Public Issues (Demma Book 2)

The Dumbest Teacher Ever

Dateline: September 3rd, 1992

After Ron got a noise-full of a howler from Mrs Weasley, they headed over to the greenhouse, where, to Harry and Hermione's horror, Lockhart was there.

"Harry, Hermione! I've been wanting a word — you don't mind if they're a couple of minutes late, do you, Professor Sprout?"

They turned to 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've made Aunt Petunia faint. Judging by her scowl, she didn't mind, but Lockhart said, "That's the ticket," and closed the greenhouse door in her face.

"Harry, Hermione," said Lockhart, his large white teeth gleaming in the sunlight as he shook his head. "Harry, Hermione."

Completely nonplussed, they said nothing.

"When I heard — well, of course, it was all my fault. Could have kicked myself."

They had no idea what he was talking about. Harry was about to say something, but 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 two did it. Stood out a mile."

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? Gave you the bug. You've got on the front page of the paper with me, and you two couldn't wait to do it again." continued Lockhart. "Harry, Hermione, I understand. Natural to want a bit more once you two had that first taste — and I blame myself for giving you that because it was bound to go into your heads — but see here, kids, you can't start flying cars to try and get yourselves noticed. Just calm down, all right? Plenty of time for all of that when you're older. Yes, yes, I know what you're thinking! 'It's all right for them; they're internationally famous wizards already!' But when I was twelve, I was just as much of a nobody as you two are now. In fact, I'd say I was even more than a nobody! I mean, a few people have heard you two, haven't they? All that business with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!" He glanced at the lightning scars on their foreheads. "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— but it's a start, Harry and Hermione, it's a start."

He gave them a hearty wink and strode off. They stood there stunned for a few seconds, then, remembering they were supposed to be in the greenhouse, they opened the door and slid inside.

Professor Sprout had just come from outside the greenhouse and tapped the flowerpots to catch the students' attention.

"Good mourning, everyone! Welcome to Greenhouse Three, second years. Now, gather around everyone. Today, we are going to re-pot Mandrakes. Now, who can tell me the properties of the Mandrake?" she said, as both Hermione and Harry raised their hands. "Yes, Ms Granger?"

"Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative. It is used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed to their original state."

"Excellent. Ten points to Gryffindor. The Mandrake forms an essential part of most antidotes. It is also, however, dangerous. Who can tell me why?"

Harry's hand nearly missed Hermione's arm as it shot up again.

"The cry of the Mandrake is fatal to anyone who hears it," he said promptly.

"Precisely. Take another ten points," said Professor Sprout. "As our Mandrakes are only seedlings, their cries won't kill yet. However, they will knock you out for several hours. That is why I have provided you with a pair of earmuffs. If you would then..."