Draco Malfoy's history of poor decision-making continues after the war, when he returns to Hogwarts under strict probation. Bored and restless, he decides to cast the infamous Vanishing Cabinet spell to link his bed with the bed of a willing witch...
Still reeling from her encounter with Malfoy and his Love Prophecy Girls, not to mention her Seven Minutes In Hell with Tennant Rowle, Hermione kept her eyes on her plate during dinner. She also decided the school had had enough of a show and borrowed a grey cardigan from Padma.
Ginny was apparently dining at her undisclosed location that evening. There was much humorous speculation at the Gryffindor table about the redhead's activities, but Hermione didn't even smile. She thought the Weasley witch had been smarter than anyone this year.
For Hermione was convinced Tennant had set up that meeting with her, nicking items from Malfoy's wardrobe and lurking around the library corridor as the blond wizard. Clearly Tennant didn't trust Malfoy to obtain Hermione's help, so he was taking matters into his own hands. And he'd likely try again.
She ate quickly and headed toward the doors with a quick glance at the Slytherin table. Malfoy gloomed at one end of the table as usual. At the other end, Tennant was being fed his soup by one of his girls. Blaise Zabini sat on Tennant's right side, his lip curled at the sight.
Zabini. Was he one of the others Tennant had referred to? Unlikely. That wizard's attention appeared firmly fixed on Ginny. But who else could Tennant recruit among the Eighth Years? Malfoy was resistant, Theo contemptuous. Goyle was useless, Daphne too smart and Pansy would never risk mussing her hair. Maybe that Seventh-Year boy in Advanced Arithmancy, the one with the knitted snake sweaters—a seriously weird wizard. Boreman? Barnstable? Hermione was still trying to remember as she turned off the sixth-floor landing.
As Hogwarts corridors went, the Trophy corridor was quite utilitarian, with few windows or decorations. Wall torches were few and far between, and not for the first time, Hermione wondered why the awards won by Hogwarts' brightest stars were piled up in such a neglected area. According to the Map, the book portrait was at the end of the corridor, past the Trophy Room itself. Quite an out-of-the-way location, but then McGonagall was never a fan of Gilderoy Lockhart.
She walked past the Trophy Room, the clicking of her heels echoing in the empty space, and raised her wand. "Lumos."
A gold light flared, and Lockhart burst into view, as if he truly stood before her. The life-sized portrait extended from above Hermione's head to the floor, so well painted that she expected him to step out of the frame to hand her an autographed photo.
Instead, Lockhart struck a pose, one gloved hand on his hip, the other raised high. "GADDING WITH GHOULS" was painted in large letters over his head. Lockhart held his famous tea strainer as if it were a sword, but it failed to impress the ghoul, who slumped on a rock looking profoundly bored.
"'Zounds!" Lockhart cried, "A beauteous vision stands before me! Too simple is my wit to tell her praise!" The painted wizard bowed, giving the ghoul a quick kick. The ghoul raised his bulging eyes, sighed, and offered a clumsy bob.
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"Hello, Professor Lockhart," Hermione said, smiling despite herself. He had been her first crush. Silly, she knew—he'd been an incompetent teacher, not to mention an out-and-out scoundrel. But that hadn't stopped her from slipping little notes into her DADA essays that she now blushed to remember.
