Lockhart
Chapter 8: Lockhart
“Filch is a WHAT?! Theo sniggered loudly and fell into a fit of riotous laughter. Draco and Blaise couldn’t blame him either—if anyone kind of deserved to be a Squib, it was Filch. The grimy caretaker was mean and had a penchant for punishing students for no good reason at all.
“I know, mate, but that wasn’t even the craziest part!” Blaise exclaimed.
“Yeah, Mrs. Norris wasn’t even dead—just petrified. We’re still not sure what that even means…” Draco trailed off.
“Let me guess, you’re headed to the library?” Theo rolled his eyes, still laughing at the revelation about Filch.
…
Draco scoured the library—skimming through dozens of books, saving his most promising lead for last. He pulled out his personal copy of Hogwarts: A History. He found some promising information when he looked into Mandrakes on a hunch that their coursework was somehow connected. After depositing the helpful Herbology book into his schoolbag, he flipped through the others he had hoped would give him more information on the Chamber itself. It took a while, but Draco knew he had read something about the Chamber of Secrets in Hogwarts: A History over the summer.
As he came to Chapter Thirteen, he finally found what he was looking for:
“The legend of the Chamber of Secrets is the most enigmatic of all tales concerning the establishing of Hogwarts. When the four greatest witches and wizards of their age, Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin, came together to establish a school for those with magical abilities, it was logical that they chose a location far away from the eyes of non-magical people due to the climate of persecution prevalent at that time.
Records show that the Hogwarts founders worked together for several years, seeking out youngsters who showed signs of magic and bringing them to the castle to be educated. However, a rift grew between Slytherin and the others when he criticised the number of students being admitted who came from non-magical families.
Slytherin believed that magical learning should be kept within all-magic families and that students not of this parentage were untrustworthy. Eventually, a serious argument arose between Slytherin and Gryffindor regarding the subject and such was the acrimony of the disagreement, Slytherin left the school for good.
The legend of the Chamber of Secrets arises from Slytherin's departure and has been the subject of debate for many centuries. The legend itself concerns a chamber supposedly constructed by Slytherin deep beneath the school that he kept a secret from the other founders and sealed so that none would be able to open it until his own true heir arrived at the school.
The story goes that when Slytherin's true heir returns they alone will be able to open the Chamber of Secrets and release the horror within - a horror that will purge the school of those whom Slytherin believed were unworthy of studying magic.
After many extensive searches of Hogwarts over the past nine hundred and fifty years, most reputable scholars agree that the existence of the Chamber of Secrets is a fanciful tale concocted by Slytheirn's supporters.
While researching this book, the author consulted the newly appointed headmaster of Hogwarts, Professor Albus Dumbledore, who stated that during his time at the school he had personally seen nothing to convince him that the legend was based on anything other than supposition.”
Draco snapped the book shut and sped to the Potions Lab to see Professor Snape.
When he neared, he could hear the Potions Master dismissing his First Year students. Draco slipped into the lab, knowing the greasy professor would soon slip into his office and not come out until dinner. If you were trying to avoid the man, he would be behind you in an instant, but if you were actually looking for him he was a total recluse.
Draco pushed past the last of the Hufflepuffs and cautiously approached Snape.
“Mr. Malfoy, I see you’ve finally let your curiosity get the better of you,” he drawled to his prized student.
“Sir?” Draco didn’t feel quite as confident as he had in the library. He may be Snape’s favorite student, but that didn’t mean the man wasn’t intimidating.
“Keep up, Draco,” the Potions Master chastised, “no, Potter did not open the Chamber of Secrets, nor did he petrify Filch’s filthy pet.” Snape turned and began erasing the simple potion instructions off the blackboard behind him.
“So who did open it?” Draco asked eagerly.
“That is yet to be seen,” he began once more, “I suggest you look at pureblood families first. Naturally, an heir to Slytherin would end up in Slytherin. Wouldn’t you agree?” Snape’s eyes snapped to Draco as he looked over his shoulder at the boy.
“It wasn’t me!” Draco gawked at the implication, but Snape waved him off dismissively.
“No, no, not you, imbecile! In fact, I don’t believe it is anyone in Slytherin, I’ve been keeping an eye out for you lot coming and going after hours. Don’t—“ he put his hand up as Draco began to protest, looking bewildered. “—now as I’m sure you can guess, Potter naturally will become the center of whatever this is that’s going on. I’m sure you’ve spent your time wisely and found the bit about the Chamber of Secrets in Hogwarts: A History?”
Draco nodded, his cheeks tinged slightly pink. The Head of House must have been keeping tabs on him as well—or maybe he just knew Draco’s habits.
“Good. Now what do you believe to reside in the Chamber?” Snape flicked his wand at the large cauldron on his desk and a flame lit underneath it. The professor began gathering a few jars of ingredients and setting them on his desk next to the cauldron.
“It doesn’t say, Sir, just that there is a horror that resides there,” Draco studiously repeated what he had read.
“Why don’t you spend the next few days thinking about just what could be hidden there and how it got out?” Snape sneered without even looking up from the cauldron beginning to bubble.
