"Of course. You had your fun the previous day, and now it's time to pay a price for it," said Luna.
Things started to go downhill from breakfast in the Great Hall. The four long house tables were laden with tureens of porridge, plates of kip pers, mountains of toast and dishes of eggs and bacon, beneath the enchanted ceiling (today, a dull, cloudy grey).
"Apparently, the day is a reflection on the type of day your going to have," Luna said.
Harry and Ron sat down at the Gryffindor table next to Hermione, who had her copy of Voyages with Vampires propped open against a milk jug. There was a slight stiffness in the way she said "Morning" which told Harry that she was still disapproving of the way they had arrived.
"Of course. I'm probably also mad that you just disappeared the previous night, too," said Hermione.
Neville Longbottom, on the other hand, greeted them cheerfully. Neville was a round-faced and accident-prone boy with the worst memory of anyone Harry had ever met.
"That's kind of rude," said Cedric.
"Post's due any minute – I think Gran's sending on a few things I forgot."
Harry had only just started his porridge when, sure enough, there was a rushing sound overhead and a hundred or so owls streamed in, circling the Hall and dropping letters and packages into the chattering crowd. A big, lumpy parcel bounced off Neville's head, and a second later, something large and grey fell into Hermione's jug, spraying them all with milk and feathers.
"Seems Mrs. Weasley sent Ron something," said Cedric.
"Errol!" said Ron, pulling the bedraggled owl out by the feet. Errol slumped, unconscious, onto the table, his legs in the air and a damp red envelope in his beak.
"Oh no," said Cedric, immediately recognizing the description for the letter.
"That's not good," said Luna. Harry and Hermione looked at the two, wondering what was so bad about the letter.
"Oh no –" Ron gasped.
"It's all right, he's still alive," said Hermione, prodding Errol gently with the tip of her finger.
"It's not the owl he's horrified about," said Luna.
"So it's the letter," said Hermione. "What's so bad about it?"
"It's a Howler," said Cedric.
"A what?" asked Harry.
"A Howler. It's a magical letter some parents send their kids that pretty much make it so that they don't have to go to the school to yell at them," explained Cedric. Hermione and Harry didn't quite understand what that meant.
"It's not that – it's that."
Ron was pointing at the red envelope. It looked quite ordinary to Harry, but Ron and Neville were both looking at it as though they expected it to explode.
"Because it eventually will," muttered Cedric.
"What's the matter?" said Harry.
"She's – she's sent me a Howler," said Ron faintly.
"You'd better open it, Ron," said Neville, in a timid whisper. "It'll be worse if you don't. My Gran sent me one once, and I ignored it and –" he gulped, "it was horrible."
Harry looked from their petrified faces to the red envelope.
"What's a Howler?" he said.
But Ron's whole attention was fixed on the letter, which had begun to smoke at the corners.
Harry and Hermione's eyes widened. THey had thought that Cedric was joking when it said that it would explode.
"Open it," Neville urged. "It'll all be over in a few minutes ..."
Ron stretched out a shaking hand, eased the envelope from Errol's beak and slit it open. Neville stuffed his fingers in his ears.
"Why is he doing that?" wondered Hermione.
A split second later, Harry knew why. He thought for a moment it had exploded; a roar of sound filled the huge Hall, shaking dust from the ceiling.
"... STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SUR PRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT HAD GONE ..."
Mrs. Weasley's yells, a hundred times louder than usual, made the plates and spoons rattle on the table, and echoed deafeningly off the stone walls. People throughout the Hall were swivelling around to see who had received the Howler and Ron sank so low in his chair that only his crimson forehead could be seen.
"... LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU AND HARRY COULD BOTH HAVE DIED ..."
Harry had been wondering when his name was going to crop up. He tried very hard to look as though he couldn't hear the voice that was making his eardrums throb.
"That's when you need to do what Neville did," said Cedric.
"... ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED, YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME."
"You know, that's horrible," said Hermione.
"Yeah, that's not a suitable punishment. It's more like it's something that's designed to embarrass someone else," said Harry.
"Not only that, but it basically airs out your families dirty laundry, which is something no one else really needs to know," said Hermione. "It also gives people who don't like you a reason to tease and insult you."
"So, basically, she's just embarrassing them by saying something that should actually be said in private," said Luna. They nodded.
"Well, I don't think the few families that do that will ever stop. I can't see Mrs. Weasley doing so – it's well know, especially since the twins and my first year, that she sends them a couple every year since they started. They just learned how to silence them so that no one hears them last year, which is probably why you haven't been introduced to them yet," said Cedric.
"That, and I don't relly pay attention to them, as I'm not near them anyway," Harry said.
A ringing silence fell. The red envelope, which had dropped from Ron's hand, burst into flames and curled into ashes. Harry and Ron sat stunned, as though a tidal wave had just passed over them. A few people laughed and gradually, a babble of talk broke out again.
"And, knowing everyone, they're probably talking about the howler you just got," said Cedric.
Hermione closed Voyages with Vampires and looked down at the top of Ron's head.
"No offense, but it's not time to tell him that he deserved that, even if it is true," said Cedric.
"Well, I don't know what you expected, Ron, but you –"
"Don't tell me I deserved it," snapped Ron.
Harry pushed his porridge away. His insides were burning with guilt.
"Well, we know who was affected by the Howler," said Cedric.
