Darwinism | hp

018: The Cursed Match

✧༺ ☾ ༻∞

Marilyn waited after Defence Against the Dark Arts class, as Ron nodded to her, and Harry whined about having to pretend to be a werewolf all class, and Hermione was dragged out by him.

Marilyn waited for the last of the students to leave, before walking up to Lockhart, who sat behind his desk.

"Um - Professor?"

"Ah! She speaks!" He flicked his head, as if to flick his head out of his face (it was so thick with product it didn't move an inch) and his signature smirk fell upon his face. "What can I do for you, Monroe?"

"L-I just need a book, sir." She decided not to correct him, as she held out a note in her hand. "But, it's in the restricted section, so I need a teacher to sign for it. I just want to make sure that there's no venom or anything in my wounds."

"Ah, I can check that for yo-"

"No, thank you, Professor. I know at some point you were just a . . . young, stupid student like me. So, I'm hoping to do as much learning as I can. Then maybe I can have my own . . . books, too." She almost gagged, but hid it with a fake smile.

"Ah. Inspiring the young." He took the note, smiling. "It is what I live for, I always say it. You may never be as great a writer as me, Miss Monroe, but you will be great if you keep to that line of thinking." 

He took out a humongous peacock feathered quill, and Marilyn's eyes widened.

"Ah, yes, beautiful, isn't it?" He smiled, as he signed his name in large, looped letters. "I usually save it for book signings, but who am I to deny a fan?"

He handed her back the note with his scary smile, and before she could leave, spoke again.

"So, Marilyn, as I hear it, the first Quidditch Game of the season is tomorrow. Gryffindor versus Slytherin, am I right?"

"Yes, sir." She folded the paper, putting it in her book bag.

"Ah, how nice it will be to see another school game. Used to be a Seeker myself, you know.  They asked me to play Nationally but I turned it down, I prefer the quiet life of eradicating evil from the Earth. But, as I've said previously to your friend Harry, feel free to ask for personal lessons. I'm always happy to pass on my knowledge to the less-able . . . "

"Um . . . thank you, Professor, but, um . . . " She struggled to think of an excuse. "I wouldn't want an unfair advantage."

"Oh, we can keep it quiet." He chuckled. "but, nonetheless, I will wait for your call. now, be off with you. I know you wish to stay, but you can't be late for your next class."

"Yes. Thank you, Professor."

She met Ron, Harry and Hermione right outside the door, handing the paper to Hermione and turning to pretend to hit her head into the wall, but Harry pulled her away.

"Didn't even look at it!" She sighed. "He just wanted to tell me he's a better Seeker than me! Oh, I love spite. My mother always told me it's bad, but I bet it's what's made me so good at Quidditch, and it's what's going to help me win it tomorrow."

Not long after, they were in Myrtle's bathroom, reading up on the large, dusty book that they had taken from the library, Hermione reading it. 

"This is the most complicated potion I've ever seen," Hermione scanned the page. "Lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed and knotgrass. Well, they're easy enough, they're in the student store cupboard, we can help ourselves. But look, powdered horn of a Bicorn, don't know where we're going to get that. Shredded skin of a Boomslang- that'll be tricky, too. And, of course, a bit of whoever we want to change into . . ."