Title:
The Gospel, according to Gilderoy Lockhart. Or, The Hogwarts
Gazette
Chapter: Three: The Start of Term
Rating:
M
Synopsis: Prequel to 'The Meaning of Life at Hogwarts
(or The Hogwarts School Band)': This takes place during Harry's
second year at Hogwarts, during the time of Gilderoy Lockhart. To
assist his already over-inflated ego Lockhart suggests that the
students put together their own paper – 'The Hogwarts Gazette'.
Unfortunately, Severus Snape ends up on the wrong end of Hermione
Granger's pen.
Original Character(s): Alistor Daker, a
sadistic coffee-pot and a paper loving caterpillar
Legal:
All the characters (besides those mentioned in the above) are the
creation of the wonderful JK Rowling, this story has been written
because I was bored and had nothing more exciting to do. This isn't
for profit.
Authors Note: I've just entered a
competition to write a short story (250 words max.) using as many ff
words as possible. I'm beginning to wish when I moved out I made
sure I brought my Harry Potter books with me…curse having a younger
brother! The word of the day is zucchetto and the album of the week
is The Best Wombles Album…So Far
The coffee pot gurgled menacingly. It was Monday morning. No one quite understood how the pot knew that it was Monday morning, but since magic was a bugger no one really asked. The pot had been at Hogwarts since the late 1950s and had no desire to leave any time soon, anyone who defied this wish was prone to developing a nervous twitch when passing coffee of any description. Thankfully, the coffee pot didn't know that this was a very special Monday; it was the day of the Start of Term Feast.
Professor Snape lit a cigarette and stared out of the staff room window. He hated Monday's, and generally not for the reason the coffee pot did. "Filthy habit." A nearby painting muttered.
"Piss off." Snape replied. Another thing he hated was judgemental paintings (and goldfish, but that's another story).
"Talking to yourself, eh?" A sickeningly cheery voice said behind him. Snape groaned; perhaps the something he hated more than Monday's, goldfish and judgemental paintings had just bounced into the room. "It's rather exciting this teaching stuff, I've spent all night getting my classroom ready for my first lot of students tomorrow morning. Oh, I can't wait to start brightening up their days. I can see it now, at the end of the day they see my lesson is next on the time table and instantly, boom life is good again."
Snape stared at Lockhart and decided not to warn him about the coffee pot. He turned back to the window, he took another drag on his cigarette and grinned as he heard Lockhart cry out in surprise (or perhaps pain).
"'orning." Professor Flitwick yawned. "How's the coffee?"
"Sadistic."
"Really? Oh." He looked down, "why is Gilderoy lying on the floor?"
"He introduced himself to the coffee." He replied, flicking the butt of his cigarette out of the window.
"I see." Flitwick stepped over the figure of Lockhart. "Would you care for a cup of tea?"
"I'd love one."
"What should we do about…" He gave Lockhart a tap with his foot.
"Oh, he'll be fine."
"Looking forward to the new term?"
"Oh yes." Snape replied. "So, this young gentleman of yours…"
Flitwick turned red, "not in front of the coffee!"
Several more people had entered the room during the exchange, each one stepping over the unconscious figure of Lockhart without as much saying a word. Coffee related injuries were a common occurrence.
Ten or so minutes later Lockhart had recovered and was now recounting the story of how he had saved Severus Snape's life from a rabid coffee pot that was clearly intent on world domination and the slavery of man kind. Which wasn't half far from the truth (at least in regards to the coffee pot's life goals).
Professor Sprout was currently talking softly to a potted plant that emitted a foul smell whenever anyone approached her. No one was really paying much attention to the Herbology professor; they were used to her various plants that ended up as guests in the staff room.
"Severus, did you read in the latest issue of Herbology Monthly about the new research that was being done regarding the use of Mandrakes in sleeping potions?"
"Yes, although personally I would never used Mandrakes as a key ingredient in anything to do with sleeping. They are far too unstable."