Mr. Weasley was facing an inquiry at work. After all Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had done for him over the summer ...
But he had no time to dwell on this; Professor McGonagall was moving along the Gryffindor table, handing out timetables. Harry took his, and saw that they had double Herbology with the Hufflepuffs first.
"So you'll be starting the day off with a class about plants," said Cedric.
Harry, Ron and Hermione left the castle together, crossed the vegetable patch and made for the greenhouses, where the magical plants were kept. At least the Howler had done one good thing: Hermione seemed to think they had now been punished enough and was being perfectly friendly again.
"More like I was friendly to Harry, and Ron was just along for the ride," said Hermione, knowing that she would be able to tell about the guilt eating Harry about what the Howler said. She had noticed, during the first book, Harry had a rather expressive face, enough that she was able to read his emotions rather well. "Besides, they'd been embarrassed in front of the whole school. I don't think I would continue to add onto that."
As they neared the greenhouses they saw the rest of the class standing outside, waiting for Professor Sprout. Harry, Ron and Hermione had only just joined them when she came striding into view across the lawn, accompanied by Gilderoy Lockhart.
"What's he doing following her?" wondered Cedric. "I mean, I don't think he could really help her; Professor Sprout is one of the top leading Herbologist out there."
Professor Sprout's arms were full of bandages, and with another twinge of guilt, Harry spotted the Whomping Willow in the distance, several of its branches now in slings.
"Um, no offense to Professor Sprout, but I think it would have been better to leave it as it was," said Harry. "I mean, wouldn't it be better to cut off a few branches so that no one can end up getting hurt – or, better, yet, get rid of the entire thing."
"Well, the tree is a bit of a sentimental creature, so cutting off a few branches would probably hurt it, but I do agree, it should be gotten rid of. Someone could get seriously hurt – in fact, I have heard of a few students getting hurt from it," said Cedric.
"Why was it planted there to begin with?" asked Hermione. Cedric shrugged, not knowing the answer to that.
Professor Sprout was a squat little witch who wore a patched hat over her flyaway hair; there was usually a large amount of earth on her clothes, and her fingernails would have made Aunt Petunia faint.
"She sounds lovely," said Harry. Hermione nodded in agreement.
"She is," Cedric said, knowing that they meant what they were saying, and agreeing with them.
Gilderoy Lockhart, however, was immaculate in sweeping robes of turquoise, his golden hair shining under a perfectly positioned turquoise hat with gold trimming.
"So, basically, it's shows that the better person doesn't need to be a show off," said Cedric.
"Oh, hello there!" Lockhart called, beaming around at the assembled students. "Just been showing Professor Sprout the right way to doctor a Whomping Willow!"
"You've got to be kidding me," said Cedric, shaking his head.
"I think this right here shows that he's not all as he seems," said Hermione. She was trusting Cedric on this matter, remembering what he said about Sprout earlier.
"But I don't want you running away with the idea that I'm better at Herbology than she is!"
"Anyone with a brain and not clouded with infatuation will know that your not," said Cedric.
"So, basically, most of the boys, and maybe a few girls," Harry said, looking at Hermione. He wasn't quite sure, but her reaction at the book store and the fact that she seemed to be reading one of his books a lot, so he had the feeling that book Hermione was infatuated with him.
Of course, it did seem to be a good thing to have the book being read – the Hermione sitting across from him didn't seem infatuated with him, meaning that she would be blinded from comments like these.
"I just happen to have met several of these exotic plants on my travels ..."
"I don't think that right – Whomping Willows aren't exactly common, and are mostly found on private properties – they're used as a security feature, which is another reason why having one at Hogwarts is strange," said Cedric.
"Greenhouse Three today, chaps!" said Professor Sprout, who was looking distinctly disgruntled, not at all her usual cheerful self.
"That's understandable," said Luna. "She had to put up with Lockhart bugging her."
There was a murmur of interest. They had only ever worked in Greenhouse One before
"Makes sense. You were only first years, after all," said Cedric. "As the years go on, you'll work in different greenhouses."
"How many are there?" asked Hermione.
Well there are fourteen of them, two for each year in a way," Cedric said.
"Why so many?" asked Harry.
"Well, you've got the one where that is used for the class, which, among the plants you'll be working, does have a few other things in it, and then you've got a sort of storage one, which is just used for the plants," explained Cedric. "It's also why you're going to Greenhouse Three instead of two – the odd numbered ones are the classrooms while the even numbered ones are the storage ones."
– Greenhouse Three housed far more interesting and dangerous plants. Professor Sprout took a large key from her belt and unlocked the door. Harry caught a whiff of damp earth and fertiliser, mingling with the heavy perfume of some giant, umbrella-sized flowers dangling from the ceiling.
"Why do I get the feeling that there is a reason why you only caught a wiff of that?" Cedric said.
"Probably because, knowing my luck and the fact that Lockhart is there, I don't actually get to go inside the greenhouse," said Harry.
He was about to follow Ron and Hermione inside when Lockhart's hand shot out.
"Harry! I've been wanting a word – you don't mind if he's a couple of minutes late, do you, Professor Sprout?"
"I would imagine that she would be a bit mad if he was," said Cedric.
"From what has been said about Lockhart, both in the book and by you, I get the feeling that he won't care if she minds or not, he'll do it anyways," Hermione said. It was the first time she actually said something about him not relating to his books, and what she had just said didn't really sound nice. The others figured that she was beginning to have clear picture of her own opinion towards him and that it wasn't the usual one girls had.
