Half Blood Royalty

Moste Potente Potions

I ran through the crowd of students exiting Lockhart's classroom towards the back of the room where Harry, Hermione, and Ron had been waiting.

"Ready?" Harry muttered.

"Wait till everyone else is gone," Hermione spoke out nervously, eyeing the door before speaking around, "Alright.." She approached Lockhart's desk, clutching a piece of paper tightly in her hand. The three of us standing right behind her. "Er- Professor Lockhart?" Hermione stammered out, "I wanted to- to- to get this book out of the library. Just for a little background reading." She held out the piece of paper as her hand was shaking ever-so slightly, "But, the thing is, this book is in the Restricted Section of the library, so I- I need a teacher to sign for it. I'm sure it would help me to understand what you say in Gadding with Ghouls about slow-acting venoms, and-"

"Ah, Gaddling with Ghouls!" Lockhart said, taking the note from Hermione and smiling widely at her, "Possibly my very favorite book. You enjoyed it?"

'Unbelievable,' I spoke quietly to myself. Harry gave me a short jab to the ribs, giving me an eye as to remind me to shut up.

"Oh, yes," Hermione spoke eagerly, "So clever... the way you trapped that last one with the tea strainer..."

"Well, I'm sure no one will mind me giving the best student in the year a little extra help," Lockhart said warmly, pulling out an enormous peacock quill. "Nice, isn't it?" He said, misreading the disgusted looks on Ron and I's face, "I usually save it for book signings." He gloated, scribbling an enormous, loopy signature on the note before handing it back to Hermione.

"So, Harry," Lockhart turned his focus onto my older brother while Hermione had folded the note with fumbling fingers and slipped it into her bag, "Tomorrow's the first Quidditch match of the season, I believe? Gryffindor against Slytherin, is it not? I hear you're a useful player. I was a Seeker, too. I was asked to try for the National Squad but preferred to dedicate my life to the eradication of the Dark Forces. Still, if ever you feel the need for a little private training, don't hesitate to ask. I'm always happy to pass on my expertise to less able players such as-"

"Harry doesn't need any help when it comes to Quidditch." I told Professor Lockhart, stepping slightly in front of my older brother to divide Lockhart away from him.

"I was just-" He put his hands up.

"I know what you were trying to do," I told him, "He doesn't need your help."

Harry covered his mouth to stifle his laugh before grabbing my arm and getting out of the room, catching back up with Ron and Hermione. "I don't believe it," Harry spoke out loud as we all examined the signature on the note, "He didn't even look at what book it was that we wanted."

"He's a brainless git, that's why." Ron stated, "But who cares? We've got what we needed."

"He's not a brainless git." Hermione defended Lockhart as we walked quickly, almost running, towards the library.

"He is." I told her, "There's something about him that is just-" I paused, "There's just something about him. It feels... off."

"Besides," said Ron, "You only think that because he said you were the best student of the year."

We all dropped our voices as we entered into the muffled stillness of the library. Madam Pince was a thin, irritable woman and Hogwarts librarian. "Moste Potente Potions?" She repeated suspiciously, trying to take the note from Hermione; who was refusing to let it go.

"I was wondering if I could keep it." Hermione spoke breathlessly.

"Oh, come on." Ron snatched the note from her grasp and handed it over to Madam Pince, "We'll get you another autograph. Lockhart'll sign anything if it stands still long enough."