"I myself find the Mandrake a most fascinating plant." Lockhart interjected, "for example during one of my past adventures I have been able to make ample use of their restorative properties."
"Do you relate every discussion to things you have done in the past?" Snape muttered irritably. He went back to his crossword only to find a small caterpillar enjoying the down clues. "Hey!" The caterpillar eyed him suspiciously.
Professor Albus Dumbledore potted around his office. He had one of those strange feelings that this year was going to be almost as eventful as the year before. Appointing Gilderoy Lockhart was starting to seem like not the best decision he could have made. Perhaps he should start considering Severus for the position. He absently fiddled with one of the various shiny objects that littered his office. His pot plant whined. It wanted watering; he sighed wishing that he had never allowed Filius to try out his Pot-Plant-Watering-Alert Charm on his plant.
"Have you seen this?" Professor McGonagall handed the Daily Prophet over to Professor Sinistra.
"'Flying Car Spotted', oh dear. Someone's going to be in trouble with the Ministry when they catch up to them!" She handed it back, and went back to her textbook…discovering a caterpillar eating the corner. "What the---!" She picked it up; it glared at her.
The driver of the Hogwarts Express checked his location, approximately three hours from Hogwarts. He sighed and dispatched an owl.
Lockhart pranced around his office adjusting the various portraits. Oh he was so looking forward to this year; he had always felt that there was something more to him than his writing and adventures. The urge to teach had called to him and here he now was, organising his office, planning lessons. Oh the enjoyment!
The Start of Term Feast was the highlight of the year for most people. It was when the best food was served and the Sorting took place. It gave everyone a chance to catch up with people they hadn't seen all summer. Due to his 'popularity' no one had failed to notice that Harry Potter had not been on the train this year; this only fuelled rumours that something was going on.
"Where's Ron?" Lee Jordan asked Fred (or possibly George).
"No idea, mate. We were all at the station, and then he wasn't on the train." Fred replied. "Mum's going to go mad when she finds out that he didn't show up."
"What about Harry?"
"Same. No idea."
Professor McGonagall took the sorting hat off the stage into the antechamber where the hat would rest before being took back to Dumbledore's office. She was concerned about Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, it was very unusual for students not to turn up at the school, and rumour had it that they weren't on the school train. She had sent an owl to the stationmaster. Still, the show must go on. She returned to the staff table and resumed her seat between Professors Dumbledore and Snape (who seemed somewhat uncomfortable).
Gilderoy Lockhart was being his usual flamboyant self, sat between Madame Hooch and Professor Sinistra. From the expression on Sinistra's face it looked like Lockhart was recounting his defeat of the Wagga-Wagga werewolf for the seven thousandth time that evening. She caught McGonagall's eye and mouthed 'help me' at her. All she could do was smile sympathetically at her. Madame Hooch seemed somewhat enraptured by Lockhart's tale and was laughing loudly at his terrible jokes.
"Oh you're so brave." She heard Hooch giggle.
McGonagall took a sip from her glass of wine and glanced down at her list of new Gryffindor's. She looked over Severus' shoulder to read the list he was casually doodling on. She took the list off him.
"Why do you always draw a picture of a hedgehog jumping into a load of balloons?" She asked.
"Because l have to be careful what I say around the new Slytherin's otherwise a lot of hot air is generated. A bit like a hedgehog jumping into a pile of balloons."
"Oh."
Snape smiled, "however in reality...I can only draw hedgehogs and balloons."
She laughed, "I see."
He leaned behind her to speak to Dumbledore. "Headmaster, could I be excused?"
Dumbledore thought for a moment, "ideally I'd rather you didn't, but if you can't wait until the end of the feast, then by all means."
"Thank you." He got up and was suddenly aware of practically everyone within the room staring at him. He took a deep breath and strode down the centre of the room towards the door and slipped out into the quiet entrance of Hogwarts.
