Pretty Man
Gilderoy Lockhart paces before the class. Hermione and a majority of the other girls hand onto his every word. Though you, Harry, and Ron eye the large, covered cage rattling mysteriously on his desk
"Let me introduce you to your new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher. Me. Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League and five times winner of Witch weekly's Most Charming-Smile Award. But I don't talk about that-"
"Sure seems like you are," You mouth under your breath and unluck for you he catches it.
"Ms. Potter, right?" He smiles up at you.
"Yes?"
"I'm just trying to introduce myself. You all are so lucky, you know?"
"I'm sure we are. So lucky to be basked in your presence," You sarcastically remark.
He smiles, not picking up on your sarcasm, "I'm glad you realize that. As a celebrity yourself, you should realize the importance of confidence."
"Confidence? More like ego," You say under your breath, but he doesn't listen, choosing to ignore you, but Ron and Harry heard you and they chuckled.
He was so close you could feel his breath, but then he stands up, smiling and goes back to the front, "What was I saying... Yes! Charming-Smiles I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her."
Though by the point he finally made the joke, the hype was over.
"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..." Lockhart begins to circulate papers.
You examine the questions, Harry and Ron also just as confused as you. Ron turns to you, pointing at the paper.
"Have you read these questions? They're all about him."
"What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?" You roll your eyes.
"What is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?" Ron says, chuckling.
"When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday and what would his ideal gift be?"
"This guy is a joke," You shake your head.
"You're telling me," Ron agrees.
"You have thirty minutes. Start- Now!"
"Yeah, I'm not doing this."
"You can't not do it-" Hermione says, but you ignore her.
"You underestimate me, Hermione. Watch me."
"Alright, quails down!" Lockhart goes through all the tests, before stopping. "One's blank?" He shows it, before looking at you, "It's okay. I can take a joke."
"Can he?" You whisper to Ron, who chuckles.
"Tut, tut," He moves on, "Hardly any of you remembered my favorite color is Lilac," He looks up at Hermione, "But Miss Hermione Granger knew that my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair care potions. Good girl."
"Not really a secret is it?" Ron asks.
You turn towards Hermione, before whispering under your breath, "Kiss ass."
Hermione beams at Lockheart's compliment. He suddenly turns back to the desk and walks towards the cage-rattling on his desk. "Now... be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourself facing your own worst fears in this room."
"I'm looking at it now," You could hear Malfoy joke with his friends. You may have hated the guy, but he did have some funny commentary from time to time.
"Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here..." With a showman's flair, Lockheart turns slowly to the cage, "I must ask you not to scream; It might provoke them."
A pale Neville draws back, while Harry and Ron lean forward. Lockhart lets the tension build, then he whips off the cover. You were expecting a monster, but were heavily disappointed when seeing several electric blue creatures. Eight inches tall, with pointed faces and wings, they rattle the bars and pulled bizarre faces at the students.
"Cornish pixies?"
"Freshly caught Cornish Pixies."
Unable to control himself, Seamus starts laughing.
"Potter!" You and your brother turn to face Malfoy, but he was looking at you, "Those are what fairies look like."
You roll your eyes, and turn back to Lockhart.
"Actually, Mr. Malfoy, these are Pixies, not fairies."
"What's the difference?" He jokes, but Lockhart doesn't answer, because he knew Malfoy didn't actually care.
"As I was saying, these pixies can be devilishly tricky little blighters. Let's see what you make of them now!" Lockhart flings open the cage and instantly the pixies rocket out, spraying you all with ink bottles, breaking beakers and shredding books. Two seize Neville by the ears, but they ultimately rip them off and swing them in the air, tossing them back and forth. They giggle and laugh among themselves. "Come on now, round them up! Why, they're only Pixies." He thrashes his hands, "Peskipiksi Pesternomi!" Though, the spell has no effect. Infact, a particular obnoxious pixie makes a face, biting Lockhart's hand. Lockhart quickly joins the stampede out the door.
"You guys can handle this, right?" He gestures to you, Ron, Hermione, and your brother. He slams the door and he's gone. You hear Ron swat a pixie that was gnawing at his ear.
"What do we do now?"
"He's crazy!" You yell, swatting more of the pixies, trying to grab at least one of Neville's ears. "Not even a day in and I hate him."
Hermione raises her hand, which turns a bright yellow, "Immobilus!"