Judging by Professor Sprout's scowl, she did mind, but Lockhart said, "That's the ticket," and closed the greenhouse door in her face.
"That's just rude," Luna said.
"Harry," said Lockhart, his large white teeth gleaming in the sun light as he shook his head. "Harry, Harry, Harry."
"I think I know my own name, thank you, now what do you want," Harry said.
Completely nonplussed, Harry said nothing.
"When I heard – well, of course, it was all my fault. Could have kicked myself."
"Oh, he better not be about to say what I think he is," Luna said, her eyes narrowing dangerously. Hermione's eyes had also done the same thing.
The boys, however, had no idea what the Luna was talking about, just that the two had some idea of what Lockhart was going on about.
Harry had no idea what he was talking about. He was about to say so when Lockhart went on, "Don't know when I've been more shocked. Flying a car to Hogwarts! Well, of course, I knew at once why you'd done it. Stood out a mile. Harry, Harry, Harry."
"Wait. Is he saying I did that because of him, or as a way to be more famous than I already am?" Harry asked, incredulous.
"It appears that way," Cedric said. "I think I might have an idea about why, too."
It was remarkable how he could show every one of those brilliant teeth even when he wasn't talking.
"Gave you a taste for publicity, didn't I?" said Lockhart. "Gave you the bug. You got onto the front page of the paper with me and you couldn't wait to do it again."
"Oh – no, Professor, see –"
"Harry, if what I'm thinking is right, he's not going to listen to anything you say," Cedric said.
"Harry, Harry, Harry,"
"Just how many times does he need to say my name," Harry asked lightly.
said Lockhart, reaching out and grasping his shoulder. "I understand. Natural to want a bit more once you've had that first taste – and I blame myself for giving you that, because it was bound to go to your head"
"Um, correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't I famous before I even met him?" Harry asked. Luna, Hermione, and Cedric all nodded. "Then why is he acting as if he made me famous?"
"Because he obviously can't stand the fact that you are more famous than he is. Plus, I have the feeling you took away his spotlight and he's bitter about it," Hermione said.
"– but see here, young man, you can't start flying cars to try and get yourself noticed."
"He doesn't need to do anything to get himself notice, it happens naturally," Cedric said.
"I think he must be really jealous," Luna said.
"Just calm down, all right? Plenty of time for all that when you're older. Yes, yes, I know what you're thinking! 'It's all right for him, he's an internationally famous wizard already!'"
Technically, Harry is internationally famous. He doesn't to think that," Cedric said.
"But when I was twelve, I was just as much of a nobody as you are now."
"Did he just call you, the boy-who-lived, a nobody?" Cedric asked rhetorically. There was a look of disbelief on his face. One that was mirrored by the girls as well.
"In fact, I'd say I was even more of a nobody! I mean, a few people have heard of you,"
"More like all of the wizarding world, everywhere," Cedric said. "In fact, he's usually one of the first things people are told about when they enter this world. You, however, are not mentioned at all."
"I won't doubt that," Hermione said. "In fact, I have the feeling I didn't even hear about him until I read his name on the book list and saw his picture – I don't think I was able to read the books before I saw him."
"haven't they? All that business with He Who Must Not Be Named!" He glanced at the lightning scar on Harry's forehead. "I know, I know, it's not quite as good as winning Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award five times in a row, as I have"
"Well he is right about that, as what you did is better than that," Hermione said.
"Yeah, winning a smiling contest isn't as good as defeating a dark lord," Luna said.
"– but it's a start, Harry, it's a start."
He gave Harry a hearty wink and strode off. Harry stood stunned for a few seconds,
"Did you forget that you were supposed to be in class at the moment?" asked Hermione.
then, remembering he was supposed to be in the greenhouse, he opened the door and slid inside.
"For a second, he did," Luna said.
Professor Sprout was standing behind a trestle bench in the centre of the greenhouse. About twenty pairs of different-coloured earmuffs were lying on the bench. When Harry had taken his place between Ron and Hermione, she said, "We'll be re-potting Mandrakes today. Now, who can tell me the properties of the Mandrake?"
"She isn't going to get on my case for being late?" Harry said, sounding a bit surprised.
"No, she's not. Even if she was, it wasn't actually your fault that you're late – you can't really ignore a teacher's request to talk to you, even if you have a class at the time. If she is angry, it probably at Lockhart for asking to talk to you when your about to walk into class, and for shutting the door in her face," Cedric said.
To nobody's surprise, Hermione's hand was first into the air.
"Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative," said Hermione, sounding as usual as though she had swallowed the textbook.
"Do you think I actually do talk like that?" Hermione asked.
"I don't know, but when your talking here and reading, you definitely don't," Cedric said, with Luna and Hermione nodding along with them.
"It is used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed, to their original state."
"You know, I've got to wonder what part Mandrake will play this year," Hermione said.
"What do you mean? Why do you think that Mandrakes will have some significance this year?" Cedric asked.
"Well, last year, other than the potions class, which showed us that Snape hated me, all the classes were just mentioned in a way, save for the lesson where we learned the Wingardium Leviosa spell, which was then used in a way. I can't hep but think that Mandrake might be used in the same way," Hermione said.
"Excellent. Ten points to Gryffindor," said Professor Sprout. "The Mandrake forms an essential part of most antidotes. It is also, however, dangerous. Who can tell me why?"
