Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Professor Riddle
By the time class was dismissed, I was already feeling better… Physically speaking. Allowing me to be separated from Adrian and head to history of magic with the rest of the fourth-year Gryffindors. The knockback jinx isn't known for its aftereffects and Lockhart isn't the epicenter of magical prowess. Other than being a little sore tomorrow, I doubt I'd be affected by today… Physically, I mean. Emotionally, I was one poke away from turning into the bloodthirsty beast whose only purpose in life was to maul anyone so much as looked at me funny.
My right hand clutched the strap of my bookbag while my left was clenched into a fist, digging my fingernails into the palm of my hand. My eyes burned with the intensity that I very much wished to release on some unsuspecting soul. Fred and George walked on either side of me and Lee walked behind us. They're holding themselves just as tensely as I am; muttering back and forth to each other over my head about possible revenge choices. "We could try experimenting with that muggle itching powder again".
"We could set off dung bombs in his office".
"Put some of our Nosebleed potions into his morning coffee".
"Think Sprout would give us some belladonna if we ask politely?"
These were all wonderful ideas my fellow triplets were coming up with, but they were missing a big component. Lockhart using me as a target for his spell practice, while hurtful, wasn't that big of a deal. This was a magic school after all. Everyone here has or will be hit with spells during their education. What Lockhart had done was far worse than cast magic on me. He called me out in front of both my friends and enemies, insulted my appearance, and created a situation where I wasn't even allowed to defend myself. Hags don't use wands, after all. What hurt the most about that defense class wasn't being knocked off my feet repeatedly. It was being humiliated in front of an audience and having to stomach my peers' laughter and pity without being able to respond.
I've never been very good at being the butt of someone's joke. At least not as Jessie. As Holly, I was slightly better because I've been the punchline of many Fred and George pranks. I can laugh at myself when they're covering me in glitter or hiding my possessions from me. But Fred and George have also never done anything that intentionally caused me discomfort or made me lose face. Lockhart had hit me where it hurt, and I wanted to return the favor.
"I want to make his hair fall out and his teeth decay", I growled out over Fred and George's growing list of revenge suggestions as we rounded the corner; forcing a group of chattering first years to step out of our way as we continued on. I wanted to target the things Lockhart cared about the most, his good looks and his award-winning smile. If he thought I looked like a hag, I was going to make him feel like an ogre.
Fred and George fell silent as we continued on our way to history of magic. They were probably trying to think up all the ways they could make my wants a reality. Fred and George were like the fairy godmothers of mischief. If someone had a wish for justified mayhem, they'd try to grant it.
We were nearing Binns' classroom. It was tempting to skip. It was doubtful that Binns would even notice if we didn't make an appearance. But if Percy ever caught wind that we ditched class, he'd be on our case faster than a bee to honey. Right before we reached the doors, Lee spoke up. "That should be the fourth challenge in our Angelina competition".
I pause mid-step. Causing George and Fred to do the same. Once Lee's words fully sank in, I turned around. Lee grins as soon as he sees that he has my attention. But he doesn't speak again until Fred and George turn around too. "First one to run Lockhart out of the castle wins", he proposed.
I mulled it over in my head. It was a great idea that I loved entirely. But I wasn't so engulfed by my anger and wounded ego that I forgot that Lockhart had to stay long enough for us to reclaim the diary. However, despite knowing I needed to, I was struggling to think up an excuse as to why we shouldn't ruin Lockhart. It was like trying to convince yourself you didn't want chocolate when you really really do. Unlike me, however; Fred and George never try to restrain themselves from indulging their desires. "I'm game", said George. Something in his voice had me flinching back so I could get a look at his face. His eyes are gleaming as a devilish smirk takes over his whole persona.
"Let the best prankster win", Fred said from my other side in a voice equally as sinister as George's. I turn my head only to see that his expression is the same as George'sl. Even though it is in our best interest to keep our focus on the diary, I'm glad my brothers want to make Lockhart miserable. Even though I know better, I give in with a sigh. It's not a big sigh. I wanted this just as much as they did but damn it. This wasn't going to end well.
