(replaces chapter 6 of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets)
The next morning was rather strange for a variety of reasons. Harry woke up feeling as though he should be especially glad that Ben prevented them from taking drastic actions. Harry could only wonder what he and Ron would have done if they had missed the train. When he sat at the Gryffindor table with Ron and Hermione, he heard conversations around them about a car arriving at Hogwarts last night.
"You hear the rumors about the car?" Harry asked his friends.
Ron colored as he started tearing further into his breakfast. Hermione shot him a disgusted look before she responded to Harry. "The Weasley's car apparently drove itself here last night, crashing into the willow tree on the ground."
"What?"
"Yeah. The tree didn't seem to like that and started to attempt to wail on the car."
Harry sat stunned.
"How - ?"
"Apparently, Ben was helping Mr. Weasley with it and it took a liking to him. He had to tell it that he was fine and that he didn't need its help. According to the rumours, the car drove into the Forbidden Forest afterwards."
Harry looked around, trying to spot Ben. He didn't manage to see him, although he spotted Ginny just getting in. He turned to Hermione and asked, "Where's Ben now?"
"Probably in the Owlery by this point. He was writing a letter of apology to the Weasleys."
Harry sat contemplating this. Ben caused the Weasleys' car to follow him merely because it liked him. The car was almost alive, then. That definitely sounded like something out of one of Ben's comics.
But he had no time to dwell on this; Professor McGonagall was moving along the Gryffindor table, handing out course schedules. Harry took his and saw that they had double Herbology with the Hufflepuffs first.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione left the castle together, crossed the vegetable patch, and made for the greenhouses, where the magical plants were kept.
As they neared the greenhouses they saw the rest of the class standing outside, waiting for Professor Sprout. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had only just joined them when she came striding into view across the lawn, accompanied by Gilderoy Lockhart. Professor Sprout's arms were full of bandages, and Harry spotted the Whomping Willow in the distance, several of its branches now in slings.
Professor Sprout was a squat little witch who wore a patched hat over her flyaway hair; there was usually a large amount of earth on her clothes and her fingernails would have made Aunt Petunia faint. Gilderoy Lockhart, however, was immaculate in sweeping robes of turquoise, his golden hair shining under a perfectly positioned turquoise hat with gold trimming.
"Oh, hello there!" he called, beaming around at the assembled students. "Just been showing Professor Sprout the right way to doctor a Whomping Willow! But I don't want you running away with the idea that I'm better at Herbology than she is! I just happen to have met several of these exotic plants on my travels … "
"Greenhouse three today, chaps!" said Professor Sprout, who was looking distinctly disgruntled, not at all her usual cheerful self.
There was a murmur of interest. They had only ever worked in greenhouse one before - greenhouse three housed far more interesting and dangerous plants. Professor Sprout took a large key from her belt and unlocked the door. Harry caught a whiff of damp earth and fertilizer mingling with the heavy perfume of some giant, umbrella-sized flowers dangling from the ceiling. He was about to follow Ron and Hermione inside when Lockhart's hand shot out.
"Harry! I've been wanting a word - you don't mind if he's a couple of minutes late, do you, Professor Sprout?"
Judging by Professor Sprout's scowl, she did mind, but Lockhart said, "That's the ticket," and closed the greenhouse door in her face.
"Harry," said Lockhart, his large white teeth gleaming in the sunlight as he shook his head. "Harry, Harry, Harry."
Completely nonplussed, Harry said nothing.
"When I heard - well, of course, it was all my fault. Could have kicked myself."
Harry had no idea what he was talking about. He was about to say so when Lockhart went on,
"Don't know when I've been more shocked. Flying a car to Hogwarts! Well, of course, I knew at once why you'd done it. Stood out a mile. Harry, Harry, Harry."
It was remarkable how he could show every one of those brilliant teeth even when he wasn't talking.
"Gave you a taste for publicity, didn't I?" said Lockhart. "Gave you the bug. You got onto the front page of the paper with me and you couldn't wait to do it again."
"Oh, no, Professor, I -"
"Harry, Harry, Harry," said Lockhart, reaching out and grasping his shoulder. "I understand. Natural to want a bit more once you've had that first taste - and I blame myself for giving you that, because it was bound to go to your head - but see here, young man, you can't start flying cars to try and get yourself noticed. Just calm down, all right? Plenty of time for all that when you're older. Yes, yes, I know what you're thinking! 'It's all right for him, he's an internationally famous wizard already!' But when I was twelve, I was just as much of a nobody as you are now. In fact, I'd say I was even more of a nobody! I mean, a few people have heard of you, haven't they? All that business with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!" He glanced at the lightning scar on Harry's forehead. "I know, I know - it's not quite as good as winning Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award five times in a row, as I have - but it's a start, Harry, it's a start."