"They cry of a Mandrake is fatal to anyone who hears it," Cedric said promptly.
Hermione's hand narrowly missed Harry's glasses as it shot up again.
"The cry of the Mandrake is fatal to anyone who hears it," she said promptly.
"You and Cedric just said the same exact thing," Luna said, laughing a bit.
"What do they mean by 'cry of the Mandrake'?" Harry asked.
"You'll see," Cedric said.
"Precisely. Take another ten points," said Professor Sprout. "Now, the Mandrakes we have here are still very young."
"I take it that means something," Hermione said. Cedric nodded.
She pointed to a row of deep trays as she spoke and everyone shuffled forward for a better look. A hundred or so tufty little plants, purplish green in colour, were growing there in rows. They looked quite unremarkable to Harry, who didn't have the slightest idea what Hermione meant by the 'cry' of the Mandrake.
"Apparently, I haven't learned between now and that time," Harry said dryly.
"Everyone take a pair of earmuffs," said Professor Sprout.
There was a scramble as everyone tried to seize a pair that wasn't pink and fluffy.
"Oh, you should just grab them, no matter the color," said Luna.
"I think the guys would probably feel a bit awkward if we did that," Harry said.
"When I tell you to put them on, make sure your ears are completely covered," said Professor Sprout. "When it is safe to remove them, I will give you the thumbs-up. Right – earmuffs on."
"It's a good thing that the earmuffs are charmed to completely block out sound once you have them on properly," Cedric said. "Regular ones wouldn't block out the sound properly."
Harry snapped the earmuffs over his ears. They shut out sound completely.
"Yeah, that right there says there spelled in someway or another," Hermione said.
Professor Sprout put a pink fluffy pair over her own ears, rolled up the sleeves of her robes, grasped one of the tufty plants firmly, and pulled hard.
Harry let out a gasp of surprise that no one could hear.
Instead of roots, a small, muddy and extremely ugly baby popped out of the earth. The leaves were growing right out of his head. He had pale green, mottled skin, and was clearly bawling at the top of his lungs.
Harry and Hermione wrinkled their noses, unimpressed about the Mandrake. Neither were looking forward to having to deal with them, either.
Professor Sprout took a large plant pot from under the table and plunged the Mandrake into it, burying him in dark, damp compost until only the tufted leaves were visible. Professor Sprout dusted off her hands, gave them all the thumbs-up and removed her own earmuffs.
"As our Mandrakes are only seedlings, their cries won't kill yet," she said calmly, as though she'd just done nothing more exciting than water a begonia.
"Well, when you think about it, it kind of is that way, as she has done this many times," Cedric said.
"However, they will knock you out for several hours,"
"So, basically, if you want an easy way to skip classes the first day, hear the cry," Hermione said dryly.
"and as I'm sure none of you want to miss your first day back,"
"Um, I sure people would love to skip out on the first day," Harry said
"make sure your earmuffs are securely in place while you work. I will attract your attention when it is time to pack up.
"How will she do that?" Harry asked.
"She'll stop you from getting another pot and plant by waving a hand in front of your face and directing you towards the front of the class. Of course, you won't actually be able to take off the ear muffs until all the Mandrakes have been potted, and if your working on one when she starts going around, she'll wait until your finished," Cedric said.
"Four to a tray – there is a large supply of pots here – compost in the sacks over there – and be careful of the Venomous Tentacula, it's teething."
She gave a sharp slap to a spiky, dark red plant as she spoke, making it draw in the long feelers that had been inching sneakily over her shoulder.
"I think I'll try to stay away from it in general," Harry said.
"That's usually the smart thing to do," Cedric said, "especially when you absolutely need to concentrate on something specific."
Harry, Ron and Hermione were joined at their tray by a curly-haired Hufflepuff boy Harry knew by sight, but had never spoken to.
"Justin Finch-Fletchley," he said brightly, shaking Harry by the hand. "Know who you are, of course, the famous Harry Potter ... and you're Hermione Granger – always top in everything ..." (Hermione beamed as she had her hand shaken, too) "and Ron Weasley. Wasn't that your flying car?"
"I don't think he's going to be happy to be reminded of the event that warranted a Howler," Cedric said.
Ron didn't smile. The Howler was obviously still on his mind.
"That Lockhart's something, isn't he?" said Justin happily, as they began filling their plant pots with dragon-dung compost. "Awfully brave chap. Have you read his books? I'd have died of fear if I'd been cornered in a telephone box by a werewolf, but he stayed cool and – zap – just fantastic."
"Somehow, I doubt that, as he would have to have his wand in front of him and the right spell in his mind, because werewolves are not easy to stun, much less kill," Cedric said.
"When do you learn about them?" asked Hermione.
"Third year, third term," he said, a bit sheepishly. Harry's eyes furrowed.
"How…how would you know that? I mean, won't you have a while to go before you start learning from them when you go back," Harry said.
"My father told me about this after he read about Lockhart supposedly defeating a werewolf," Cedric said.
"My name was down for Eton, you know, I can't tell you how glad I am I came here instead. Of course, mother was slightly dis appointed, but since I made her read Lockhart's books I think she's begun to see how useful it'll be to have a fully trained wizard in the family ..."
Cedric made a face. Apparently, it wasn't only females but Muggleborn – at least, he assumed Justin was a Muggleborn, as he had never heard of a wizarding family with his surname, and, based on the widening of eyes Hermione had given at the mention of Eton – whatever that was – it was something in the Muggle word.
