Well, I've been clocking in a lot of Diablo time in lately, but decided I should get writing.
I don't have my copy of Chamber of Secrets with me, and the HP Lexicon was slow, so I just made up the various questions and achievements from Lockhart.
I don't own Harry Potter. And unless Rowling sells the rights for $5 or less, I never will.
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Chapter 2 - Ego, Party of One
By the time September rolled around, Harry was glad that they would be leaving for Hogwarts. Morgan's near-constant crying had led to three months of sleepless nights, and on Harry's pale complexion, it was beginning to show.
Michael, on the other hand, was such a deep sleeper that he probably didn't hear anything.
After giving their parents and sister a quick goodbye, the two brothers climbed up into the Hogwarts Express, where they went into the first empty compartment they could find, then Harry rolled up his robe for a pillow and curled up to catch the sleep that he was robbed of for so long.
Within minutes, Hermione and Blaise showed up in their compartment. Michael noticed that Blaise was wearing an emerald where Hermione gave her a ruby for Christmas, and Hermione was wearing a sapphire in the same style.
"Hey," Michael whispered, scooting over so they could sit.
"What's wrong with Harry?" Hermione whispered in concern. Michael smirked, amused.
"We have a baby sister who kept him up all night for the past three months," he said, trying to contain his laughter. Hermione and Blaise also giggled at Harry's predicament, and spent the rest of the ride in relative silence.
When they reached Hogsmeade station that night, they bypassed the long line of first years and went to the carts that would take them to Hogwarts. Harry, having just woken up from what he felt was a not-long-enough nap, was too tired to care about the thestrals pulling the carts.
When the reached the Great Hall, the Marauders quickly went to the Gryffindor table, where Harry propped his head up on his arm and promptly fell asleep again, not listening to the Sorting Hat's new song.
Harry was shook awake just as McGonnagal read, "Granger, Emmaline!" and Hermione's sister nervously walked up to the older witch. The Sorting Hat considered its possibilities for a few seconds, and then announced, "Gryffindor!" Applause erupted from the red table as Emma excitedly ran to her sister.
After all the first years had been sorted, Dumbledore stood up to address the students.
"For those of you who are coming here for the first time, welcome to Hogwarts!" he announced. "And for those of you returning, welcome back. Firstly, we have a new member of our staff. Professor Gilderoy Lockhart will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this year!" Lockhart stood up and flashed his blindingly-white teeth. There was scattered applause from the students, and swooning from virtually every girl other than Hermione and Blaise, who wrinkled her nose in disgust. "As usual, there is to be no magic in the corridors, and the Forbidden Forest is just that: forbidden. Now, you are hungry, so please, tuck in!"
While Michael ate with gusto, Harry just kind of nibbled at his food, not awake enough to be hungry. After the last of the dessert had been cleared, Dumbledore stood up again.
"Now that you are fed and watered, you must be tired. Prefects, please escort the students to their common rooms." The four tables simultaneously stood up and followed the prefects back to their respective common rooms.
"Alright, see you tomorrow," Harry yawned as soon as they reached the Gryffindor common room. The other three Marauders waved at him wordlessly as they watched him ascend the stairs.
"He's really wiped out, isn't he?" Blaise asked. Michael simply nodded.
The next day, Harry was refreshed and a lot more pleasant company to be around, and the Marauders laughed and talked like normal. When the Daily Prophet came for Blaise, she scanned the front article and burst out laughing.
"What's so funny?" Harry asked, eating a piece of toast. Tears in her eyes, Blaise handed him the paper. He saw the image of the same woman who refused to accept Sirius' innocence flashing a sickeningly sweet smile and a bold headline:
SENIOR UNDERSECRETARY DIES IN TRAGIC ACCIDENT
By Matthew Lowe
Last night, Senior Undersecretary for the Minister of Magic, Dolores Umbridge (45), died last night due to a freak accident. She was having afternoon tea with Minister Fudge (47) and his wife when she started choking, and died several seconds later. An autopsy revealed that a bee had flown into her mouth and stung her in the back of her throat. Amos Diggory has been appointed as standing Senior Undersecretary until such a time as a new permanent one can be appointed. This journalist hopes that whoever is appointed will be more forward thinking than Madame Umbridge.
For info on Madame Umbridge's campaign against werewolves and other non-human races, turn to page 7.
After handing it to Michael, who had a good laugh over it, Harry turned to Blaise.
"Can I send this to my parents? Dad and Uncle Moony will get a good kick out of this." Blaise nodded.
"Give me the crossword back and you can send it." Harry pulled out the game page and rolled the newspaper up to send to his parents later. A few minutes later, they were passed out their time sheets, and were not thrilled by what they saw.
"Defense at 9:30?" Michael groaned. "Lockhart's ugly mug is not what I wanted to see right after breakfast…or at all, really."
