Like always, Professor McGonagall's classes were always hard work, but today, it seemed, was really difficult. Everything I had learned last year seemed to have leaked out of my head during the summer, and it took me loads of attempts to turn a beetle into a button. I spent most of the time giving the beetle exercise as it ran from the tip of my wand. Harry was having the same problem.
Ron, however, was having far worse problems. He had patched up his wand with some borrowed Spellotape, but it seemed to be damaged beyond repair. It kept crackling and sparking at odd moments, and every time Ron tried to transfigure his beetle it engulfed him in thick grey smoke which smelled strangely of rotten eggs. Unable to see what he was doing, he accidentally squashed his beetle with his elbow and had to ask for a new one. To say Professor McGonagall wasn't pleased would be an understatement. And I thought her mouth couldn't get any thinner.
It felt a whole weight had lifted off my shoulders when I heard the bell for lunch. My brain felt as though it was going to explode. Everyone filed out of the classroom except me, Harry, and Ron. Ron was whacking his wand furiously on the desk. The sight would look funny but I felt bad for him.
"Stupid...useless...thing..." Ron said in between in each whack.
"Write home for another one," I suggested, as the wand let off a volley of bangs like a firecracker.
"Oh yeah, and get another Howler back," Ron hissed, stuffing his now hissing wand into his bag. "It's your own fault your wand got snapped-"
We went down to lunch, where Ron's mood was not improved by Hermione showing us the handful of perfect coat buttons she had produced in Transfiguration. Show off. I only managed to produce two throughout the whole lesson because my beetle kept running off.
"What've we got this afternoon?" Harry asked, quickly changing the subject before Ron could anger Hermione with his comments.
"Defence Against the Dark Arts," Hermione told us at once.
Ugh. That means we have Lockhart.
"Why," demanded Ron, taking her timetable, "have you outlined all Lockhart's lessons in little hearts?"
Hermione snatched the timetable back, flushing furiously. I raised my eyebrow at her and folded my arms.
"Don't tell me you like that big headed freak too?"
Hermione huffed. "He's not big headed! He's amazing! He's a-"
"Fraud," I cut her off.
"He's not a fraud," she glares at me.
"Oh please, there's no way he's done all that stuff! He's too busy thinking about himself to actually defeat a werewolf!"
Hermione sighs. "But-"
"No buts - you continue to like the fraud, but I'm sticking to my guns," I say. "You watch, the truth will come out eventually"
We 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. I sat next to her and joined in on Ron's and Harry's conversation about Quidditch. We chatted for several minutes before Harry's eyes looked up, looking behind me. I turned around and saw the very same mousey-haired boy we'd saw trying on the Sorting Hat last night, he was staring at Harry like he was transfixed. I giggled, he looked to be carrying an ordinary Muggle camera, and the moment Harry looked at him, he went bright red making me giggle again. Looks like Harry has a fan.
"All right, Harry? I'm - I'm Colin Creevey," he said breathlessly, taking a tentative step forward. Yep, Harry defiantly has a fan. How cute! At least it's not Ginny... nope, I won't go there. "I'm in Gryffindor too. D'you think - would it all right if - can I have a picture?" he said raising the camera hopefully.
I smiled, nudged Hermione and pointed at Colin before whispering, "Harry has a fan!"
"Aww!" she giggled
"A picture?" Harry repeated blankly after a few moments of silence.
"So I can prove I've met you," Colin explained eagerly, edging further forwards. "I know all about you. Everyone's told me." he quickly looked at me and his eyes winded. "And you! How you're Bella Black and you and Harry share a special bond that no one can break! Some think there's more to it, but I guess we have to wait until we find out, right?"
"Er..." I say shocked. "My names Swan, not Black..."
Really, after all, he's just told you, you have to correct your name! Way to go Bella!
Colin shrugged like it didn't matter before looking back at Harry. "Anyway, Harry, everyone's told me all about you. 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 brilliant 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 - maybe your friend could take it and I could stand next to you? And then, could you sign it?"
He's just too cute! I wanna gobble him up!