After that they didn't have much chance to talk. Their earmuffs were back on and they needed to concentrate on the Mandrakes. Professor Sprout had made it look extremely easy, but it wasn't.
"Well, she has had years of practice," Cedric said.
The Mandrakes didn't like coming out of the earth, but didn't seem to want to go back into it either. They squirmed, kicked, flailed their sharp little fists and gnashed their teeth; Harry spent ten whole minutes trying to squash a particularly fat one into a pot.
By the end of the class, Harry, like everyone else, was sweaty, aching and covered in earth.
"Sounds like a particularly good day in Herbology, then," Cedric said, his tone clearly joking.
They traipsed back to the castle for a quick wash and then the Gryffindors hurried off to Transfiguration.
Professor McGonagall's classes were always hard work, but today was especially difficult. Everything Harry had learned last year seemed to have leaked out of his head during the summer. He was supposed to be turning a beetle into a button, but all he managed to do was give his beetle a lot of exercise as it scuttled over the desk top avoiding his wand.
Ron was having far worse problems. He had patched up his wand with some borrowed Spellotape, but it seemed to be dam aged 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 of rotten eggs.
"Yeah, he can't keep working with that one," Cedric said.
"He should write home and get a new one," Luna said.
"They don't really have the money to buy him a new one," Cedric pointed out.
Unable to see what he was doing, Ron accidentally squashed his beetle with his elbow and had to ask for a new one. Professor McGonagall wasn't pleased.
Harry was relieved to hear the lunch bell. His brain felt like a wrung sponge. Everyone filed out of the classroom except him and Ron, who was whacking his wand furiously on the desk.
"That's not going to help," Hermione said. "At least, I don't think it will."
"It'll help him vent his frustration," Cedric said.
"Stupid ... useless ... thing ..."
"Write home for another one," Harry suggested, as the wand let off a volley of bangs like a firecracker.
"Oh yeah, and get another Howler back," said Ron, stuffing the now hissing wand into his bag. "It's your own fault your wand got snapped –"
"He won't get another Howler. He may get a rejection note, saying they don't have the money, but a broken wand – which happens in an accident – won't warrant one," said Cedric.
They went down to lunch, where Ron's mood was not improved by Hermione showing them the handful of perfect coat buttons she had produced in Transfiguration.
"Somehow, I'm not surprised that you managed to get the spell down quickly and were able to produce a handful of buttons," Cedric said. Hermione blushed, smiled, and said, "Thank you."
"What've we got this afternoon?" said Harry, hastily changing the subject.
"Yeah, I get the feeling that you to argue a whole lot, and over the silliest things," Harry said, shaking his head. Cedric thought about that, and realized that, if they did get together, they would be completely miserable. At least, he thought they would be.
"Defence Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione at once.
"Why," demanded Ron, seizing her timetable, "have you outlined all Lockhart's lessons in little hearts?"
Hermione snatched the timetable back, flushing furiously.
"I think that's a 'yes'," Harry said. Hermione blushed deeply, but one could also see that she was also a bit disappointed in herself for that – all she knew about him, in the book, was that he was an author and he was handsome. Was she really crushing on him? She always figured herself to be a practical girl, one who wouldn't get a crush on someone just because he was handsome – after all, while she might believe the books to be true, she knew herself well enough that the crush was based on what he looked like, not his accomplishments. In truth, his actions back at the bookstore would have raised some questions in her mind if she didn't develop a crush on him.
They finished lunch and went outside into the overcast court yard. Hermione sat down on a stone step and buried her nose in Voyages with Vampires again.
"How many times do you think you've read it?" Cedric asked.
"Probably around twenty or so," Hermione said, and by the serious tone of her voice, she wasn't kidding.
Harry and Ron stood talking about Quidditch for several minutes before Harry became aware that he was being closely watched. Looking up, he saw the very small, mousey-haired boy he'd seen trying on the Sorting Hat last night, staring at Harry as though transfixed.
"Looks like another fan," Cedric said.
He was clutching what looked like an ordinary Muggle camera, and the moment Harry looked at him, he went bright red.
"A muggleborn one, at that," Luna said.
"All right, Harry? I'm – I'm Colin Creevey," he said breathlessly, taking a tentative step forward. "I'm in Gryffindor, too."
"I've got to wonder how many first years wanted to be in Gryffindor once they heard that was the house you were in," Cedric said.
"D'you think – would it be all right if – can I have a picture?" he said, raising the camera hopefully.
"No," Harry said, knowing, thanks to the comments Cedric and Luna had said, that he only wanted one because of who he was.
"A picture?" Harry repeated blankly.
"So I can prove I've met you," said Colin Creevey eagerly, edging further forwards. "I know all about you. Everyone's told me."
"Which means, he actually knows nothing about me," Harry sighed.
"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 light ning 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 –" he looked imploringly at Harry, "– maybe your friend could take it and I could stand next to you? And then, could you sign it?"
"Again, no," Harry said. "And please let no one else have heard that."
"Signed photos? You're giving out signed photos, Potter?"
"I think your pleas have gone unanswered," Hermione said, a frown of distaste on her face. Somehow, she could just picture exactly who had said that.