He shivered slightly and climbed the stairs to the first floor landing. Peeves hovered nearby; "don't you even think about it." He snapped. Peeves immediately stopped what he was doing. It was a myth that only the Bloody Baron could control Peeves, Professor Snape could too.
Snape glanced up at the window and back as he was in the bathroom. He quickly looked back at the window; he surely couldn't have seen what he had just seen. A flying car! He shook his head, he had obviously drunk more than he had thought and the wine wasn't just going through is plumbing. He looked back; no it was still there and heading towards the Whomping Willow. He finished up and washed his hands.
A flying car, he mused, switching off the tap. Wait…a flying car…Potter and Weasley hadn't arrived on the school train. He had to admit it sounded a little far-fetched even for attention seeking Potter, but you never did know.
He headed out of the bathroom, down the stairs, across the entrance hall and through the main doors into the cold evening. For the second time, he shivered but this time he wished that he had brought a coat.
He glanced around, and set off in the direction of the Whomping Willow.
Dumbledore looked at his watch. "Severus has been an awful long time."
"He's probably got stomach ache again." McGonagall reached over for the potatoes. Professor Sinistra had taken advantage of Snape's absence and moved up several seats to get away from Lockhart.
"I'm going to kill him." She muttered.
"I think Severus has already claimed that privilege."
Sinistra shrugged, "we can draw lots. Have Potter and Weasley turned up yet?"
"No. I owled the stationmaster at King's Cross and said that he can't recall them getting on the train. To tell you the truth I'm starting to worry, Percy insists that they were dropped at the station."
The Whomping Willow was thrashing aggressively, but there was no sign of the car. Perhaps he had imagined it. He turned to walk back to the school, not before he remembered the article he had read earlier in the Daily Prophet about a flying car sighted over London. He smiled grimly, if that was the case then Weasley and Potter had flown a car to Hogwarts and been seen by Muggles. Underage wizardry if it at least didn't warrant removing points then it certainly allowed for expulsion.
As he neared the main doors he could make out two figures standing on tiptoes by the window. Ah, Potter and Weasley, he smiled softly and made for their location.
"Or maybe he's been sacked…" Weasley was saying. Snape had no doubt whom they meant.
"Or maybe he's waiting to hear why you two didn't arrive on the school train."
They turned horrified. Harry swallowed, this surely meant they were both doomed; it was one thing to fly a car to Hogwarts but it was another thing to be greeted by your least favourite teacher.
"Professor…" Ron stammered.
"We can explain…" Harry started.
"Follow me."
They followed Snape into the entrance hall and down into his equally cold office.
Ron stared at the various things in glass jars around Snape's office. He really didn't want to know what Snape kept in those jars nor why he kept them. Instead he focused on the extremely full bookcase in the corner of the room. The majority of the books seemed to be about potions, some of them he guessed must be about the Dark Arts, what did surprise him was the amount of Muggle fiction books. Ron knew very little about Muggle fiction, only what his dad brought home from the Ministry whenever any of his Muggle-born friends loaned him fiction; he knew some of the stories though, particularly the 'The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes', his dad was pretty much addicted to them.
"We're done for." He finally said to Harry. Snape had left them to no doubt get Professor Dumbledore. "Mum will never forgive me." Harry said nothing, he was too afraid of having to explain all this to the Dursleys. "What do you reckon he keeps in those jars?"
"What?" Harry asked looking at his friend.
"You've not said a word since Snape left us here."
"I'm thinking."
"Do you reckon Dumbledore'll expel us?"
"No, he'll understand why." Harry hoped that this was true.
"How do you think Snape knew we were outside? He can't have seen us from the window, we'd have seen him coming out of the main doors."
"Maybe he saw the car from a window or something and just put two and two together."
The door opened and Professors McGonagall, Dumbledore and Snape entered.