It was like Lockhart had undergone a personality change overnight. To most, it was confusing or simply marked off as some sort of celebrity quirk. To us who knew about the diary, we were confident it had to do with You-know-who's soul fragment absorbing Lockhart's lifeforce. In the book when Ginny had been getting her soul absorbed like she was liquid and You-Know-Who was a sponge, she had been depicted as scared, and flighty. Rightfully so. If it had been me, I'd be freaking out if I woke up with chicken blood on my hands and robes, and no memory of the last couple of hours.
I think, at this point in the story, Ginny had tossed the diary away; having connected the dots between the charismatic writings of Tom Riddle and her blackouts. However, Lockhart hadn't displayed any of these same feelings or fears. He made his regular appearances in the great hall and taught all his classes with his stupid perfect hair and his pearly white teeth. It made me wonder what he thought about the lost time and if he expected the diary was evil or not. I suppose he could have chucked the diary by now. He is a different person and a man. So, it's unlikely that he'd try to get rid of it in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom like Ginny had. But with no way of knowing and going off gut instinct, I think Lockhart still has it. And that instinct has nothing to do with the fact that I want to rip out his hair and leave him looking like something from a muggle haunted house. Nope. Has nothing to do with that at all.
Lockhart's personality change came in the form of short-temperedness and petty revenge. Anyone who didn't sing his praises, give him their full undivided attention or did anything to refuse him got called on during class to participate in a demonstration. In the next class, it was Adrian who caught Lockhart's evil eye. Probably because he had interfered with Lockhart's fun from the last class.
With pursed lips, Adrian moved to the front of the classroom, the same spot I had stood, to play the role of a bumbling squib that had been kicked out by his pureblood family, and relied on Lockhart to help him assimilate into the muggle world. This was a story that hadn't been in any of Lockhart's published works. I can only assume it was developed for the sole purpose of embarrassing Adrian. And for a pureblood coming from Adrian's heritage and political views, it was embarrassing. To be forced to act out a role that hinted at the dwindling strength of pure bloodlines, and made him sound like an incapable idiot was hurtful to Adrian's pride. When Lockhart released him, Adrian returned to our shared desk, and I could see he was fuming under his carefully crafted façade. At least, Lockhart hadn't used magic on him, even if the reason was just another blow to Adrian's identity laced in. Because apparently using magic on a helpless squib was the equivalent of punching someone with glasses in the face.
The Hogwarts gossip mill filled with stories about Lockhart bullying students during classes. In the beginning, Slytherin was operating under the impression of 'So what? Snape bullies students all the time.' Even though the rest of the school, like me, seemed to come to the same conclusion that Lockhart was crossing a line Snape never had. But when one of their own became under fire by Lockhart's classroom displays, they changed their tunes. In a way… a very messed up and deplorable way, Lockhart's teaching methods were bringing the four houses together. Slytherins were gossiping with Hufflepuffs in the hallways. Ravenclaws were giving Gryffindors pointers on how to fly under the radar. It was… a weird benefit to current affairs. One I hadn't anticipated. I mean, Umbridge's reign of terror hadn't unified the houses through mutual dislike. Why wouldn't it be the same for Lockhart?
Then the rumors grew in alarming strangeness. A fifth-year Hufflepuff stumbled across Lockhart standing alone in a corridor, grumbling angrily as if he was talking to an invisible presence. Or about how he zoned out for ten minutes during the third-year Gryffindor and Ravenclaw defense class. No matter how loud or how frequently the class had called his name, Lockhart didn't respond. He just stared at the blackboard without blinking.