“It-it got out?” Draco couldn’t mask the fear in his voice at this revelation.
“How else did Filch’s filthy cat get petrified. It certainly is beyond Potter’s repertoire of spells, Miss Granger doesn’t have the stomach for it, and I doubt Weasley’s broken wand could’ve managed such a feat.”
“Yes, Sir.” Draco promptly left the Potions Classroom and went in search of Theo. If anyone could figure out what kind of beast did this, it would be him.
…
Draco and Blaise were rolling up their completed History of Magic essays, and Theo was measuring his parchment—hoping it would meet the required three feet in length.
“How much more is there to say about the Medieval Assembly of European Wizards? Honestly who even cares!” Theo was getting flustered as he realized his essay measured only to twenty-two inches.
“Mate, give it here,” Blaise stuck his palm out toward Theo.
Blaise skimmed Theo’s essay, correcting spelling errors with his wand as he went. “Theo, you didn’t even address the connection between the Assembly and the International Warlock Convention of 1289…”
“Oh, brilliant!” Theo snatched the parchment back out of his friend’s hands and began scratching furiously with his quill.
Draco chuckled at the exchange and pulled out a copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander that he had borrowed from the library. He flipped through a few pages before realizing he didn’t have much to go on—a creature that could petrify a person…
Of course his first thought had been the Gorgon, Medusa from Greek mythology. She was at the top of his makeshift list. He didn’t think she’d be listed in a book of beasts considering she was a mythological being, but it was worth consideration.
Draco skimmed a few pages and made notes of the ones he felt deserved cross-referencing. Theo hadn’t been much help either, aside from suggesting Draco look through that particular book. Before he made much progress, or even finished the creatures listed under the letter ‘A’, Granger walked in with her two so-called “friends”.
Theo and Blaise gave him a sympathetic look. Draco tensed, clenching his teeth and squeezing his fists until his knuckles were bone white. She scowled at him as she noticed his presence, then apparently decided to ignore his existence completely.
I can’t even have a couple hours in the library without her showing up to ruin it. She doesn’t own the place! I have just as much right to be here as she does—more even! Her and her dirty blood can go back to her precious ivory tower and leave me the bloody hell alone!
Draco grabbed his books and shoved them in his bag, slinging it over a shoulder. He stood abruptly and didn’t make any attempt to be quiet as he stomped out of the library in a similar fashion she had last left him there. Madam Pince shushed him with an angry glare, but he hardly noticed. All he felt was her eyes following his exit.
…
The young blonde Slytherin abandoned his search for “the horror within” and focused on Quidditch and getting ahead on his school work. While the latter always came easily to Draco, he could never seem to find enough hours in the day to practice both Quidditch maneuvers and spell work on top of rolls upon rolls of essays, and somewhat keeping tabs on Star-Kid Potter and his little gang.
In one of Draco’s brief reprieves from his exhausting schedule, he found himself sitting in the commonroom playing Exploding Snap with Theo, Blaise, and Vince. Greg had gone to the kitchens with Millicent and Tracey to sneak some late night snacks. The rest of the girls were in their dormitory practicing beauty charms and gossiping about who knows what.
“Glad to see Filch is finally keeping up with cleaning the dungeons,” Theo chuckled after a particularly loud SNAP!
“Wha’ d’you mean?” Vince garbled as his Manticore card’s smoke stopped fizzling.
“There’s significantly less spiders down here for starters,” Theo said looking relieved at both the revelation and that his Bowtruckle cards didn’t erupt before he could reveal them. None of them cared for the arachnids, but they were a constant nuisance in the dungeons—dark, cold, damp, and undisturbed—every spider’s dream home.
“Maybe that Kwikspell letter did help after all!” Draco laughed, tossing down a pair of Mountain Troll cards and eyeing them closely.
Blaise picked up another card as he chuckled, “Doubtful, but I’m sure it’d be comical to watch him try!”
“C’mon guys let’s go give the old Squib a good pranking—something to help him practice on! Whaddya say?” Theo offered mischievously.
“Oh, come off it mate!” Blaise waved him off, but Draco wanted a little fun, a little excitement, maybe even a little danger.
“I’m in!” Draco declared, standing up from their game and tossing his cards onto the little coffee table they had been using. On contact, three of the four cards exploded, eliciting glares and snide comments from a nearby group of Fifth Years.
“Oh, fine. Go on then,” Blaise sighed in exasperation. Vince eagerly got up as well and the four boys ventured out of the commonroom in search of the creepy caretaker.
It didn’t take long for the boys to find Filch, and as it turned out, they didn’t really need to make a mess for him to attempt to clean. Peeves had already taken care of the job. The Slytherins, still looking for trouble, continued to wander the halls. When they came to the top of the steps to the second floor corridor, Draco froze. He felt like someone was watching them, but after a quick scan of their surroundings, he couldn’t pinpoint the source.
The boys moved down the hall and Theo was first to notice they were walking in puddles of water. Blaise and Draco made eye contact—MoaningMyrtle. Neither of them were eager to listen to her howling and get caught out of bed after hours. Blaise signaled the group to stop and led them silently—well aside from Vince’s club-sized feet dragging along—to a different corridor and back down another set of stairs.
