Harry could certainly say that he didn't expect that his return to Hogwarts would come about by way of a flying Ford Anglia, not did he intend to almost get himself, Ron and John expelled in the process, but now that it was done, he was in a way... happy that he'd done it. He decided that it would be a story he'd tell for years, in spite of Hermione's obvious disapproval.
John seemed to have taken it in his stride, nonchalantly telling the story to Isobel MacDougal, Lisa Turpin and Mandy Brocklehurst, all Ravenclaw girls in their year. He was indeed sat on the Gryffindor bench, though he wasn't facing the table at all. The previous evening, he had been doing the same with Paravti Patil, Lavender Brown and Shelly McInally.
"John's found something he likes more than food then", said Seamus, grinning. Harry scoffed into his orange juice and spilled some down his front.
"You've got a bit of work to do before you can join him then", said Sam Wood, grinning at Harry.
"Unbelievable", Hermione muttered.
"What?", asked Ron.
"John. I can't believe he's-", she started, before Errol, Ron's family owl landed, quivering with exhaustion. Ron extricated the red envelope he was carrying, allowing Errol to fly back to the owlery to recover. Ron went pale upon realising what he was holding.
"Oh no", he moaned.
"What?", asked Harry.
"Mum's... sent me a howler", said Ron.
"Ron, you should open it. I ignored one from my gran once and it was a hundred times worse", said Neville, grimacing.
Ron gulped, but tore open the envelope. Mrs. Weasley's furious, yelling voice filled the hall, magnified a hundred times over anything previously heard. It was safe to say that this was enough to put a halt to John's flirting.
RONALD WEASLEY!
HOW DARE YOU STEAL THAT CAR!
All eyes in the hall were now on Ron, who looked like he would have preferred to sink into the floor itself.
YOUR FATHER IS NOW FACING AN ENQUIRY AT WORK AND IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT!
That made Harry's stomach clench uncomfortable. After all the Weasleys had done for him that summer, he had put Mr. Weasley's job at risk...
-ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE AND YOU WILL BE HEADED STRAIGHT HOME!
After finishing, the letter tore itself to shreds all over Ron's toast. Something told Harry that Ron was no longer in the mood to finish said toast.
"Don't tell me I deserved that", Ron said, not even needing to look at Hermione to know that she had opened her mouth to do exactly that.
Hermione's mouth hung open for a moment, before she closed it, glaring at him.
"Besides, if you did, so did Harry and I. Yeah, we get it, it was probably stupid, but we thought it was our only option. Come on then, might as well get to Herbology", said John, standing up.
Herbology that day was an interesting lesson; marked by repotting Mandrakes, which required earmuffs owing to the power of their shrieks (which the earmuffs didn't entirely prevent; Harry's ears were ringing a full minute after the lesson had ended), but it was defence against the dark arts as usual, that garnered the most curiosity. Mostly due to the fact that their teacher was famous of course. That especially hadn't gone unnoticed by the girls. Nor did his handsome face, which every girl in their class without fail gazed into longingly.
"Jesus, I hope I never become that pathetic", John muttered to Ron.
"Same", Ron replied, shooting a particularly disgusted look at Hermione.
"Let me introduce you to your new defence against the dark arts professor. Me", said Lockhart, diving them all a dazzling smile. The way he showed every single one of his almost blindingly white teeth when speaking was quite remarkable.
"Gilderoy Lockhart. Order of Merlin, third class. Honorary member of the dark force defence league and five times winner... of Witch Weekly's most charming smile award! But more of that another time. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!" he said, looking expectantly at the class. no one was laughing. Some people gave indulgent smiles (all of them girls).
"Scratch what I said earlier. Let's hope I never become that pathetic", whispered John. Ron and Harry snickered from behind their Lockhart textbook pile, while Hermione, Susan Bones and Shelly McInally turned to glare at him. John shrugged, smiling innocently at them.
"Now I thought we'd start this off with a little quiz! Nothing to worry about, just something to see how well you've read my books!", said Lockhart, heading to his desk and pulling a stack of quizzes which he proceeded to hand out to the class. "You have thirty minutes. Start!"
The quiz, as it turned out, had almost nothing to do with Defence Against the Dark Arts.
1. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favourite colour?
2. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's ideal birthday present?
3. What in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?
The quiz went on for a further forty-some questions, finally landing on:
45. What are Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambitions?
Upon seeing the nature of the questions, Harry, Ron and John exchanged looks that showed a shared sense of mingled confusion and disgust.
Once Lockhart had collected the quizzes when the time was up, he began skim reading through the answers given by the class, commenting on them as he went.