Fred, George, Lee, and I came up with numerous plans to get back at Lockhart during that time. Lee thought of sending Lockhart fake fan mail laced with oil that would damage his hair follicles each time Lockhart ran a hand through his perfect hair. Fred and George came up with the idea of selling talismans that could 'protect' students from the chamber of secret's monster. They would, of course, give a special free one to their favorite teacher, Professor Lockhart. What would make this talisman special would be the hex they placed on it that would randomly throw Lockhart off-balance whenever he wore it. I know it doesn't sound like some grand prank, but it could have some nasty results if Lockhart was ever wearing it around a flight of stairs. I tossed around ideas. But decided that my best idea was the one that involved filling Lockhart's office with redcaps.
However, no matter how many ideas the four of us came up with, no one made a move. We… and I hate admitting this, we were too scared. And in my and my fellow triplet's case, none of our prank ideas would help us reclaim the diary. Generally, when we pranked someone, we knew exactly what we were getting into. We'd get yelled at or scolded depending on who caught us. Detention was a given. As were the laughs from whoever was there to witness it. But right now, in the midst of Lockhart's current… behavior, messing with him felt like unleashing the forces of hell. We didn't know how Lockhart would react.
In fact, no matter what we do, I don't think we'd be pranking Lockhart. I think we'd be pranking Tom Riddle. And that was a task that would have even the bravest of Gryffindors stalling. So, as November faded into December, we didn't mock or rib each other for not making a move in this fourth challenge.
Of course, Lee didn't know about Tom Riddle, so he didn't have a reason to explain his apprehension like Fred, George, and me. But anyone who spent time with Lockhart would understand why he was uneasy. Lockhart was like a game of Russian Roulette. We didn't know when he would go off or on who. Even the teachers appeared to be catching on to something inappropriate happening in Lockhart's classes. They would eye him with suspicion in the hallways and Flitwick had started asking us during the last five minutes of his classes about what was going on in defense. No one answered him though. At least, not in our class. Everyone was too afraid they'd become Lockhart's next victim.
No one was spared from running the chance of being called up to participate in one of Lockhart's in-class demonstrations. Though he did have his favorites. I was one of them. Adrian was another. But his ultimate favorite was Harry. I'll give you three guesses why that is.
Of course, we weren't in the same year as the golden trio, so we never saw what Lockhart was doing during their classes. But we heard all about it. "It was awful", Hermione would stress over her charms book in a quiet corner of the common room. "He made Harry cast rictusempra over and over again until his core was depleted".
"The man's a lunatic", Ron would report around a mouthful of mashed potatoes at dinner time in the great hall. "He used the tongue-tying curse on Harry and called on him for every question. If it wasn't for Hermione, Harry would still be speaking like a drunk goblin".
Harry, himself, never complained. As his friends voiced their offense on his behalf, Harry remained silent with a sort of resigned endurance I suspect is left over from the time he spent living with the Dursleys. At least, Hermione stopped singing Lockhart's praises.
Similar to us, the golden trio wasn't any closer to freeing Dobby than we were with getting the diary. I'm not sure why. Maybe they weren't motivated. Or maybe Harry and Ron weren't as gung-ho about house-elf liberation as Hermione was. But how hard could it be to trick Malfoy Jr. to hand Dobby an article of clothing? It wasn't like Malfoy was particularly cunning as a second-year. Hermione could run circles around him. From where I'm standing, it seems like a much easier task than stealing back the diary. Were they just overthinking it? Were we all getting tangled up in our thoughts?
"Miss Weasley, are you paying attention?" Came the berating voice of our professor, who not two weeks ago, never sounded like that. I snapped out of my internalizing problems with a visible flinch. Crap. Looks like I've caught the evil eye again.
I snapped my eyes up from where I had been staring blankly at Adrian's textbook. It was the right textbook this time. The one Lockhart had asked us to bring for today's class. We could no longer work on assignments from other classes during defense. Not when it ran the risk of drawing the ire of an unstable narcissist. Although, no one was really paying attention to Lockhart's lesson. "Yes, sir", I answered as I forced myself to make eye contact; feeling slightly proud of myself when my voice came out strong. "I'm listening".
