Reflections - Mattheo Riddle

Alice and Frank

"Typical Dad," said Ginny, shaking her head as they set off up the corridor. "Stitches . . . I ask you . . ."

"Well, you know, they do work well on non-magical wounds," said Kirra fairly. "I suppose something in that snake's venom dissolves them or something. . . . I wonder where the tearoom is?"

"Fifth floor," said Harry, remembering the sign over the Welcome Witch's desk.

They walked along the corridor through a set of double doors and found a rickety staircase lined with more portraits of brutal-looking Healers. As they climbed it, the various Healers called out to them, diagnosing odd complaints and suggesting horrible remedies. Ron was seriously affronted when a medieval wizard called out that he clearly had a bad case of spattergroit.

"And what's that supposed to be?" he asked angrily, as the Healer pursued him through six more portraits, shoving the occupants out of the way.

" 'Tis a most grievous affliction of the skin, young master, that will leave you pockmarked and more gruesome even than you are now —" "Watch who you're calling gruesome!" said Ron, his ears turning red.

"The only remedy is to take the liver of a toad, bind it tight about your throat, stand naked by the full moon in a barrel of eels' eyes —"

"I have not got spattergroit!"

"But the unsightly blemishes upon your visage, young master —"

"They're freckles!" said Ron furiously. "Now get back in your own picture and leave me alone!"

He rounded on the others, who were all keeping determinedly straight faces.

"What floor's this?"

"I think it's the fifth," said Hermione.

"Nah, it's the fourth," said Kirra, "one more —"

But as she stepped onto the landing she came to an abrupt halt, staring at the small window set into the double doors that marked the start of a corridor signposted spell damage. A man was peering out at them all with his nose pressed against the glass. He had wavy blond hair, bright blue eyes, and a broad vacant smile that revealed dazzlingly white teeth.

"Blimey!" said Ron, also staring at the man.

"Oh my goodness," said Hermione suddenly, sounding breathless.

Harry was shocked also, "Professor Lockhart!"

Their ex-Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher pushed open the doors and moved toward them, wearing a long lilac dressing gown. "Well, hello there!" he said. "I expect you'd like my autograph, would you?"

"Hasn't changed much, has he?" Harry muttered to Ginny, who grinned.

"Er — how are you, Professor?" said Ron, sounding slightly guilty.

It had been Ron's malfunctioning wand that had damaged Professor Lockhart's memory so badly that he had landed here in the first place, though, as Lockhart had been attempting to permanently wipe Kirra, Harry and Ron's memories at the time, Harry's sympathy was limited though Kirra felt a little bad.

"I'm very well indeed, thank you!" said Lockhart exuberantly, pulling a rather battered peacock-feather quill from his pocket. "Now, how many autographs would you like? I can do joined-up writing now, you know!"

"Er — we don't want any at the moment, thanks," said Ron, raising his eyebrows at Harry, who asked, "Professor, should you be wandering around the corridors? Shouldn't you be in a ward?"

The smile faded slowly from Lockhart's face. For a few moments he gazed intently at Kirra, then he said, "Haven't we met?"

"Er . . . yeah, we have," said Kirra. "You used to teach us at Hogwarts, remember?"