"Tut tut... hardly any of you remembered that my favourite colour is lilac! I say so in Travels with Trolls! And a few of you should read Wandering with Werewolves a little more carefully; I clearly state in chapter twelve that my ideal birthday present would be harmony between magical and non magical folk. Though I wouldn't refuse a bottle of Ogden's old Firewhiskey!", he said, giving the class a wink which had John, Seamus, Dean and Alex Wood shaking with laughter which they forced to be silent. Ron was staring in shock at Lockhart though.
"But Miss Hermione Granger did remember that my secret ambitions are to rid the magical world of darkness and then to start a range of hair care products! It looks like she achieved full marks! Where is Hermione Granger?", Lockhart asked.
At this, and the sight of Hermione raising a trembling hand in the air, red-faced but delighted, John had to hide his head under his table to hide his laughter.
"Excellent, ten points to Gryffindor!", he said, bending down behind his desk and lifting a large, covered cage from behind it. It looked big enough perhaps, for something the size of Achilles, John's great grey owl.
"Now, it would be remiss of me not to remind you that it is my job to teach you to protect yourself against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind. You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this very room. Know only that no harm can befall you in my presence. All I ask is that you remain calm", said Lockhart, his tone suddenly far more serious than it had been beforehand. This, finally got Harry's attention and the rest of the class was no different.
"I must ask you not to scream", he said, tapping the cage with his wand. The cage began to rattle and shake. The class was deadly silent. "It might provoke them", he said, lifting his hand to the cover.
Once he lifted the cover, Seamus Finnigan began laughing, unable to silence it. Harry couldn't blame him. The cage held eight-inch tall, electric blue...
"Cornish Pixies?" Seamus scoffed.
"Freshly caught Cornish Pixies", said Lockhart proudly.
"Well they're- they aren't very dangerous are they?" Seamus asked.
"Laugh if you want Mr. Finnigan but pixies can be devilishly tricky! The little blighters can cause quite the scene when they want to! See what you make of them!", Lockhart replied, before opening the cage.
The class was thrown into utter mayhem. Pixies flew in every direction, tearing up books, wallpaper, paintings and two of them seized Neville and lifted him into the air, hanging him off the chandelier.
Lockhart, upon realising that they had caused more chaos than he anticipated, drew his wand and brandishes it in a complicated wavy motion.
"Peskipiksi Pesternomi!", he said, but to no effect. One of the pixies responded by seizing his wand and tossing it out of the nearest open window.
Most of the class had left the room by now. Harry, Ron, John and Hermione were following them, but Lockhart caught sight of them on their way.
"I'll ask you four to just nip them back into their cages", he said breathlessly, before retreating into his office.
"Unbelievable!", said Ron, leaping into the air and snatching in vain at the pixies.
"He just wants to give us some hands-on experience!", said Hermione, pulling a pixie off one of Lockhart's many portraits of himself.
"Grow up Hermione, the guy clearly hasn't got a clue!", said John, inwardly marvelling at the fact that he'd just told Hermione of all people to grow up.
"Rubbish, look at his books! Look at all of those amazing things he's done!", Hermione shot back.
"The things he says he's done", Ron said under his breath so that only Harry could hear him.
Harry was awoken at a truly unholy hour the next day, by none other than Oliver Wood.
"Ughh... Oliver, what time is it?", Harry asked.
"Time for Quidditch practice! Let's get going!", said Wood, brightly.
"Wait, my brother wanted to try out, should he come too?", asked Harry.
Harry couldn't clearly see Wood's face but he could practically see the enormous smile spreading across his face. He was obviously a fan of Harry's flying skills and was now hoping that John had inherited the same natural affinity for it.
"Good, get him up, bring him along!", said Wood.
John did not go with excitement. It was far too early for that. However, by the time they were at the pitch, he was indeed, ready and raring to go.
As it turned out, John was every bit the flyer that Harry was. He flew more aggressively, almost as if he was planning on winning games on his own. Wood was beside himself with delight at adding John to the team, having moved past the rage at himself at letting John beat him to the hoops.
That being said, the task of letting Alicia know that she was demoted to being a reserve chaser was far less enjoyable for him and the others.
"Sorry", said John, awkwardly, not knowing what to say or how to say it having taken Alicia's spot on the team.
"Don't make Oliver regret it!", said Alicia warningly.
John looked taken aback for a moment, before grinning.
"Never"
Their plan of waking at an ungodly hour did indeed pay off; there was enough time for John's trial as well as what turned out to be a long, dull lecture from Wood about tactics he'd spent the summer devising.
The energy that they'd mustered from John's trial was needless to say, sapped by said lecture. In fact, it took so long that by the time the team had spent no more than five minutes practicing, the stands had begun to fill up with spectators, including Colin Creevey with his camera.
Though they weren't alone.