Loud and scathing, Draco Malfoy's voice echoed around the courtyard. He had stopped right behind Colin, flanked, as he always was at Hogwarts, by his large and thuggish cronies, Crabbe and Goyle.
"Everyone queue up!" Malfoy roared to the crowd. "Harry Potter's giving out signed photos!"
"Geez, how did he get that impression when Harry hasn't even answered Colin's question yet," Hermione said, rolling her eyes.
"You know, people would actually be lining up for that," Luna said, "which means that it'll backfire on Malfoy, as he probably expects everyone to laugh at you."
"Unless, of course, most of them are Slytherins, who, in case your wondering, won't take it, as those who may actually want them will want not to be ridiculed even more," Cedric said.
"No, I'm not," said Harry angrily, his fists clenching. "Shut up, Malfoy."
"You're just jealous," piped up Colin, whose entire body was about as thick as Crabbe's neck.
"Jealous?" said Malfoy, who didn't need to shout any more; half the courtyard was listening in. "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."
"Well, we already know that he's jealous, but he's not going to admit it, especially in front of everyone," Cedric said.
Crabbe and Goyle were sniggering stupidly.
"Eat slugs, Malfoy," said Ron angrily. Crabbe stopped laughing and started rubbing his conker-like knuckles in a menacing way.
"I wonder what Dumbledore would do if he hit you. I mean, would he get suspended or a load of detention," Hermione said.
"Doubtful," Cedric said. "Part of the reason why the Slytherin's bully people is because they know no one's going to do anything about it. If you try to go to Snape, he'll just ignore you, or even degrade you and call you a liar; if you go to another teacher, it also won't do any good, because they'll go to Snape, and he'll say whatever he needs to or refuse to punish the students; and if you go to Dumbledore, it's also useless, because he just won't do anything, you tell you to forgive and forget."
"So, basically, they can get away with anything, and he'll do nothing," Hermione said, glancing at Harry.
"Yeah, basically. I mean, he was also the one who proposed just life imprisonment for a lot of criminals, including ones who should have been killed," Cedric said. Though he had been young at the time, he remembered his mothers rage about many things that happened about the trials at the time Voldemort disappeared.
"Be careful, Weasley," sneered Malfoy. "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 –' "
"I have the feeling that's an empty threat, though," Cedric said. "I honestly can't see Mrs. Weasley doing that."
"Well, it's seems you were right, Hermione, the Howler wasn't a good thing to do," said Luna.
A knot of Slytherin fifth-years nearby laughed loudly at this.
"Weasley would like a signed photo, Potter," smirked Malfoy. "It'd be worth more than his family's whole house."
"You know, one would think he'd want the signed photo, what with the way he's making such a big deal about it," Hermione said.
Ron whipped out his Spellotaped wand, but Hermione shut Voyages with Vampires with a snap and whispered, "Look out!"
"A teacher's coming," Cedric said.
"I have a feeling I know which one, too," Harry said, knowing that his luck would not be good, especially with the subject being talked about.
"What's all this, what's all this?" Gilderoy Lockhart was striding towards them, his turquoise robes swirling behind him.
"Knew it." Harry muttered.
"Who's giving out signed photos?"
"No one," Hermione said.
Harry started 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!"
"Again, he's not going to bother listening to anyone," Harry said.
"I think there's actually more to it thank just that," Hermione said, thinking. "I think, and this might sound strange, but I think he wants to be seen as 'close' to Harry, if you get what I mean."
It took them a while to get what she meant, but Luna obviously did within a few minutes.
"He wants people to think that Harry looks up to him and that he's close to the boy-who-lived. It's a way for him to have even more fame, as people will look up to him as well if Harry does it," Luna said.
Pinned to Lockhart's side and burning with humiliation, Harry saw Malfoy slide smirking back into the crowd.
"Come on then, Mr Creevey," said Lockhart, beaming at Colin. "A double portrait, can't say fairer than that, and we'll both sign it for you."
"He's having Creevey do it anyways, even though I haven't said yes to it," Harry said, an angry look on his face.
Colin fumbled for his camera and took the picture as the bell rang behind them, signalling the start of afternoon classes.
"Off you go, move along there," Lockhart called to the crowd, and he set off back to the castle with Harry, who was wishing he knew a good vanishing spell, still clasped to his side.
"Doesn't he know the meaning of personal space?" Harry asked, still a little angry.
"A word to the wise, Harry," said Lockhart paternally as they entered the building through a side door. "I covered up for you back there with young Creevey – if he was photographing me, too, your schoolfellows won't think you're setting yourself up so much ..."
"Considering that I didn't ask to be photographed, your 'advice' is completely useless," Harry said.
Deaf to Harry's stammers, Lockhart swept him down a corridor lined with staring students and up a staircase.
"Let me just say that handing out signed pictures at this stage of your career isn't sensible – looks a tad bigheaded, Harry, to be frank."
"Actually, it doesn't look bigheaded, especially when it comes to you," Cedric said. "It looks bigheaded when he does it, though, because when he does it, he does it in a way that hints that he doesn't care if a person wants one or not, he'll give them one regardlessly."
"There may well come a time when, like me, you'll need to keep a stack handy wherever you go, but –" he gave a little chor tle, "I don't think you're quite there yet."
"More like he is, and you hate it," said Hermione.
They had reached Lockhart's classroom and he let Harry go at last. Harry yanked his robes straight and headed for a seat at the very back of the class, where he busied himself with piling all seven of Lockhart's books in front of him, so that he could avoid looking at the real thing.