He gave Harry a hearty wink and strode off. Harry stood stunned and confused for a few seconds, then, remembering he was supposed to be in the greenhouse, he opened the door and slid inside.
Professor Sprout was standing behind a trestle bench in the center of the greenhouse. About twenty pairs of different-colored ear muffs were lying on the bench. When Harry had taken his place between Ron and Hermione, she said, "We'll be repotting Mandrakes today. Now, who can tell me the properties of the Mandrake?"
To nobody's surprise, Hermione's hand was first into the air.
"Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative," said Hermione, sounding as usual as though she had swallowed the textbook. "It is used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed to their original state."
"Excellent. Ten points to Gryffindor," said Professor Sprout. "The Mandrake forms an essential part of most antidotes. It is also, however, dangerous. Who can tell me why?"
Hermione's hand narrowly missed Harry's glasses as it shot up again.
"The cry of the Mandrake is fatal to anyone who hears it," she said promptly.
"Precisely. Take another ten points," said Professor Sprout. "Now, the Mandrakes we have here are still very young."
She pointed to a row of deep trays as she spoke, and everyone shuffled forward for a better look. A hundred or so tufty little plants, purplish green in color, were growing there in rows. They looked quite unremarkable to Harry, who didn't have the slightest idea what Hermione meant by the "cry" of the Mandrake.
"Everyone take a pair of earmuffs," said Professor Sprout.
There was a scramble as everyone tried to seize a pair that wasn't pink and fluffy.
"When I tell you to put them on, make sure your ears are completely covered," said Professor Sprout. "When it is safe to remove them, I will give you the thumbs-up. Right - earmuffs on." Harry snapped the earmuffs over his ears. They shut out sound completely. Professor Sprout put the pink, fluffy pair over her own ears, rolled up the sleeves of her robes, grasped one of the tufty plants firmly, and pulled hard.
Harry let out a gasp of surprise that no one could hear.
Instead of roots, a small, muddy, and extremely ugly baby popped out of the earth. The leaves were growing right out of his head. He had pale green, mottled skin, and was clearly bawling at the top of his lungs.
Professor Sprout took a large plant pot from under the table and plunged the Mandrake into it, burying him in dark, damp compost until only the tufted leaves were visible. Professor Sprout dusted off her hands, gave them all the thumbs-up, and removed her own earmuffs.
As our Mandrakes are only seedlings, their cries won't kill yet," she said calmly as though she'd just done nothing more exciting than water a begonia. "However, they will knock you out for several hours, and as I'm sure none of you want to miss your first day back, make sure your earmuffs are securely in place while you work. I will attract your attention when it is time to pack up.
"Four to a tray - there is a large supply of pots here - compost in the sacks over there - and be careful of the Venemous Tentacula, it's teething."
She gave a sharp slap to a spiky, dark red plant as she spoke, making it draw in the long feelers that had been inching sneakily over her shoulder.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were joined at their tray by a curly-haired Hufflepuff boy Harry knew by sight but had never spoken to.
"Justin Finch-Fletchley," he said brightly, shaking Harry by the hand. "Know who you are, of course, the famous Harry Potter … And you're Hermione Granger - always top in everything" (Hermione beamed as she had her hand shaken too) "- and Ron Weasley. Wasn't that your flying car?"
Ron didn't smile. It seems he was still trying to process the events of last night.
"That Lockhart's something, isn't he?" said Justin happily as they began filling their plant pots with dragon dung compost. "Awfully brave chap. Have you read his books? I'd have died of fear if Id been cornered in a telephone booth by a werewolf, but he stayed cool and - zap - just fantastic.
"My name was down for Eton, you know. I can't tell you how glad I am I came here instead. Of course, Mother was slightly disappointed, but since I made her read Lockhart's books I think she's begun to see how useful it'll be to have a fully trained wizard in the family … "
After that they didn't have much of a chance to talk. Their earmuffs were back on and they needed to concentrate on the Mandrakes. Professor Sprout had made it look extremely easy, but it wasn't. The Mandrakes didn't like coming out of the earth, but didn't seem to want to go back into it either. They squirmed, kicked, flailed their sharp little fists, and gnashed their teeth; Harry spent ten whole minutes trying to squash a particularly fat one into a pot.
By the end of the class, Harry, like everyone else, was sweaty, aching, and covered in earth. Everyone traipsed back to the castle for a quick wash and then the Gryffindors hurried off to Transfiguration.