Neville finally grabs his ears and attaches them back on. He looks at Hermione, he face distorted, "Why is it always me?"
You all walk out, your hair askew and robes shredded.
"Can you believe that guy?" You look at your group, but Hermione is awestruck.
"I'm sure Professor Lockhart just wanted to give us hands-on experience."
"Hands on?" Your brother, stops her, grabbing her shoulders, "Hermione, he didn't have a clue what he was doing."
"Rubbish," You says, day dreamily, "Read his books. You'll see the amazing things he's done."
"What he says he's done," You remark, rolling your eyes. You then look towards Ron's covered hand, "Still can't believe they couldn't fix your hand."
"It's his magic hand. Your magic hand is harder to fix than any other body part," Hermione tells you.
You, Fred, George, Alicia, Katie, and Angelina trail behind Oliver through the courtyard, toward the distant Quidditch pitch. Several students are outside, studying.
"I spent the summer devising a whole new Quidditch program. We're going to train earlier, harder, and longer!"
"Wait- Wait-"
Oliver turns to you, looking at you, as if expecting you to say something.
"Like how much earlier"
"However earlier we need to be."
"That's what I was afraid of." You groan, running a hand through your hair.
"What the... I don't believe it!"
Crossing the courtyard from the other side are seven boys in green robes, also carrying broomsticks. In the front was some goblin looking guy. You groaned, shaking your head.
"You gotta be kidding me."
Ron looks up, and elbows Harry, who was sitting at a table with Hermione.
"Here comes trouble," You hear Oliver speak, "Clear out, Flint! I booked the pitch for Gryffindor today."
Flint smiles, holding his hands out in false surrender, "Easy, Wood. I've got a note.'"
Wood snatches the parchment from Flint's hand, while Ron, Harry, and Hermione come up to join the others. "I, Professor Severus Snape, do hereby give the Slytherin team permission to practice today, owing to the need to train their seeker," He looks up, curiously, "You've got a new Seeker? Who?"
And out steps the hypnotizingly beautiful [Much to your annoyance] Draco Malfoy.
"Malfoy."
"Y/n Potter." He snarled at you. He looks over your shoulder, spotting the forementioned trio, "Here comes your brother and boyfriend."
"To bad your boyfriends aren't here to defend you," You joke back and he snarls at you.
"Those are Nimbus Two Thousand Ones."
You turn to Ron, who was pointing at the Slytherin's brooms.
"A generous gift from Draco's father."
"I bet it was," You remark.
"A girl is told she's pretty once and thinks she can fly," Draco says, tilting his head, mocking you.
"Why aren't you the boy who cried wolf."
"You're nothing, you know?" He was now glaring at you.
"No amount of money in the world can give you talent that you lack."
"At least my parents are alive."
You froze. You felt a hand on your shoulder, but you quickly shrugged it off. You didn't know how to respond and Malfoy had a sudden flash of guilt show on his face, but only for a second. He did regret it, but he couldn't take it back; Not now.
"Knock it off Malfoy."
He turns towards Hermione, who was glaring at her.
"Shut up, Filthy Inista."
"Wow, where's the hostility coming from, Malfoy? I thought it was all good fun?"
You don't even realize everyone else's reactions. Fred and George wanted to go for Draco's throat, but Oliver holds them back. Harry seems to be the only one who doesn't understand what Draco meant.
"Save it for the match," Oliver says.
"You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!" He pulls out his hand, his broken hand, "Eat slugs." Though, it backfires and hits him instead. Your eyes widen as Ron drops to the ground. You, dropping your broomstick, and Hermione quickly rush to him.
"Are you okay, Ron?"
"Ron! Say something!
Ron opens his mouth but starts vomiting. You and Hermione quickly draw back and watch a trio of slugs dribble out of his mouth. You could hear the Slytherin's blast with laughter. You turn, glaring at the fools. They look like clowns, mocking Ron. The camera kid, Colin appears with his camera.
"Wow! Can you hold him still, Harry?" Colin asked, turning towards your brother.
"Get out of the way, Colin!" Harry turns to you and Hermione, "Let's take him to Hagrid. He'll know what to do."
"But the practice-"
Harry glares at you, with wide eyes. You turn towards the group and Oliver just shakes his head.
"You can go, Potter. Not like we're going to be able to practice today, anyway."