected, determined to set the little elf straight. "That was a while ago, though. Why are you just talking to me now?"
Dobby hung his head, ashamed. "Dobby has tried to visit before, but every time Dobby could get away from Master, Mister Harry Potter Sir was with friends."
Harry frowned. "What do you mean, get away from your master?"
Dobby trembled. "Dobby needs to finish all his chores before Dobby can have a ten minute break. The Master gets very angry if Dobby has not done what Master asks."
"What does Malfoy make you do?" Harry asked curiously.
Dobby quivered in fear.
"Don't worry, Dobby, I won't tell anyone," Harry assured him.
The tiny elf took a deep breath. "Dobby has to wash, dry, and iron the Master's clothes. He has to prepare the Master's food, and do the Master's hair. On some days, when Master is feeling very bad, Dobby must draw Master's bath. Dobby has to always arrive when Master calls. He has to get the Master's paperwork and Dobby has to talk with other elves to set up Master's meetings. If Dobby ever messes up, Dobby is punished."
Harry's frown deepened. He didn't like the sound of that. "How do they punish you?"
"If Dobby burns Master's food, he must shut his hands in the oven. If Dobby misses a wrinkle in Master's clothes, Dobby must iron his fingers. If Dobby is late when Master calls, Dobby has to run through the Manor twice without stopping and without using magic. If Dobby breaks something, Dobby must hit his head against the wall twenty times. If Dobby breaks something important, he must hit his head against the wall fifty times. If Dobby does not punish himself, the Master will punish Dobby."
Harry swallowed. "Why don't you quit?"
Dobby shook his head frantically. "House elves cannot quit. House elves must be freed. Master must give Dobby clothes, and then Dobby can leave."
Harry clenched his jaw. He had to get Dobby away from Malfoy, but how?
Dobby's eyes grew wide. "Master is calling, Dobby must go!" He shouted, terrified.
Harry was left leaning over the side of his bed, gazing blankly at air.
"Where are we going?" Oliver wondered, trailing after Percy.
"You'll see," His friend replied simply.
"Why do I have to wait?"
Percy didn't respond.
Oliver glared at the back of his head.
"Here we are," Percy announced happily, stopping in front of an unused classroom.
"And what are we doing here?" Oliver asked impatiently.
Percy strode into the room, joining Penelope on top of one of the desks.
Oliver wrinkled his nose. Was he just here to watch those two snog?
"Y'know Clearwater, when I said to get a room, I meant one without me in it," Davies quipped.
Oliver's head turned to watch Davies slink out of the shadows.
"Wood," He sneered.
"Davies," Oliver snarled. He angled his body toward the cuddling couple. "Look, I know you're hoping we'll bond or something-"
"As if," Davies interrupted rudely.
"But I'm really not in the mood to hang around this idiot. I'm gonna go," Oliver continued.
Penny flicked her wand at the door, and it swung shut with a thump.
Oliver tugged at the knob futilely. "Alohamora!" He growled. The door refused to budge. Davies tried a few other unlocking charms, but they didn't appear to have any effect. Oliver could just imagine the look on McGonagall's face if he busted down the door.
"We're all going to stay here until you two decide that you've matured enough to let go of your differences," Penelope stated in a voice that clearly implied she thought they were acting like toddlers.
Penny and Percy retreated to a corner of the room to snuggle up close to each other.
Oliver turned away so that he wouldn't feel the overwhelming urge to gag. Davies did the same. Oliver glanced around the classroom and grumbled. Percy had eliminated all seating in the room except for the desk he and Penny were currently sitting on.
That's fine, Oliver told himself. He'd just sit on the floor, propped up against a wall as far away from Davies as he could get. He moved forward, only to hit an invisible barrier. He slammed his fist against it, receiving a slight shock in return. It seemed he and Davies were restricted to a tiny corner of the room.
He and Davies traded looks of mistrust, before Davies settled against the wall and Oliver sat with his back touching the barrier. Every once in a while, he'd feel a small zap, not harmful, just strange. He refused to back down.
Just then, the two heard a small squeal. They turned to see Percy and Penny practically on top of each other, hands roaming.
"Disgusting," Davies commented offhandedly.
"Definitely," Oliver agreed without realizing it.
He stiffened as he realized he was actually talking to his mortal enemy, and fell silent.
This continued on for about an hour, with Penny and Percy making disturbing noises and the two Quidditch captains refusing to make eye contact, until finally it seemed Davies couldn't take it any longer.
"Why do you hate me?" He blurted out.
"Because you hate me," Oliver replied, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Oh," Davies said.
Oliver waited. "Well?"
"Well what?"
"Well, why do you hate me?"
"I don't," Davies admitted. "I just…don't like Gryffindors, s'all."
"Careful there," Oliver warned. "Don't wanna sound like a Slytherin."
Davies grinned in spite of himself. "Yeah, wouldn't want that."
The two were quiet again until Oliver's curiosity got the better of him.
"Why don't you like Gryffindors?"
"Because," Roger struggled to form a complete thought. "Because it seems like you guys get all the attention," He finally settled on.