The next morning the castle was still talking about Harry's arrival. The Slytherin's were outraged, saying (quite logically) that if any of them had flown a car to Hogwarts and been seen by Muggles then they would have been expelled immediately.
On the plus side to arriving late, they had managed to avoid Lockhart's introduction to the school. A lot of bowing had been involved.
Professor Sprout checked in her plant guide on the various ways you can repair a damaged Whomping Willow. She had opted for bandages since the Willow was likely to be far too pissed off for any other assistance; she was also on the look out for Professor Snape. He was often quite handy to have around when fixing dangerous plants, not just for his potions skills but he was very handy with a wand.
"Good morning!" Lockhart was his usual cheery self. His robes were puce, giving him the impression of a bizarre stick of rhubarb. He looked over Sprout's shoulder at the book, "I always find my own plant guide is a lot clearer than this outdated book."
"I helped write the revised edition." Sprout replied.
"Really? Well, I'm sure it's a marvellous book." He poured himself a cup of tea (having learnt to keep well away from the coffee). "Would you care for some assistance? I've met a few Whomping Willow's in my travels."
"Really." She wasn't interested.
"Yes. In fact, you could call me somewhat of an expert." He looked at his watch. "I'll tell you what, I haven't got a lesson until after break, so I'll pop over and give you some tips for treating exotic plants."
Where was Snape when you needed him? "No, no thank you. I'm sure I can manage on my own."
"It'll be my pleasure." He smiled, exposing all of his magically bleached teeth at her.
Sprout groaned.
Snape sat by the window in the staff room; he had two hours before his next lesson. Everything was prepared and ready to go. He always liked to make an impression on the first years, they always started out hearing stories from the other students and had probably all decided that he wasn't going to frighten them. Oh the fun he had.
He lit a cigarette and opened his briefcase. Well, briefcase would be pushing it a little bit, it was more stuck together and battered to be called anything, so far (like the coffee pot) he had resisted any change. Alastor was always trying to buy him one for his birthday or Christmas, but he too was beginning to learn that Snape was somewhat attached to his briefcase.
"What?!" He pulled out a caterpillar. It looked sleepily at him, clearly annoyed to be woken at this time of day. He made a mental note to speak to Professor Sprout about these caterpillars; usually they were something to do with her. Or Hagrid.
He fished out his lesson plan for the first year Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff lesson. Yes, everything was ready. He noticed that there was a letter sticking out the corner of his book ('The Portrait of Dorian Gray'), he picked it up. It was a letter from his partner, Alastor; he smiled to himself and settled down to read it.
Half an hour later the disgruntled Herbology teacher marching into the room disturbed his thoughts. "Why Dumbledore had to hire that incompetent fool…"
"I presume you're talking about our esteemed celebrity." Snape replied folding the letter away.
"Yes. The…bastard had the nerve to tell me how to treat a Whomping Willow. He then proceeded to tell my Gryffindor/Hufflepuff class that he was showing me the right way to doctor a Whomping Willow!"
He held out his cigarette case, she took one. "Thankfully he hasn't felt the need to impart any knowledge upon me yet."
Sprout pulled up a chair and sat opposite him, "have you read any of his books?"
"Yes." Snape admitted, lighting Sprout's cigarette for her. "Enough to decide that they are pretentious works of fiction."
"You don't think he did any of those things?"
"I don't deny that they happened I just doubt his involvement. He doesn't seem that capable."
She looked around, "do you think he's…you know…"
"Gay? Possibly."
"Okay." She leaned back in her chair, "as a gay man do you find him attractive?"
"No. I can see how people do, but personally no."
"Do you think Alastor would?"
"I don't think so. He tends to go for…men, rather than queens."
Sprout laughed, "and you would describe Lockhart as a queen?"
"Oh yes."
"Why don't you ask him?"
"Ask him?" He shook his head, "you ask him. I'm not interested."
"Do you think Filius would?"
"I doubt it."
A bell rang somewhere deep within the castle.