As they passed the kitchens, the little gang bumped into Greg, Millie, and Tracey climbing through the portrait of fruit. Their hands were filled with fried turkey legs, a bowl of mashed potatoes and gravy, a tray of treacle fudge, and several small pies of various fillings.
Draco’s mouth instantly began to water, as did Vince’s, Blaise’s, and Theo’s. Before any of them could act on their emerging hunger, a set of black sweeping robes appeared first, partnered with a set of green tartan dressing robes.
“Snape and McGonagall—hide!” Theo whispered, tugging Blaise with him, as he was nearest. Draco grabbed Vince and Greg by their collars, and the girls were already hiding behind a large tapestry.
If the two professors had seen or heard them, they didn’t let on, which would’ve been unusual for these particular staff members.
“Oh, Severus, I know you don’t like the man, but you really should give him a chance,” McGonagall admonished.
“Minerva, do you not recall his reckless tomfoolery during his last stay here? It was utter chaos! Never mind I wasn’t even here to see the last couple of years—“ Snape complained almost like a student again himself.
“He wasn’t that bad! Gilderoy has always been bright, and if Albus thinks it wise for him to be here, he must have a reason,” she interrupted.
“Not that bad?! He sent himself over eight-hundred valentines one year!” Snape sneered at the memory. “They had to shut down the whole Great Hall because of all the owl droppings and feathers!”
It took all of their self-control not to burst out laughing like hyenas at that.
“That stench did stick around for quite some time…” she agreed.
“Not to mention when he carved his own autograph into the Quidditch pitch like he was Merlin’s gift to the whole bloody school,” Snape continued.
“—which he got a weeks’ worth of detentions for, might I add!” McGonagall defended, but Snape scoffed dismissively.
“Let’s also not forget my Seventh Year, he made a hologram of his face and shot it into the sky mocking the Dark Mark! And just how many detentions did he get for that? Hmm?” The Potions Master was growing more and more bitter with each recollection.
“I understand your frustrations, Severus. I think he’s a daft phony too! But unless there’s proof, you know we can’t just go accusing him seriously based on his school days,” McGonagall said clearly frustrated.
It was odd seeing the two professors chatting as though they were friends. The opposing Heads of House always seemed to be trying to get under each other’s skin, but maybe that was just the nature of their work relationship. When Quidditch rivalries and meddling students weren’t intervening, they were quite cordial.
Draco couldn’t help but compare the two professors' relationship to his own with Granger, though he could never imagine Severus Snape calling Professor McGonagall anything untoward, even if she had happened to be Muggleborn.
As soon as Snape and McGonagall had passed without incident, the seven Slytherins silently snaked their way down the corridor and another set of stairs to the dungeons safely. Once back inside the now empty commonroom, they all let out a sigh of relief they hadn’t known they’d been holding.
Theo and Tracey fell into fits of laughter first and the rest quickly joined in.
“Lockhart’s a fake!” Draco cackled.
“He sent himself EIGHT-HUNDRED valentines!” Blaise sniggered, “How the bloody hell did he find the time to make all of those?!”
Tracey and Greg fell to the floor laughing harder and Millie leaned against Vince for support trying to catch her breath.
…
When the Second-Year Slytherins finally had Defence Against the Dark Arts again, Lockhart was overjoyed at their smiling faces and jovial attitudes. Little did he know, it had nothing to do with his teaching and more to do with the ridiculous egotistical shortcomings of his youth.
Since the disaster he had had during the Gryffindors’ first lesson, Lockhart had stuck to lively re-enacting his ‘great feats’ of heroism verbatim from his books each class period. Originally, it was entertaining to watch a professor make a complete fool of themselves, but it had gotten quite boring as most of his stories had already been told twice or had been assigned as reading homework.
Today’s rendition of Wanderings With Werewolves was rather repetitive and Draco found himself watching the freezing rain patter against the windows as his mind wandered.
“…I approached the edge of the sleepy little village of Waga Waga, when suddenly I heard—“
”A wily howl ripple through the trees of the darkened forest before me.” This class is such a joke. I wonder who actually came up with this story…did it even happen at all?…Maybe he just killed the wizard who actually confronted the werewolf…
“…I approached the beast with my wand raised and yelled Coactus Reverti Humus!”
“The Homorphus Charm worked just as I had planned and the werewolf transformed back into a man once more…”
Theo raised his hand in mock excitement—a near perfect imitation of Granger, “Professor Lockhart, how did you come up with such an incantation and what is the wand movement?”
“Oh, yes, thank you for your question ah…er Mister Nock…but no question until the end please!” Lockhart looked rather flustered at the uncharacteristically impromptu question. The man smoothed his periwinkle robes and resumed his rehearsed tale, “…He was cured! Yes, yes, thank you! Please hold your applause until class is over—“ Lockhart put his hands up in an attempt at faux humility, but no one was interested in applauding the nitwit.
The room remained silent, and just as Lockhart was finishing up, the bell rang to signal the end of the period. The relieved students grabbed their things and stampeded for the door. Once they made it safely away from that dunce of a “professor” their laughter echoed through the corridors.