"Professor Lockhart is not ugly!" Emma defended. "He's really cute!" The four Marauders rolled their eyes.
"From what I heard from your sister, you would think Dumb and Dumber over there are cute," Blaise said, pointing to Malfoy's cronies Crabbe and Goyle over at Slytherin table. Emma looked at them, her brow crinkled in thought.
"Well…" she trailed off. Michael groaned and banged his head on the table.
"Come on," Harry said, pulling Michael from his chair. "We gotta go before Lockhart puts us in detention." Blaise snorted at this.
"What's he gonna do? Make us answer his fan mail?" she asked sarcastically. Rolling his eyes, Harry pushed Michael to the Defense classroom.
Once everybody had milled in, Lockhart strutted in, his teeth flashing.
"Say hello to your Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor…me, Gilderoy Lockhart. Winner of the Order of Merlin, second class, founder and president of the Dueler's Club, winner of Witch Weekly's Most Dazzling Smile Award five times running. But I didn't beat the Banding Banshee by smiling at her, now." Lockhart laughed at his own joke, but elicited only a couple of weak chuckles from his students. "Right, now, I'm going to start you off with a little quiz to see how well you understood my books. Miss Patil, could you please pass these around?" Sighing dreamily, Pavarti Patil passed around the tests to all the students. Harry thumbed through his five-page-long test. His father was wrong, it wasn't a fifty-question quiz; it was almost a hundred, all focusing on Lockhart. "You have one hour," Lockhart said, tapping an hourglass. "Begin!"
Sighing, Harry looked at the first question. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color? Having no need nor desire to read the books, Harry decided to just answer the questions randomly. His first answer was "hot pink." What is Gilderoy Lockhart's ideal birthday gift? A baby blue cardigan. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition? If it was secret, then I wouldn't know now, would I?
When one hour was up, Lockhart summoned all the tests to him, and tutted in disappointment.
"Shame, shame, it seems that almost none of you read my books well enough. My favorite color is lilac, my ideal birthday gift is a bottle of Odgen's firewhiskey, and my secret ambition is freedom for all races in the wizarding world. In fact it seems that Miss Granger is the only one to receive full marks! Very good, five points to Gryffindor." Hermione blushed at the compliment. Lockhart was about to say something, but was thankfully cut off by the bell ringing. The class immediately packed up and left the room. As soon as they left, Hermione breathed a sigh of relief.
"Finally," she said. "I thought we'd get out of there. Eighty-seven questions, all focusing on him! How egotistical can you get?!" Shaking her head, she started heading to the greenhouses, her friends hot on her heels.
When they reached the grounds, they saw the small and dirt-covered Professor Sprout there waiting for them.
"You're here early," she pointed out. "Have a rough time with Professor Lockhart?" she asked, amused.
"You have no idea," Harry groaned. Soon, the rest of the students showed up.
"Okay class, follow me to greenhouse three!" The Marauders looked at each other. Greenhouse three was where some of the more dangerous plants were kept. When they went inside the greenhouse, they saw several potted plants and several pairs of earmuffs.
"Okay, class, we're going to learn about mandrakes today. Anyone know what mandrakes are why they are so dangerous?" Hermione's hand immediately shot up. "Miss Granger?"
"Mandrake, or mandragora, are plants commonly used to reverse the effects of petrification. However, its cry is deadly, so you have to wear ear protection at all times."
"Excellent, five points to Gryffindor!" Professor Sprout said excitedly. "Now, our mandrakes are only saplings, so they won't kill, but they will knock you out for several hours, so be diligent. Now, earmuffs on!" Everyone scrambled to put on their earmuffs. "Now, grab the mandrake by the leaves, and pull straight up!" She tugged on the plant, but instead of roots, was a fat, dirty baby, screaming its lungs out. It reminded Harry and Michael of Morgan when she was especially hungry. Immediately, one of the students collapsed. "It seems that Longbottom's neglected his earmuffs," Professor Sprout sighed.
"No, ma'am, he's just fainted," one student that Harry didn't recognize said.
"Oh, well, just leave him there. Now what you do is you take your mandrake, and you shove him into a new pot, and cover him with soil until he stops screaming." The students all tugged on their mandrakes and tried to relocate them, to varying degrees of success. Hermione got a scrawny one, but Harry's was especially big and ornery, and fought back tooth and nail from being placed in another pot. This is going to be a long day, Harry thought.
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Well, I hope you enjoyed chapter two, as well as the little bit of irony involving Umbridge's death.
Don't forget to read and review!
Question: Dumbledore is fairly high up in the Wizengamot, and knew Sirius was innocent before he fell out of favor in OotP. My question is, why didn't he petition for a trial for Sirius when he knew that he was falsely imprisoned, and considering his clout, would probably get it?
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