Seven green-robed figures arrived on the scene. Wood was incensed.
"I booked the pitch specially for Gryffindor today! Oh we'll see about this!", he said, red-faced.
The Gryffindors landed in front of their bitter rivals, all of whom were grinning nastily at the red-robed players.
"What do you lot think you're doing here?", asked Wood, stepping right up to Marcus Flint, the heavily-built Slytherin captain. By now, some of those from the stands had started coming down. Ron and Hermione were among them. Both of them beamed at John, silently congratulating him for making it onto the team before they turned to the Slytherins.
"Easy Wood. I've got a note from professor Snape", said Flint, reaching his meaty fist inside his robes and pulling out a rolled up piece of parchment. Wood wordlessly snatched it from Flint's hands and unfurled it and read aloud.
"I, Severus Snape, give permission for the Slytherin team to use the Quidditch pitch to practice on Saturday the fifth of September, owing to the need to train their new seeker.
Signed,
Severus Snape
Potions Master
Head of Slytherin House"
"John's our new chaser", said Katie Bell immediately.
Flint grinned.
"Should've got a note from McGonagall then. Clear off", said Flint.
"We only tried him out today, how would we-", Fred started, before George nudged him and nodded towards the smallest player on the Slytherin team. Their new seeker was Draco Malfoy. George had also noticed his broom.
"Malfoy... whose arse did you have to kiss to get onto the team? No way you lot have held tryouts already", said John. The Gryffindors laughed loudly; even Hermione, who wasn't normally a fan of John's occasionally vulgar sense of humour.
"Won't be so dismissive of Draco when we wipe the floor with you sorry lot" said Flint, passing his broom from one hand to the other.
"Those are Nimbus 2001s! Where did you get those?", Ron asked, staring in shock and awe at what Harry begrudgingly admitted, were seven truly spectacular racing brooms.
"A gift from Draco's father to the Slytherin team. They're very impressive, we must admit. They outclass the old 2000 series in every category, don't they?", Flint asked, knowing that everyone already knew the answer to that question.
"I see how it is then", said Ron, looking at Malfoy as if he was a less than the shadow of a cockroach.
"It's a good thing the Gryffindor team didn't have to buy their way in then, isn't it? Look at John just today, he made it through actual skill", said Hermione, turning her nose up at Malfoy.
The Gryffindors laughed again and it was clear by the look on Malfoy's face that Hermione had touched a nerve.
"I'm surprised your sister didn't ask your father to do her work for her as well. Or does she actually have a shred of honour?" Hermione continued.
"Leave my sister out of it and keep your pathetic opinions to yourself you worthless mudblood!"
Harry and John looked at each other, then at Hermione, none of them having any idea what Malfoy had just said, but everyone else lost their tempers on the spot.
Fred and George lunged forwards, only to be held back by John and Oliver.
Angelina and Katie screamed "HOW DARE YOU!" in unison.
Ron however, reacted with more rage than all of the others. He pulled out his spellotaped wand, and pointed at Malfoy, using a curse which Harry couldn't hear over Katie's furious yells.
The curse was clearly powerful. Unfortunately though, Ron's wand was not likely to cooperate with him these days. The curse backfired. No one noticed for a moment until Ron retched, opened his mouth and out came... slugs.
The Slytherins now had a chance to bellow out laughter of their own. Malfoy was so overcome with his own mirth that he was on the floor, pounding the grass with his fists.
"Let's get him to Hagrid, it's closest!", said Harry.
Hermione shook herself out of the shock at seeing the grotesque sight and nodded.
When they arrived at Hagrid's cabin, they saw none other than Professor Lockhart, apparently giving Hagrid some advice.
"And if you need help, you need not hesitate to ask! I'll send you a copy of the book too!", he said, waving cheerfully at Hagrid as he left.
Hagrid meanwhile, brightened up visibly when he saw the next set of visitors to his home.
"Come in you lot, I was wonderin' when yeh'd come ter visit!", he said brightly.
"What's the matter Ron?", he added.
Ron opened his mouth to speak, before sticking his head out of the cabin and spraying the grass with further slugs.
"Ah righ' then...", said Hagrid, rummaging in a cabinet, before handing Ron a large bucket.
"Better out than in!", he said encouragingly.
"I suppose there aren't many options apart from waiting it out then. It's a difficult curse at the best of times, but with a broken wand?", Hermione asked, not needing to hear any answers.
"Who were yeh tryin' ter curse anyway?", Hagrid asked suspiciously.
"Malfoy", said Hermione at once. "He called me... something, but I don't really know what it means"
"Neither does Harry. Or me, but everyone else went nuts, it must've been way beyond Malfoy's normal level of being an arse", said John.