The classroom is engulfed in a terse silence as Lockhart's blue eyes bore into mine. His gaze is different, like everything else regarding his persona. His focus is sharper now. More like a person that could dissect you with one look rather than a person who spent all his free time looking into a mirror.
"And yet you don't have your own book", Lockhart countered; his tone foreboding. My shoulders tensed as I felt Adrian stiffen next to me. Everyone knew why I didn't have my own book. Everyone knew why Fred, George, and I were constantly passing the assigned texts and school supplies back and forth. No one had ever called us out about it before now.
Other than the occasional priss who found self-importance in mocking those who came from households with smaller incomes, no one really cared that we wore hand-me-down clothes and lived off limited finances. Actually, ever since I had gotten cozy with Adrian, I hadn't heard one discouraging comment from another student about my family being poor. "My family couldn't afford to buy six sets of your books, sir". I answered honestly. If Lockhart was trying to embarrass me again, he wouldn't succeed. As Jessie, I had grown up in a single-parent household. I was used to living on a budget and felt no shame in it. Coming from a family of ten, I already had more than most people.
Lockhart didn't even try to look uncomfortable for committing a social blunder. "Aw, how unfortunate", he drawled out in a tone that didn't fit his appearance at all. "Nevertheless. It's a student's responsibility to come to class prepared, and you are not. Five points from Gryffindor". If Lockhart wasn't looking at me, I would have rolled my eyes. I hadn't come to class with my own book all year. Neither have Fred and George. During defense, I shared with Adrian, and Fred and George shared with each other. But whatever. House points were the last thing on my mind. Though, Lockhart wasn't done. "It's unfair to force Mr. Pucey to share his book".
As Lockhart turned his eyes onto the boy sitting next to me, I swung my line of vision over to my brothers. Like the rest of our classmates, they were sitting with stiff backs. There wasn't anything they could do. Like in most situations when a bully is reigning over others, the bystanders feel powerless and remain silent out of fear they could be next. But this situation was worse because of the difference of power between Lockhart and us students. He could put us in detention, keep us after class, and give us failing grades. As someone who had previously been an adult, I didn't really care if I failed a class. And I knew Fred and George didn't either because they knew what was at stake with Lockhart's shift of character. But for others, who didn't remember past lives, school was their job and a path towards a future. A failing grade they didn't truly deserve and the consequences that would follow was terrifying. Still, I looked toward my brothers. They couldn't intervene without getting in the crossfires. But it was a comfort to know they would witness whatever was about to happen.
"I highly doubt the two of you read at the same speed", Lockhart continued. His eyes turned back to me. "So, you'll just have to help me with my demonstration of the twitchy-ears hex. I think that's the only way you'll be able to learn".
This time I do roll my eyes, not caring if Lockhart saw. Of course, he'd want me to act as a spell dummy again. I started to rise from my seat with the palms of my hands placed flat against the desktop as I prepared myself to feel like Dumbo for the rest of the class. Surely, this wouldn't be as bad as being hit by the knock-back jinx repeatedly. At least, no one, not even Stimpson, would be laughing at my expense this time. Lockhart's cruelty built a fragile sort of comradery, after all. But a hand grasping my wrist stopped me from standing fully.
Expressing confusion, I glanced down at Adrian. But he isn't looking at me. Not even as his grip on my wrist becomes progressively tighter. His focus is on Lockhart as he stares him down with a steely resolve. Adrian, what are you doing?
I'm still standing in the awkward position of being half-seated when Adrian said, "Holly will not be participating". Adrian spoke like Lockhart needed his permission to call on me in class. Adrian's declaration gave me flashbacks to last year when Adrian and I had a clash of differences in cultural expectations. In any other situation, the comment he had just made would have made my hackles rise. But Adrian had just done something that no one else had dared to. So, instead of annoyance, I felt fear. Fear for the boy I had grown fond of. After all, Adrian had no idea he was willingly approaching a land mine.
