Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, it belongs to JK Rowling, etc, etc. Anyone who thinks I do own Harry Potter is an idiot.

Potter: A History

Lockhart

Harry's first lesson with Lockhart came the very next day. In the morning Malfoy told him about his father managing to secure them positions on the Slytherin Quidditch team. Their first practice was set for the end of the week. Harry couldn't wait to have a broom between his legs again and to feel the wind blowing through his hair.

Their first Defence Against the Dark Arts class happened in the afternoon. As Malfoy had alleged, Harry found that indeed Gilderoy Lockhart was a phoney. The class started off bad and only got worse. Lockhart began by introducing himself with a string of titles, including Order of Merlin, First Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, and five times winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award. 'But I don't I don't talk about that,' he finished.

'Idiot just did,' Malfoy whispered. Harry smiled slightly.

Next they had a thirty-minute quiz on Gilderoy Lockhart – as if that was important. Harry took one look at the questions and point blank refused to answer any of them. Malfoy looked at Harry's blank parchment paper and snorted. 'Good idea,' he said.

Lockhart collected the papers exactly half an hour later and began to flick through them. Harry didn't notice the surprise on his new teacher's face because he was staring out the window, wishing he'd brought some of his own books to this lesson so the time wouldn't be a total waste. He was brought out of his own thoughts when Lockhart said in a loud, whinny voice, 'Harry Potter?'

Harry slowly turned to look at the professor. Everyone was staring at him.

'Did you find the questions too difficult?' Lockhart asked.

Harry scowled at the implication. 'No.'

'Then why haven't you answered a single question?'

Harry shrugged half-heartedly. He wasn't about to squander his breath on this waste of space.

Lockhart went red. He was about to speak when Malfoy spoke up. 'I think Potter thought the questions were stupid, so he decided not to answer them.' The silver haired Slytherin didn't even try to keep the mocking smirk from his face. A few Slytherin students chuckled.

If possible, Lockhart went even redder. 'Well, that's… detention… for the both of you.' The brightly robed wizard stood up straighter in attempt to seem taller. It was pretty pathetic.

'Detention? I didn't do anything!' Malfoy protested. 'My father will be hearing about this.'

Lockhart turned his gaze away from Harry and Malfoy and attempted to bring the class back into order. He made his way over to a covered cage placed behind his desk and brought it forward.

Harry leant back in his chair and yawned. Malfoy looked at him out of the corner of his eye. 'Can you believe this idiot?'

Harry shrugged in his usual manner.

'I must ask you not to scream,' Harry heard Lockhart say, and curious, he sat up to pay more attention. 'It might provoke them.'

Lockhart whipped off the cover to reveal a swarm of yapping Cornish pixies. Harry groaned and fell back in his chair. Malfoy and Zabinin burst out laughing.

'Pixies!' Zabini cackled.

Lockhart was furious. 'Well, if you think they're so funny, let's see how you handle them.' He opened the cage and carnage ensued. Harry shook his head and ducked out of the classroom unnoticed during all the bedlam. He was only half way down the corridor when Malfoy and Zabini caught up with him.

'Bloody pixies,' Malfoy snorted, 'what a joke.'

'Complete waste of time,' Zabini agreed.

'Where you off to Potter?'

'Library,' he replied.

'Well, as much fun as that sounds,' Zabini began, 'I'm going to the Great Hall. Might get myself a hot date. Coming Malfoy?'

'Nah. I'll go with Potter.'

'Suit yourselves.'

Malfoy scoffed at Zabini's back as the other Slytherin strolled casually away with his hands in his pockets, whistling cheerily. 'I don't get that kid.' There was a moment of silence as the two second year students took the stairs up, heading towards the fourth floor library. 'What are we going to the library for? Anything specific?'

'Mm,' Harry murmured. 'I want to know what Old Magic is.'

Malfoy pursed his lips in thought, then said, 'Never heard of it.'

After entering the library and finding an empty table near the back, Malfoy leaned close to Harry. 'Learn anything interesting this summer?' He whispered to not draw attention to them. Madam Pince was like a hawk, ready to swoop down on any chattering students.

Harry scowled. 'Didn't get a chance,' he replied, moving away and disappearing between the stacks.

Malfoy followed, jogging a tiny bit to catch up. 'Why?'

'Dursleys.'

'Come on Potter, I'm not a mind reader. Spell it out for me!'

'It doesn't matter,' Harry said, shaking his head and distractedly scanning the bookshelves as he moved down the aisle. 'Telling you won't change anything.'

Malfoy laughed with disbelief. 'You're unbelievable. Come on. Just bloody tell me!'

Harry shot him a dark look. 'You trying to get us thrown out?'

'No, but I will if you don't tell me what they did.'

'Ugh,' Harry groaned, 'fine. They found out I wasn't allowed to use magic outside school. Took my books, wand, Hedwig, everything. Happy?'

'Why'd they do that?'

'They don't like me being a wizard. It's evil, devil worshipping stuff.'

Malfoy laughed. 'What a bunch of morons! They honestly believe that?'

Harry glanced curiously at Malfoy. The young Slytherin was acting as if being a wizard wasn't a bad thing, but… the Dursleys raised him – they wouldn't lie to him about it, would they? Except… Harry felt like hitting himself. They'd lied about his parents – who was to say they weren't lying about magic being evil. Then again… the power in him… it felt evil, didn't it? And Malfoy wasn't exactly a reliable source.

It was something to think about.

Either way, magic was unnatural.

'Muggles!' Malfoy snorted disparagingly.

'Mm.' Harry ran his hand along the books in front of him. There was nothing even remotely related to Old Magic. He was in the Ancient History section… surely that was the best place to look. Unless…

'It must be really old,' Harry murmured so softly Malfoy didn't even hear him.

That night in bed, Harry lay awake, pondering. Old Magic, Professor Snape had said, referring to the blocking of the entrance to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Harry was sure Dobby had something to do with it. The annoying pointy-eared menace didn't want Harry returning to Hogwarts. It was the only logical answer. What was the connection then, between Old Magic and Dobby?

Sleep did not come for Harry that night.