Professor McGonagall's classes were always hard work, but today was especially difficult. Everything Harry had learned last year seemed to have leaked out of his head during the summer. He was supposed to be turning a beetle into a button, but all he managed to do for a while was give his beetle a lot of exercise as it scuttled over the desktop avoiding his wand.
Harry was relieved to hear the lunch bell. His brain felt like a wrung sponge. Everyone filed out of the classroom and went down to lunch.
"What've we got this afternoon?" said Harry.
"Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione at once.
"Why," demanded Ron, seizing her schedule, "have you outlined all Lockhart's lessons in little hearts?"
Hermione snatched the schedule back, blushing furiously.
They finished lunch and went outside into the overcast courtyard. Hermione sat down on a stone step and buried her nose in Voyages with Vampires again. Harry and Ron stood talking about Quidditch for several minutes before Harry became aware that he was being closely watched. Looking up, he saw the very small, mousy-haired boy he'd seen trying on the Sorting Hat last night staring at Harry as though transfixed. He was clutching what looked like an ordinary Muggle camera, and the moment Harry looked at him, he went bright red.
"All right, Harry? I'm - I'm Colin Creevey," he said breathlessly, taking a tentative step forward. "I'm in Gryffindor, too. D'you think - would it be all right if - can I have a picture?" he said, raising the camera hopefully.
"A picture?" Harry repeated blankly.
"So I can prove I've met you," said Colin Creevey eagerly, edging further forward. "I know all about you. Everyone's told me. About how you survived when You-Know-Who tried to kill you and how he disappeared and everything and how you've still got a lightning scar on your forehead" (his eyes raked Harry's hairline) "and a boy in my dormitory said if I develop the film in the right potion, the pictures'll move." Colin drew a great shuddering breath of excitement and said, "It's amazing here, isn't it? I never knew all the odd stuff I could do was magic till I got the letter from Hogwarts. My dad's a milkman, he couldn't believe it either. So I'm taking loads of pictures to send home to him. And it'd be really good if I had one of you" - he looked imploringly at Harry - "maybe your friend could take it and I could stand next to you? And then, could you sign it?"
"Signed photos? You're giving out signed photos, Potter?"
Loud and scathing, Draco Malfoy's voice echoed around the courtyard. He had stopped right behind Colin, flanked, as he always was at Hogwarts, by his large and thuggish cronies, Crabbe and Goyle.
"Everyone line up!" Malfoy roared to the crowd. "Harry Potter's giving out signed photos!"
"No, I'm not," said Harry angrily, his fists clenching. "Shut up, Malfoy."
"Really, cousin," a very familiar voice drawled from behind Malfoy. "You must have some … deficiencies if you can't hear words properly. But that makes sense, I suppose. Being too closely related to anyone you marry would cause … problems."
Malfoy and his cronies whirled around to find Ben standing behind them, staring at Malfoy with a distinctly unimpressed look. Harry was still trying to process the fact that Ben and Malfoy were cousins.
"Jealousy doesn't become you, cousin," Ben continued, saying the last word with contempt. "Indeed, you're embarrassing your own house's ideals, being positively, Gryffindor, in action."
Malfoy colored red. "Jealous?" hissed Malfoy as the courtyard listened in. "Of what? I don't want a foul scar right across my head, thanks. I don't think getting your head cut open makes you that special, myself."
Crabbe and Goyle were sniggering stupidly.
"No," Ben responded. "You're jealous of his fame, which is stupid … unless you want your parents dead."
Complete silence followed that statement. Ben shot Harry a look of apology before focusing back on Malfoy. Colin looked completely shell shocked and apologetic, apparently horrified at his own lack of thought on the subject. Crabbe and Goyle looked to Malfoy as though asking him for directions. Malfoy's face was warring between going pale and red.
"What's all this, what's all this?" Gilderoy Lockhart was striding toward them, his turquoise robes swirling behind him. He appeared to catch sight of Colin's camera just as he asked "Who's jealous of what?"
Harry started to speak but he was cut short as Lockhart flung an arm around his shoulders and thundered jovially, "Shouldn't have asked! We meet again, Harry!"
Pinned to Lockhart's side and burning with humiliation, Harry saw Malfoy slide smirking yet still a little pale back into the crowd as Ben was pushed away.
"Come on then, Mr. Creevey," said Lockhart, beaming at Colin. "A double portrait, can't do better than that, and we'll both sign it for you."
Colin fumbled for his camera and took the picture as the bell rang behind them, signaling the start of afternoon classes.