"What are you talking about?" Oliver asked, confused.
"Last year, when Ravenclaw won the cup, no one cared. No one. Not even the rest of the team thought it was that big of a deal when Gryffindor ended up winning the House Cup. It's just not fair. I worked so hard to get them there, and I actually won the cup my first year as captain, and it was just like none of it mattered anymore. It's just not…winning's just not how I thought it would be, I guess."
Oliver considered this for a moment. "But then why did you do all of that stuff this year?"
Roger exhaled slowly. "Harry's back on your team. Let's face it, you guys are a really good team without him, but you're a great team with him. I knew that if every single player was on the team, we'd lose for sure. And I figured that if I managed to get you off the team as a punishment or something, then your team would fall apart."
"So I did all that stuff. It was really, really stupid, especially since I'm not on the team anymore myself. Flitwick even said that he'd have to think really hard about letting me have the badge back next year. I just really wanted to win. I know I took it too far, and I know I shouldn't have even tried doing that in the first place. And the worst part is, I don't even get to play anymore! It's not really about winning. It's about getting to play the sport I love. And, of course, I realize that way too late."
"I'm sorry, Wood. Sometimes us Ravenclaws get a little too competitive, you know? But you don't have to worry about me ruining anymore games for you. I already did that myself."
Oliver was conflicted. This was, technically, what he'd been wanting this whole time. He'd wanted Davies to come grovel at his feet and beg for forgiveness. But now that it was finally happening, all he felt was sick to his stomach. All he could see was himself, if he hadn't taken a moment to realize what a mad man he was becoming in his haste to win. As cliché as it all sounded, Oliver didn't really want Davies to beg. He just wanted everyone to be able to play, without anyone becoming obsessed over winning and losing.
"Hey, uh, y'know, I could always chip in my opinion to Flitwick. Tell him that I think you deserve that badge back," Oliver offered uncertainly.
"You'd do that?" Roger gaped dumbly.
"Yeah. Just so long as you don't turn into crazy Davies again."
"Yeah. Alright." Roger began nodding, a light entering his eyes.
The two boys stood and shook hands, grinning.
Oliver sensed the barrier fall down and whirled around to find Penny beaming at them, Percy by her side.
"Well, we should probably get back to studying, yeah Penny?" Roger suggested, stretching. "Don't wanna fail exams."
Instantly, Penny and Percy transformed, turning into the stress ridden beasts of the past few weeks.
Oliver smothered his laugh. "I'm gonna go work on my Quidditch drills for a bit. Final match is against Ravenclaw you know."
Roger smiled back at him. "Yeah, I know. Good luck, by the way."
"You too."
Penny gave a little squeal again and attacked the two with hugs. Percy just snickered, until he was pulled into the hug too.
"I don't know if we should really be doing this." Parvati Patil glanced around fearfully. "What if we get caught?"
Seamus, Dean, Neville, Parvati, and Lavender were directly outside of Professor Lockhart's office. Seamus and Dean had gotten sick of hearing all about how wonderful Lockhart was, and the two boys had devised a plan, with the help of a reluctant Neville. It was a rather shaky plan, but it would do.
"We won't," Seamus said confidently. "If there's one thing we're sure of, it's that Lockhart won't be back for a while."
"What did you have him do?" Lavender asked curiously.
"We managed to get his fan club together at the perfect place and at the perfect time. Since he likes to sign autographs so much, he'll have to sign exactly 617 of them, not to mention if any students should find him while he's occupied. It'll take him a while," Dean told them. "Now let's go."
Neville turned the door knob, hands trembling. It swung wide open, inviting the kids in.
"Perfect!" Seamus smiled evilly.
"I still don't know if we should be doing this," Parvati said dubiously.
"Don't worry Parvati. Just think about it this way: either you're proving to us that Lockhart is an honest and just citizen, or we're proving to you that he's a liar and a cheat. Don't think about the methods," Seamus told her.
"It's got to be in here," Dean decided after an hour of searching. He was referring to a large chest found at the bottom of Lockhart's closet. Buried beneath piles and piles of fan mail, the chest was closed tight with an intricate lock that Dean was certain a simple Alohamora wouldn't break through.
Lavender, who was best at Charms, tried it anyway, but the chest stayed closed tight. The small group of second years surrounded the chest, examining the lock.
"Something big has got to be in here. Why else would he go to so much trouble to lock it?" Seamus ran a hand through his sandy hair. The photographs of Lockhart all around the room kept shooting the children suspicious looks.
"I guess we'll have to break it," Dean realized.
"No!" Parvati snapped. "Then he'll know we were in here!"
"He'll know someone was in here, but he won't know who," Seamus corrected. "Neville, you wanna do the honors?"
It actually took four of them (Parvati refused to help with something so 'wrong'), but at last, the chest was opened. Inside were dozens upon dozens of journals, each marked with a title. The kids sifted through them, skimming the pages. Within the first minute, Neville's eyes grew wide as he read a particularly interesting passage in Gadding with Ghouls: Part Two.
"Um, guys?" He whispered. "I'm pretty sure this counts as evidence."