Winter was settling in on Professor Evelyn Whisp's first year as the resident spiritalis at Hogwarts. She taught mediumship and exorcism, the summoning and expelling of all manner of phantoms, wraiths, and shadows.
She was making a cup of tea to sit down in front of a warm fire with an endless pile of grading when she heard someone at her door and got up to answer it. Oh dear god.
"Good evening Dear," Lockhart beamed and pushed into her room. He was widely considered handsome, but she couldn't see it. Earlier in the semester, she had tried to politely dodge his advances, but he seemed to think that she didn't understand what he was getting at and only came on stronger. She had tried being direct with him, but he was undeterred.
She didn't want to be rude. How could he not see that he wasn't welcome. She wasn't afraid of his prowess as a wizard, but if he felt stung, who knows what story he would conjure and how it could affect her reputation. Not all power came in the form of magic.
Nonetheless, she didn't want him in her room. She carefully chose her word, interrupting Lockhart explaining how excited she must feel. "Professor Lockhart, I would like you to leave."
"Oh, come now, don't play coy," he replied, taking a step closer to her.
She attempted a step backward in response, but backed into the wall. "No really I-" There was another knock at the door. "I should get that."
She ignored Lockhart's protest and strode toward the door. Severus Snape was standing on the other side, holding a small bundle of roots. She had been asking around for some burdock, and the Bloody Baron must have prodded Snape into sharing. The Baron had become somewhat of a friend after assisting with a few demonstrations.
Snape surveyed the room. His eyes moved across Lockhart and the bottle of wine on the counter. "I'm not interrupting am I?" He asked in a rich, deep tone.
"Not at all, please come in," Evelyn responded. She locked eyes pleadingly with Snape for a moment. Please, please, don't leave me alone with him.
Snape made a face as though he were listening for a very quiet sound. "I suppose I could spare a moment."
He strode in with a casual confidence, her unlikely hero for the evening. Snape sadistically drank in Lockhart's irritation at his mere presence. Every sign of Lockhart's distress fed Snape's calm delight, which in turn, infuriated Lockhart all the more.
Snape reached the wine bottle and tilted up the label, feeling Lockhart's anger reach a crescendo. He wondered how much further he could push the old boy. "This is a lovely vintage. May I open it?" Lockhart was absolutely fuming at this point. He made a few incoherent remarks as Snape was setting out glasses and let himself out.