Unlike last time, Adrian stopped Lockhart from casting magic on me, Lockhart didn't stumble with his words as he tried to save face. If anything, he seemed amused by Adrian's interference. Giving me more and more of a sense that it wasn't Lockhart who was teaching our class. "You don't have the authority to decide that, Mr. Pucey". Lockhart said menacingly but without raising his voice.
"It's okay", I whispered to my boyfriend, silently pleading for him to back down. "I can take it". I didn't know what Adrian was doing. But I didn't want him to end up another casualty of all this madness. Especially when Lockhart had access to a basilisk.
But Adrian shot me such a strong look. A look that expressed how much Adrian wanted me to leave things in his hands. It was unyielding. So much that I dropped back into my seat; feeling stunned. Adrian has always been an intense guy. That wasn't surprising, but he had never directed the full force of his personality on me before. Once I was fully sitting again, Adrian looked back at the man pretending to be an educator. "In fact", Adrian continued as if neither I nor Lockhart had spoken. "If I ever see or hear that you've used magic on a student ever again, I'll tell Professor Dumbledore or any of the teachers. And if that doesn't work, I'll go to the Hogwarts Board of Governors".
A different type of tenseness took over the classroom's atmosphere. This one was less resigned. It carried more action potential. Like a cauldron about to bubble over. And Adrian had served as the igniting spark. I started to feel cold as something dangerous glinted in Lockhart's eyes. Adrian, no. No. No. No. Please, no. You don't know what you're walking into, I thought. "You'll need proof if you want them to believe you". Lockhart pointed out nonchalantly as if Adrian posed no threat.
"That won't be difficult". Adrian promised with no fault in his conviction. My stomach was doing flips as I watched all this play out. What Adrian was doing was… well, it would be smart if he knew all the pieces that were at play. In cases of bullying, the most efficient way to subdue the bully was to take away their power by standing up for the victims. The more bystanders who wouldn't put up with the abuse, the less fear the bully could invoke. The difficult part was being the first person to stand up because if no one else followed, that person would be the next one on the chopping block.
The problem is Lockhart isn't just a bully. He's the host of a soul fragment belonging to a psychopath that's infected with dark magic. And out of the six people who currently know that Adrian isn't one of them. Merlin's beard on toast!
Lockhart smiled, displaying his award-winning teeth for all to see. But it seemed less bright than it had in the past. Lockhart's hands twitched as one started to move towards his pocket. For his wand? I wasn't sure, but if Lockhart was reaching for his wand, I doubt he was still thinking about doing the twitchy-year hex. My eyes flickered back to Fred and George. They weren't looking at me; too focused on the demon currently teaching our class. Meaning I had no way to communicate to them that I was about to do something unplanned and incredibly stupid.
But it couldn't be helped. My only goal; my sole reason to exist was to keep Fred and the rest of my loved ones alive. That now included Adrian. Adrian, who was blindly charging into a battle without knowing who was fighting on the other side. I needed to intercept and pull Lockhart's focus off Adrian. However, I can only think of one way to do that. I just hope my brothers will forgive me when it's all over.
Lockhart started to open his mouth, but I beat him to it. With the sound of my heart pounding in my ears, I said, "You're an enigma, Professor". Lockhart pressed his lips into a thin line as he pulled his attention away from Adrian. It wasn't long until his eyes and that of the rest of the class were on me. I took a big breath and forced myself to continue. Even though my instincts were screaming at me to stop. Fred. George. I'm sorry. "You're completely different from how you were at the beginning of the year. Almost like you're a different person entirely". Lockhart's eyes hardened to a point that caused my legs to shake. But I licked my lips and finished painting a target on my back. "It's like you're a riddle you want us to solve. Maybe we should start calling you Professor Riddle".
The only sign I had gotten under Lockhart's skin was the small twinge of his left eye. From the other side of the room, Fred and George were gaping at me with horror. While everyone else, Adrian included, was blinking at me in confusion. Enigma? Professor Riddle? What was I going on about? And me….. Well, I had just signed my own death warrant.