"That sounds like a smart idea," Luna said.
The rest of the class came clattering in and Ron and Hermione sat down on either side of Harry.
"You could've fried an egg on your face," said Ron. "You'd better hope Creevey doesn't meet Ginny, they'll be starting a Harry Potter fan club."
"No one should be starting a Harry Potter fan club," Harry said forcefully.
Cedric and Luna refused to look at him at that.
"Please don't tell me that there are," Harry said.
"Okay, we won't," they both said, to which Harry groaned. That right there was as good as an admission that there were.
"Is it just one, or are there many?" he asked.
"I know of at least three," Cedric said.
"Why are there three?" asked Hermione. "I mean, why aren't there just one?"
"I don't know. I think it might be who the members are and whatnot," said Cedric.
"Shut up," snapped Harry. The last thing he needed was for Lockhart to hear the phrase 'Harry Potter fan club'.
"Yeah, I get the feeling that it won't be a good thing, either," said Cedric.
When the whole class was seated, Lockhart cleared his throat loudly and silence fell. He reached forward, picked up Neville Longbottom's copy of Travels with Trolls and held it up to show his own, winking portrait on the front.
"Me," he said, pointing at it and winking as well, "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League and five times winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award"
"You know, the fact that he holds the fact that he's won a smiling award in a high position tells you quite a bit about what he things is the most important thing to him, which can cast doubt upon everything else. I mean, I don't know about you guys, but I would imagine that I would be proud to have helped people by getting rid of the creatures that plagued them over being about to have a charming smile," Cedric said. The other three nodded as they agreed with him, in every thing he had just said.
"– but I don't talk about that."
"You've already mentioned it twice in the book," Hermione said.
"I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"
He waited for them to laugh; a few people smiled weakly.
"I don't see that being a good joke," Hermione said.
"I see you've all bought a complete set of my books – well done."
"It's not like you gave us a choice," Luna said, rolling her eyes.
"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 ..."
"Which means that only Hermione will be able to answer everything correctly, even if there are other girls in the class infatuated with him," Harry said.
When he had handed out the test papers he returned to the front of the class and said, "You have thirty minutes. Start – now!"
Harry looked down at his paper and read:
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 achieve ment 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?
"Okay, what does any of this have to do with Defense Against the Dark Arts?" asked Hermione.
"Absolutely nothing," Cedric said. "I do hope that the you in the book won't continue with your crush on him after this quiz, as it is clear, by the questions, that he is not suitable for the job."
"I have the feeling that I'll still continue thinking he is right for a while, as I hate being wrong a lot and I don't think I'll be able to believe that he is a liar after the books – after all, I think someone would have made mention of something if the books weren't factual," Hermione said.
Half an hour later, Lockhart collected in the papers and rifled through them in front of the class.
"Tut, tut – hardly any of you remembered that my favourite colour is lilac. I say so in Year with a Yeti. And a few of you need to read Wanderings with Werewolves more carefully – I clearly state in chapter twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples – though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky!"
He gave them another roguish wink.
Everyone in the room rolled their eyes at that.
Ron was now staring at Lockhart with an expression of disbelief on his face; Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, who were sitting in front, were shak ing with silent laughter. Hermione, on the other hand, was listen ing to Lockhart with rapt attention, and gave a start when he mentioned her name.
"Shame on you, Hermione, shame on you," Luna said, the tone of her voice obvious so that it took away any hurt Hermione might have felt, as she could tell that Luna was just joking with her words. Still, there was a twinge of hurt that Luna would still joke at her for that.
"... but Miss Hermione Granger knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions – good girl! In fact –" he flipped her paper over, "full marks! Where is Miss Hermione Granger?"
Hermione raised a trembling hand.
"Excellent!" beamed Lockhart. "Quite excellent! Take ten points for Gryffindor!"
"At least we get some points from that," Harry said. "Though, I do have to wonder how your book self didn't notice that the questions really didn't have anything to do with the class and the fact that some of his things weren't things we needed to know in order to pass the class. I mean, why is marketing his own range of hair-care potions be something of worth?"
Hermione shrugged, not wanting to tell her thoughts upon the subject. She had the feeing that she was going to be acting rather stupid during this book.
"And so, to business ..."
He bent down behind his desk and lifted a large, covered cage onto it.
"Now – be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm."
"Yeah, he's not going to be much help," said Cedric. "The fact that he's all 'no harm will come to you' definitely makes you think otherwise."
"Well, it does seem like that in while reading, but I have the feeling that it's actually not like that in the book. I mean, some of us might be in disbelief, but others could be comforted by it as well. After all, our book selves observation are split, quite a bit," Hermione said.
In spite of himself, Harry leaned around his pile of books for a better look at the cage. Lockhart placed a hand on the cover. Dean and Seamus had stopped laughing now. Neville was cowering in his front-row seat.
"I must ask you not to scream," said Lockhart in a low voice. "It might provoke them."
As the whole class held its breath, Lockhart whipped off the cover.
"Yes," he said dramatically. "Freshly caught Cornish pixies."
"You've got to be kidding me," said Cedric, rolling his eyes. "I thought this was a Defense class, not Cares of Magical Creatures."
"I take it that there not material normally in a Defense class," Hermione said. He shook his head.