"Off you go, move along there," Lockhart called to the crowd, and he set off back to the castle with Harry, who was wishing he knew a good Vanishing Spell, still clasped to his side.
"A word to the wise, Harry," said Lockhart paternally as they entered the building through a side door. "I covered up for you back there with young Creevey - if he was photographing me, too, your schoolmates won't think you're setting yourself up so much … "
Deaf to Harry's stammers, Lockhart swept him down a corridor lined with staring students and up a staircase.
"Let me just say that handing out signed pictures at this stage of your career isn't sensible - looks a tad bigheaded, Harry, to be frank. There may well come a time when, like me, you'll need to keep a stack handy wherever you go, but" - he gave a little chortle - "I don't think you're quite there yet."
They had reached Lockhart's classroom and he let Harry go at last. Harry yanked his robes straight and headed for a seat at the very back of the class, where he busied himself with piling all seven of Lockhart's books in front of him, so that he could avoid looking at the real thing.
The rest of the class came clattering in, and Ron and Hermione sat down on either side of Harry as Ben sat in front of them.
"You could've fried an egg on your face," said Ron. "You'd better hope Creevey doesn't meet Ginny, or they'll be starting a Harry Potter fan club."
"Shut up," snapped Harry. The last thing he needed was for Lockhart to hear the phrase "Harry Potter fan club".
When the whole class was seated, Lockhart cleared his throat loudly and silence fell. He reached forward, picked up Neville Longbottom's copy of Travels with Trolls, and held it up to show his own, winking portrait on the front.
"Me," he said, pointing at it and winking as well. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"
He waited for them to laugh; a few people smiled weakly.
"I see you've all bought a complete set of my books - well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about - just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in -"
When he had handed out the test papers he returned to the front of the class and said, "You have thirty minutes - start - now!"
Harry looked down at his paper and read:
1. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?
2. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?
3. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?
On and on it went, over three sides of paper, right down to:
54. When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?
Half an hour later, Lockhart collected the papers and rifled through them in front of the class.
"Tut, tut - hardly any of you remembered that my favorite color is lilac. I say so in Year with the Yeti. And a few of you need to read Wanderings with Werewolves more carefully - I clearly state in chapter twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples - though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogdeds Old Firewhisky!"
He gave them another roguish wink. Ron was now staring at Lockhart with an expression of disbelief on his face; Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, who were sitting in front, were shaking with silent laughter. Hermione, on the other hand, was listening to Lockhart with rapt attention. Ben appeared to be banging his head softly on the desk, but sat upright when his name was mentioned.
" … Mr. Black seems to have confused most of the books with others. I never said anything about an egg man or a walrus in my books and I've never taken honey from a tree."
Many of the muggle raised in the classroom started giggling as they heard that. Harry noticed Hermione looked rather scandalized that Ben didn't take the test seriously. Harry doddled a few runes from a book at the Williams house of his test before he handed it in. He heard Ben softly goan, "By the Beatles, just start the -"
"Well, she was just seventeen," Lockhart started singing, suddenly, startling everyone in the classroom. "You know what I mean, And the way she looked, Was way beyond compare … "
Muggle raised students in the classroom all started laughing as Lockhart tried desperately to undo what effect had caused him to start singing music by the Beatles. Hermione was further scandalized, glaring at Ben. Ben himself, Harry noted through his laughter, was just as baffled as everyone else by this turn of events. By the end of the first song, everybody was laughing and a few were singing along. This continued through the rest of the lesson, not ending even as the bell rang. After everyone had left the classroom, Hermione cornered Ben.
"What did you do?!" Hermione yelled at Ben, causing him to flinch.
"I don't know," Ben said. "I wrote out as many Beatles lyrics as I could remember on my test and a rune scheme to make him remember it at random intervals. I didn't intend for him to keep singing."
"Er," Harry said, realizing something. Ben, Ron, and Hermione all turned to face him. "I did doddle a few runes on my test as well, d'you think … ?"
The other three looked at him before Ron and Ben burst out laughing. Hermione was still frowning in disapproval.
AN: So, how's everyone doing in this time of crisis? I hope well. As of right know, my schedule hasn't changed, although I hope to increase the amount of writing that I do if I do end up being quarantined. Once I get to my own original writing fully, I think I'm going to speed up the timeframe of this story (around 5 chapters per year, maybe) but for now, I'm choosing to not to pull the story completely off the rails. That may be a sequel, however, due to the fact that Harry would already know (or thinks he knows) what's going to happen.
Uploaded Mar. 20th, 2020