Second Time Around

The Chamber of Secrets

"I'm an angel with a shotgun

Fighting till the war's won

I don't care if heaven won't take me back

I'll throw away my faith babe, just to keep you safe

Don't you know you're everything I have?"—Angel with a shot gun, The Cab

Darkness was falling as they walked down to Lockhart's office.

Draco almost didn't believe it; he was walking with Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. But he had a purpose. What he found even more incredulous was the fact that he was actually voluntarily heading for Lockhart's office.

"Why are we here again?" he said, tiredly.

"Because he might be useful," said Potter. Draco only really spoke to Potter, Weasley wasn't talking to him.

"As useful as a Flobberworm," he muttered and Weasley sniggered. Things were just getting stranger by the minute.

Potter knocked and there was a sudden silence from inside. Then the door opened the tiniest crack and they saw one of Lockhart's eyes peering through it.

"Oh - Mr. Potter - Mr. Weasley -" he said, opening the door a bit wider. "I'm rather busy at the moment -if you would be quick-"

"Professor, we've got some information for you," said Harry. "We think it'll help you."

"Er - well - it's not terribly -"

"Just let us in! Before I burn the door down!" Draco snapped and Lockhart looked surprised, obviously not used to being shouted at. The side of Lockhart's face that they could see looked very uncomfortable. "I mean - well - alright-"

He opened the door and they entered.

His office had been almost completely stripped. Two large trunks stood open on the floor. Robes, jade-green, lilac, midnight blue, had been hastily folded into one of them; books were jumbled untidily into the other. The photographs that had covered the walls were now crammed into boxes on the desk.

"Are you going somewhere?" said Potter and Draco concurred.

"Er, well, yes," said Lockhart, ripping a life-size poster of him from the back of the door as he spoke and started to roll it up. "Urgent call - unavoidable - got to go-"

"What about my sister?" said Ron, jerkily.

"Well, as to that - most unfortunate -" said Lockhart, avoiding their eyes as he wrenched open a drawer and started emptying the contents into a bag. "No one regrets more than I-"

Draco groaned. "I told you he was useless, come on let's just go." But Potter remained adamant and a little angry. "You're the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher!" he demanded. "You can't go now! Not with all the dark stuff going on here!"

"Well - I must say - when I took the job -" Lockhart muttered, now piling socks on top of his robes. "Nothing in the job description - didn't expect-"

"You mean you're running away?" said Weasley disbelievingly. "After all that stuff you did in your books-"

"Books can be misleading," said Lockhart, delicately.

"You wrote them!" Potter shouted.

"My dear boy," said Lockhart, straightening up and frowning at Harry. "Do use your common sense. My books wouldn't have sold half as well if people didn't think I'd done all those things. No one wants to read about some ugly old Armenian warlock, even if he did save a village from werewolves. He'd look dreadful on the front cover. No dress sense at all. And the witch who banished the Bandon Banshee had a harelip. I mean, come on-"