"He called her a mudblood, but-" Harry started.
"He did not!", Hagrid growled.
"What's a mudblood anyway?", asked John.
"It's about the worst thing Malfoy could think of", came Ron's voice. He was still looking rather green, but managed to carry on for the moment.
"Mudblood's a horrible way of describing wizards or witches with muggle parents. There are some wizards like the Malfoys who think they're better than everyone else because they're pure-bloods. No muggles in the family tree. Bunch of rubbish though, look at Neville - he's pureblood and can't stand a cauldron-!", said Ron, before releasing another wave of slugs.
"And they've yet ter come up with a spell that our Hermione can't cast!", said Hagrid proudly. Hermione went scarlet almost immediately.
"Dirty blood. That's what they think of people like Hermione. They think her being magical with muggle parents gives her dirty blood. Doesn't make any sense though, if wizards hadn't started marrying muggles, we'd have died out ages ago", said Ron.
"So... he's a racist then", said John.
"If the shoe fits", said Hermione.
"In the muggle world, idiots like him would get the crap beaten out of them", John said, furrowing his eyebrows.
"You're not going to beat him up!", said Hermione at once.
"Obviously not, even touching him would mean I'd need a shower - how many showers would it take to wash the filth off me if I kicked the crap out of him?", asked John.
That particular sentence did make both Ron and Hermione laugh and an hour later, Ron's slug attacks subsiding, they walked back up to the castle.
It was lunchtime at this point and McGonagall marched up to them as soon as she saw them.
"Yes, I've been looking for you. Not you Miss Granger, just the Potters and Weasley. Your detentions will begin tonight", she said.
"Alright... what are we going to do professor?", asked Harry.
"Mr. Weasley will be cleaning the trophy room with Mr. Filch, no magic allowed. You will help Professor Lockhart answer his fan mail. And John, you will be cleaning the potions classroom under professor Snape's supervision", said McGonagall.
All three boys felt that they'd had the worst deal.
"How long before Filch will be satisfied! He'll have me there for hours!", said Ron indignantly.
"I've done enough muggle cleaning at this point, I'd trade any time! Helping Lockhart answer his fanmail? He'll be a nightmare!", said Harry.
"Snape'll have me sat there wiping something that's already spotless, just because he can, the dickhead", said John.
"John!", Hermione gasped.
"Well he is", said John, shrugging.
"You're the ones who broke school rules, I don't see why you're complaining!", said Hermione.
"Oh, so you'd find it fun polishing trophies for three hours then?", asked Ron angrily.
"No, but it's... never mind", Hermione replied, rolling her eyes.
Harry was certain that he had the worst deal between the three detentions. Over three hours of saying "hmm" or "yeah" while Lockhart went on about his many 'adventures' or giving him "advice" along the lines of "Fame is a fickle friend Harry! Celebrity is as a celebrity does".
It was mind-numbing. Until...
Come. Come to me. Rip... and... tear... kill... kill!
"What?" Harry asked, shaking himself fully awake.
"I know! It broke all records! Three months straight at the top of the best-sellers list!", said Lockhart proudly.
"No, not that, the voice!", Harry replied quickly.
"Voice? What voice?", Lockhart asked, the gleaming-toothed smile fading from his face.
"That voice, it was whispering just- didn't you hear it?", Harry asked, faltering over his words.
"Are you alright Harry? I think you might be getting a little... drowsy. Great Scott, look at the time, no wonder! We've been here nearly four hours! The time has flown by, hasn't it! You'd better get off to bed now, but don't expect such a treat every time you get a detention", said Lockhart cheerfully.
"And Lockhart didn't hear any of it!", finished Harry in a panicked whisper
John, Ron and Hermione sat on front of Harry in the common room, listening intently with varying expressions on their face.
Hermione looked worried, Ron looked dumbfounded and John looked very pensive.
"Doesn't seem like the type of thing he normally bullshits about", said John thoughtfully. Hermione gave him a reproachful look, but said nothing.
"A voice that only you heard though? You're sure you weren't just close to sleeping?", Hermione asked.
"Definitely", said Harry firmly.
"You were completely alone in that office too", Ron mused.
"As shit as it sounds with that voice saying rip and tear and all that, we probably shouldn't do anything unless we hear it again", said John.
"What? But-", Harry started.
"John's right", Hermione cut across him. "Nothing... untoward has happened, you just heard a voice, sinister as it may have been. We need to wait and see what happens next, that's the only thing we can do. What would we tell a teacher? You heard a strange voice in a detention but nothing else happened?", Hermione asked.
Harry begrudgingly admitted to himself that Hermione was right (as usual). If this was real, the last thing he wanted was to sound like a madman ranting and raving about voices in his head.