The Dark Lords Daughter 2: Slytherins Heir *completed*

Whispering Walls

I had just finished Grace off when the clock chimed 7 o'clock. I cursed and quickly ran up to Mr Lockhart's room, I arrived out of breath and slightly sweaty. Harry stood at the door about to enter, he smiled at me, his green eyes twinkling under his heavy mop of black hair.

"You okay?" He asked cocking an eyebrow at my dishevelled state.

"I-I'm fine." I panted, bracing myself on my knees and regaining my breath. He chuckled quietly and raised his fist to knock on the door. Three loud raps echoed through the deserted hall and we both waited. Eventually the door creaked open slightly and a sliver of Gilderoy Lockhart's face appeared in the tiny crack, he eyed us wearily. He seemed frightened, but I must have been mistaken for not a moment later the heavy wooden door flew open and he stood tall. In all his fake splendour.

"Ah...Mr Potter and-" He looked at me questioningly and I sighed.

"Anna, Anna Lockheart?" I offered. Come on! We have the same name...practically. He smiled and nodded.

"Ah, yes. Of course, Miss Lockheart." He stepped to the side and gestured for us to come in. I followed Harry and we both took an assigned seat, next to the Professors desk. Upon it was piled a small mountain of letters. Next to that, two piles of photographs and envelopes.

"You're going to be helping me answer my fan mail today." He grinned and took a much more comfortable seat opposite me. I mentally groaned and grimaced.

"Simply read the letter and reply onto a photograph a subtable message or quote. You must have read my books." His teeth gleamed in the light of the candle as he waited for our reply. Harry and I looked at each other and both shook our heads.

"No Sir."Harry said politely, whereas I came out with a blunt.

"Nope." The authors face dropped and for the first time since I had met him, the creepy smile left his overly stretched lips.

"Oh." He seemed disappointed, but dropped the subject and said no more.

    For the next few hours I spent laughing quietly or gagging in disgust at the ridiculous letters. From peice saying he was a genius, gag worthy. To people saying he was a fake and a phoney, these really cheered me up. To each I wrote a response I thought was submit able and passed it to Lockhart to sign. My hand was beginning to go numb and I rested my face on my perched elbow. Feeling half brain-dead. Suddenly the imbecile began to speak.

"Harry, Harry, Harry..." Lockhart sighed, "Could you possibly imagine a better way to serve detention than by helping me answer my fan mail?" His goofy smile had returned full force and I rolled my eyes. 

"Not really." Harry sighed, placating the egotistic teacher. Gilderoy shuffled in his seat and pressed a seal to another letter, with a flourish. Obviously pleased with himself.

"Fame is a fickle friend, Harry. Celebrity is as celebrity does. Remember that." Harry frowned and went back to writing, I breathed out a chuckled but froze. I stopped writing and dropped my quill to the desk.

"Come," I shivered, a strange disjointed voice echoed in my mind and I squeezed my eyes closed. "Come." It hissed again and I looked over to Harry.

"Come to me." He sat wide eyed and looking up to the ceiling. The voice sounded desperate, ordering, dangerous.

"Come to me!" It tapered off and seemed to grow distant.

"What?" Harry blurted in response to the voice.

"Sorry?" Lockhart jolted, turning to Harry and smiling.

I carried on looking around, what was that?