"Signed photos?" Ugh...I knew that voice anywhere..."You're giving out signed photos, Potter?"
Loud and scathing, Draco Malfoy's voice echoes around the courtyard. He had stopped right behind Colin, flanked, as usual, by his large and thuggish cronies, Crabbe and Goyle.
"Everyone queue up!" Malfoy roared to the crowd and I clenched my fists. "Harry Potter's giving out signed photos!"
"No, he's not," I hiss standing up and marching over until I was face-to-face with him. "Shut up, Malfoy"
Aannnddd hello protectiveness that only comes out around Harry!
"You're just jealous," piped up Colin and I wanted to high-five him.
"Jealous?" Malfoy chuckled, and he didn't have to shout anymore since the half of the courtyard was listening. "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.
"Maybe, maybe not," I shrug. "But Harry's scar show's that he's a survivor which is more than I can say about you"
Ron folded his arms. "Eat slugs, Malfoy,"
Crabbe stopped laughing and started rubbing his conker-like knuckles in a menacing way. I glared at him, you lay a finger on Ron and watch what happens to you!
"Be careful, Weasley," Malfoy sneered. "You don't want to start any trouble or your mummy'll have to come and take you away from school." He put on a shrill, piercing voice. "If you put another toe out of line-"
A knot of Slytherin fifth-years nearby laughed loudly at this.
I watched as Ron whipped out his Spellotaped wand, but Hermione shut Voyages with Vampires with a snap and whispered, "Look out!"
Groaning, I spotted Gilderoy Lockhart striding towards us, his turquoise robes swirling behind him.
"What's all this, what's all this? Who's giving out signed photos?"
Trust him to say that, like I said, FRAUD and BIG HEADED!
Harry was about 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!" please don't notice me...please don't notice me..." Ah! Miss Swan! Hello!"
Darn, it!
Gilderoy grabbed my shoulders and pulled me next to him so I was in between him and Harry. I saw Malfoy smirking back in the crowd.
"Come on, then Mr Creevey," Lockhart said, beaming at Colin. "A triple portrait, can't say fairer than that, and we'll all sign it for you"
Big headed freak say what?
Colin fumbled for his camera and I struggled to get out of Lockhart's grasp but he held me tightly in place. This is child cruelty, right? He wasn't allowed to do this, right? Colin took the picture as the bell rang behind us, signalling the start of afternoon classes. SAVED BY THE BELL! Literally!
"Off you go, move along there," Lockhart called to the crowd and he set off back to the castle with Harry and me. I was wishing I knew a good vanishing spell as I was still stuck to his side.
"A word to the wise, Harry," Lockhart said paternally as we entered the building through a side door. "I covered up for you back there with young Creevy-" yeah and dragged me into it. "If he was photographing me too, your schoolfellows won't think you're setting yourself up so much..."
I tuned out whatever Lockhart was saying to Harry and concentrated on escaping his grasp. What was this dude, a heavyweight lifter? Gee! It was when we reached Lockhart's class when he finally let go of me. I huffed, straightened out my robes and hurried to my seat with Harry following.
"You could've fried an egg on your faces," Ron said as he sat next to Harry and Hermione next to me. I pulled out all seven of Lockhart's books out of my bag. "You'd better hope Creevey doesn't meet Ginny, they'll be starting a Harry Potter fan club,"
Aannddd.... my mood is ruined more. Thanks, Ron!
"Shut up," Harry snapped.
When the whole class was seated, Lockhart cleared his throat loudly and silence fell. He reached forward, picked Neville Longbottom's copy of Travels with Trolls and held it up to show his own, winking portrait on the front. Has anyone got a pillow I could borrow? This class is going to be a bore...
"Me," he said, pointing at it and winking as well. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honourary Member of the Dark Forces Defence League and five times 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 us to laugh; a few people smiled weakly and I huffed. Can this be over already?
"I see you've all brought 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..."
And I haven't read one! This is going to be fun!
When he handed out the test papers, he returned to the front of the class and said, "You have thirty minutes. Start - now!"
I looked at my paper and groaned.
1. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favourite colour?
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?
Like I said, this class was going to be a bore.