"No. They're annoying as hell, and will cause mischief, but they're not Dark Creatures, which is the only type of magical creatures you learn about in Defense," Cedric said. "You learn about Dark Creatures in third year; at least, that's what your supposed to learn."
Seamus Finnigan couldn't control himself. He let out a snort of laughter which even Lockhart couldn't mistake for a scream of terror.
"Yes?" he smiled at Seamus.
"Well, they're not – they're not very – dangerous, are they?" Seamus choked.
"Don't be so sure!" said Lockhart, waggling a finger annoyingly at Seamus. "Devilish tricky little blighters they can be!"
"So, basically, they did something to him that he didn't like, so he considers them to be dark creatures," said Luna.
"They probably mess up his hair," Hermione said.
"Yeah, that probably would make him do that," Luna said.
The pixies were electric blue and about eight inches high, with pointed faces and voices so shrill it was like listening to a lot of budgies arguing. The moment the cover had been removed, they had started jabbering and rocketing around, rattling the bars and pulling bizarre faces at the people nearest them.
"Like I said, they're annoying, but that doesn't mean they're dark," said Cedric.
"Right then," Lockhart said loudly. "Let's see what you make of them!" And he opened the cage.
"Is he insane," Cedric asked.
"I thought you said they weren't dangerous," Harry said.
"They're not, but they will cause mischief, meaning they will do their best to cause chaos. Anything in that room is going to get smashed," Cedric said. "Another reason why it's a Cares of Magical Creatures class is because those classes take place outside, were chances of chaos happening are extremely low."
It was pandemonium. The pixies shot in every direction like rockets. Two of them seized Neville by the ears and lifted him into the air. Several shot straight through the window, showering the back row with broken glass. The rest proceeded to wreck the classroom more effectively than a rampaging rhino. They grabbed ink bottles and sprayed the class with them, shredded books and papers, tore pictures from the walls, upended the waste bin, grabbed bags and books and threw them out of the smashed win dow; within minutes, half the class was sheltering under desks and Neville was swinging from the candelabra in the ceiling.
"Okay, I think we can see what you mean," Hermione said, Harry's and her eyes wide.
"Come on now, round them up, round them up, they're only pixies ..." Lockhart shouted.
"You should have taught them before opening the cage, idiot," Cedric said.
He rolled up his sleeves, brandished his wand and bellowed, "Peskipiksi Pesternomi!"
"That's not a real spell," Cedric said.
"No, it isn't. In fact, all he did was string the words 'Pesky Pixie Pester no me' with some sound changes," Luna said. Hermione's eyes widened when she sounded it out in her head, and realized that it was indeed what he did.
It had absolutely no effect; one of the pixies seized Lockhart's wand and threw it out of the window, too. Lockhart gulped and dived under his own desk, narrowly avoiding being squashed by Neville, who fell a second later as the candelabra gave way.
"I'm pretty sure Neville would rather fall on the desk than on him," Harry said. "Of course, either way would probably hurt."
The bell rang and there was a mad rush towards the exit. In the relative calm that followed, Lockhart straightened up, caught sight of Harry, Ron and Hermione, who were almost at the door, and said, "Well, I'll ask you three to just nip the rest of them back into their cage." He swept past them and shut the door quickly behind him.
"He's having three second years do it instead of himself. That's not an action a teacher should do," Cedric said.
"Can you believe him?" roared Ron, as one of the remaining pix ies bit him painfully on the ear.
"Nope," Harry said, as if he had actually been asked the question.
"He just wants to give us some hands-on experience," said Hermione, immobilising two pixies at once with a clever Freezing Charm and stuffing them back into their cage.
"Hermione, that's not hands on, that's the action of someone who doesn't know what the hell he's doing," Cedric said.
"I know," she said.
"Hands on?" said Harry, who was trying to grab a pixie dancing out of reach with its tongue out.
"I think you should teach them the Freezing Charm you used," said Luna.
"Hermione, he didn't have a clue what he was doing."
"Rubbish," said Hermione. "You've read his books – look at all those amazing things he's done ..."
"Hermione, the fact that he couldn't do a simple spell on pixies should at least give your book self quite a bit of doubt. After all, how can he do something great, but not something simple?" said Cedric
"Are you going to rag on any time I defend him or show hints of having a crush on him?" Hermione asked Cedric, looking rather upset and hurt. "Because, then I'm going to have to tell you right now, I can't change how my book self acts, and I don't want to continue hearing about it."
She stood up, and walked out of the room, shocking the other three and making Cedric feel a bit horrible, as he had seen her eyes filing with tears before she had stood up, tears that he had put there. Before any of them could move, she came back in.
"Finish the chapter, Luna," she said, her head bowed. She leaned against the wall, not going back to her seat. Luna looked down at he book in her hands.
"He says he's done," Ron muttered.
"That's it," Luna said quietly. She handed the book over to Harry, who put a bookmark at the place they had stopped, knowing that starting the next chapter wouldn't be a good idea, mostly for the fact that Hermione had left the room once Luna had mentioned the chapter was done.
"What time is it?" asked Harry. Cedric looked at he clock.
"It's eleven fifteen," Cedric said.
"What time do you think we should have lunch?" Luna asked.
"I think we should have lunch around twelve," Harry said. Cedric got up then.
"Where are you going?" asked Harry.
"To talk to Hermione. I mean, it's kind of my fault for chasing her out of the room, so to speak," Cedric said. The other two nodded their heads, and he walked out of the room.