Rory Potter, the Girl Who Lived

The New Teacher

~~~~~~~~~~

​​​​​After Herbology, a first year approaches Harry and I and starts to talk quickly, "Hi, I'm Colin Creevey, I'm a Gryffindor first year. Do you two mind if I take a picture? You know, to prove I met​​​​​ you? The famous Potter twins! And do you think you could sign it?!"
         "Signed photos?" a voice says loudly. "You're giving out signed photos, Potter?"
         It's Draco, and somehow I know he's not talking to me, but to Harry, who protests, flushing in anger.
         "Everybody line up!" Draco roars over the crowd's bustle. "Harry Potter's giving out signed photos!"
          "I am not!" Harry snaps irritably.
​​​​​​          "You're just jealous!" Colin pipes up.
          "Jealous!?" Draco spits, not shouting anymore; everyone's listening in now. "Of a scar? Why would I want a nasty scar on my forehead? It doesn't make me that special, does it? Getting my head cut open?"
          Anger flares within me. Whether I think he's attractive or not, nobody messes with my friends and family. I march up to him and open my mouth to snap at him, "You think you're better than everyone else just because of your name, don't you? Because you've got more money than other people - "
          A hand touches my shoulder. Lockhart. He's already got my brother clamped to his side. Harry looks like he wants to murder the man, and honestly I feel like I want to as well. He's a lunatic.
          "What's going on?" he asks. "The Potter twins are giving out signed photos?"
          He throws an arm around both Harry and I, then grins and gestures for Colin to take a picture. I struggle to get away, and the first year boy snaps the picture. The bell rings, saving us from even more embarrassment, and the crowd slowly disperses. Unfortunately, I have Defence Against the Dark Arts, so I've still got to face Lockhart. I give Draco an angry glare, and he cringes, then I run to class.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Me," Lockhart says, pointing at one of the many pictures of himself plastered to the wall. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence 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 waits for a laugh, but gets only a few annoyed smiles. Hermione turns to me and whispers, "Oh, isn't he amazing?"
          I look at her like she's insane and say, "He's bloody insane, that's what."
          Lockhart ends up giving us a quiz about stupid things mentioned in his books, and then collects it a half an hour later. 
          "Tut, tut - hardly any of you knew that my favourite colour is lilac . . . but Miss Granger did," Lockhart says, examining Hermione's paper. "Full marks in fact. Where are you, Miss Granger? Stand up, please."
          Hermione stands up, trembling.
         "Excellent! Ten points to Gryffindor!" he says.
          Hermione blushes and sits back down. Lockhart looks at another paper, which has handwriting I recognize as my own.
           "Now, who is this? Miss Potter. Where are you? Stand up please," he asks.
          I stand up, a complete deadpan look on my face.
​​​​​​          "Miss Potter, you did not do your reading in advance. You seem to know nothing about me. I also don't appreciate this picture you drew of me, either."

~~~~~~~~~~

Later in the class, Lockhart reveals a cage full of freshly caught Cornish Pixies. They're electric blue and about eight inches high, with shrill voices that make my head twinge with pain. They shake and rattle the cage when he removes the covering.
           "Let's see what you make of them!" Lockhart exclaims, pulling open the cage.
          The pixies shoot out, giggling with glee.
          They wreak absolute havoc. Ripping out book pages, pulling on people's robes. A few of them seize Neville by the ears, lift him up, and then hang him in the chandelier. Still more of them upend wastepaper baskets, smash ink bottles, and a several tug at my hair as I swing a book randomly, hoping to hit one or two.
          "Come now, round them up!" Lockhart says, pulling out his wand. "Peskipicksi Pesternomi!"
          A pixie grabs his wand and throws it out a broken window. Lockhart's eyes go wide. Someone flees the room, and soon its just Harry, Ron, Nevile, Hermione, Lockhart and I. Lockhart looks at us, then says, "I'll ask you five to nip the rest of them back in their cage."
          Then he runs out of the room. I grab an unbroken ink bottle and anticipate where a pixie is going to fly, then throw the bottle and knock it from the air. I catch it and stuff it in the cage.
          "Immobulous!" Hermione shouts, and the pixies freeze in the air. Harry and Ron help her shove them into the cage while I use the combined power of my wand and my necklace to get Neville down from the chandelier.

~~~~~~~~~~

We head to lunch late, Harry, Ron and I insulting Lockhart with all we've got. Hermione halfheartedly defends him, but there's no convincing the three of us.
          "By the way, Rory, what did you draw of him?" Ron asks with a mouthful of his lunch.
          "Oh," I giggle, my whole mood changing at once. "It was rather unpretty. I made his eyes bulging and his nose too big. I gave him beaver teeth, too, I think."
         The boys guffaw, but Hermione gives me a disapproving look as she hurries herself into one of Lockhart's books.