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"Don't tell I did not warn you about Lockhart." Alexandra remarked with a snout reflex.
Nigel, Hermione and Alexandra finished lunch and then began to march towards the Defence's class, Alexandra always closely followed by Morag. Hermione had still her nose buried in the Voyage with Vampires book, and was almost ramd in the corridors three tis.
As they reached the room where the class was supposed to happen, the four students heard the pompous voice of Gilderoy Lockhart high and clear giving advice.
"A word to the wise, Neville, I covered up for you back there with young Creevey – if he was photographing , too, your schoolfellows won't think you're setting yourself up so much …"
The new Senior Professor of Defence was dragging a stamring Boy-Who-Lived up the stairs, not really caring about Neville's protestations. Lockhart was not finished delivering his advice, alas.
"Let just say that handing out signed pictures at this stage of your career isn't sensible – looks a tad bigheaded, Neville, to be frank. There may well co a ti when, like , you'll need to keep a stack handy wherever you go, but –" the blonde-haired threat gave a little chortle, "I don't think you're quite there yet."
Alexandra was not sure to laugh or to cry at that last sentence. Well, it was not like her Professor had a small ego, wasn't it? Finally, Gilderoy Lockhart let Neville go once they were right in front of the class, and the Boy-Who-Lived fled faster than you could say 'Quidditch', being understandably willing to put the greatest distance possible between him and Lockhart.
All the Gryffindor and the Ravenclaw entered the class, and Alexandra had placed herself in the last places of the queue, so she wasn't able to see the decoration of the classroom before the rest. Once she had a vision of it though, the black-haired witch gasped. Soone, and Alexandra had a good idea of who, had painted the whole class in a nauseating pink colour, leaving only the black board, well black. Over every wall, were hanged dozen of Lockhart pictures or paintings. And with the magic of the wizarding world, all were moving smiling, prancing, strutting about their hair, smiles and stimulating Lockhart's ego. It was a sickening display of how big the Defence Professor ego was.
"I think in hindsight I preferred garlic..." Murmured Alexandra.
Imdiately, she searched the place the place the furthest away from Lockhart and sat at the end of the room, with Nigel sitting on her right. To her surprise, neither Morag no Hermione had followed the two, instead choosing to fight for the places on the first ranks. It was Longbottom, Black and Weasley who sat on the places just before and Nigel.
Ronal Weasley was sniggering right now.
"You could've fried an egg on your face," said the red-hair Gryffindor nace. "You'd better hope Creevey doesn't et Ginny, they'll be starting a Neville Longbottom fan club."
Oh, Ronald Weasley. You are so far behind the news.
The Boy-Who-Lived sent a glare filled with so much venom the Weasley boy moved back unconsciously.
"Shut up." The Potter Heiress heard him snap in an angered tone. Looks like Gilderoy Lockhart had been very efficient in hitting his nerves.
When the whole class was seated, Lockhart cleared his throat loudly and silence fell. He reached forward, picked up Hermione's copy of Voyage with Vampires and held it up to show his own, winking portrait on the front.
"," he said, pointing at it and winking as well in a completely ridiculous manner, "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of rlin, Third Class, Honorary mber of the Dark Force Defence League and five tis 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!"
Alexandra had a sudden envy to levitate her desk and send it straight at her professor's face.
"I see you've all bought a complete set of my books – well done."
As if we had the choice, thought Alexandra bitterly.
"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 …"
Lockhart then proceeded to hand-out a large pile of parchnts, which looked quite voluminous. Against herself, Alexandra felt hope appear. Maybe, just maybe the teacher wasn't so bad. Controlling their knowledge could be the mark of soone who cared about their curriculum, no?
When he had handed out the test papers Lockhart returned to the front of the class and said, "You have thirty minutes. Start – now!"
Alexandra looked down at her paper. And read the first question. Then the second. By the ti, she had arrived to the tenth, she knew without doubt Lockhart was useless. By the twentieth, there was still no sign of anything concerning Defence against the Dark Arts. Just Lockhart, Lockhart and again Lockhart.
By the fortieth, she was devastated. By the last and fifty-fourth question she was openly laughing, having realised the idea of joking about this waste of paper was better than crying. She and Nigel looked at each other, and she whispered a quick "useless" to which Nigel approved darkly.
If this was the norm of every classes with this sad excuse of a professor, Alexandra swore she wasn't going to stay long in this class. Exhaling a loud breath, she then began to write her own answers.
1. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favourite colour?
Rose-Fuchsia. Disgusting colour, but what do I know?
2. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?
Becoming Minister of Magic. Being promoted over your level of incompetence is the norm in politics.
3. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievent to date?
Selling so many of his books to the students of Hogwarts. He must have made a fortune with it.
4. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favourite food?
Ambrosia. With his ego, only the food of the gods is enough.
5. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favourite drink?
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