Not Again//Harry Potter [2]

6

The lunch bell rang at the end of class and all the students ran out of class to go eat lunch in the Great Hall -- that is, all except Autumn, Hermione, Harry, and Ron, who was whacking his wand furiously on the desk.

"Stupid-useless-thing," Ron spat, groaning.

"Write home for another one," Harry suggested as the wand let out loud pops like a firecracker.

"Oh, yeah, and get another Howler back," said Ron, stuffing the now hissing wand into his bag. "'It's your own fault your wand got snapped—'"

The four sat in their regular spots in the Great Hall; Hermione next to Harry and Ron next to Autumn.

"What've we got this afternoon?" asked Harry, taking a giant bite out of the drumstick in his hand.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione immediately.

"Why, have you outlined all Lockhart's lessons in little hearts?" Ron questioned, looking at her schedule.

Hermione snatched the schedule back, blushing furiously. 

Autumn laughed. "I don't understand the big deal about Lockhart. Why is he so 'amazing'?"

"He's done so much for everyone." Hermione had no hesitation in answering. "He received many prestigious awards, such as The Order of Merlin, Third Class, and is an Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League."

Autumn nodded, somewhat appreciating what he did, but still not liking him that much. He walks around the school acting as if everyone knows who he is, and that he can do whatever he wants.

They finished lunch and went outside into the overcast courtyard. Hermione sat down on a stone step and buried her nose in Voyages with Vampires again. Harry, Autumn, and Ron stood talking about Quidditch for several minutes. Autumn didn't speak more than just a few times, seeing as she wasn't too big on Quidditch; maybe it was because Harry's almost died playing it. Harry then turned his head to face Colin Creevey, the same boy from earlier in the day, still holding his camera.

"Alright, Harry?," he said breathlessly, taking a tentative step forward. "D'you think-would it be alright if -- can I have a picture?" he said, raising the camera hopefully.

"A picture?" Harry repeated blankly.

"So I can prove I've met you," said Colin Creevey. "I know all about you. Everyone's told me. About how you survived when You-Know-Who tried to kill you and how he disappeared and everything and how you've still got a lightning scar on your forehead and a boy in my dormitory said if I develop the film in the right potion, the pictures'll move." Colin drew a great shuddering breath of excitement and said, "It's amazing here, isn't it? I never knew all the odd stuff I could do was magic till I got the letter from Hogwarts. My dad's a milkman, he couldn't believe it either. So I'm taking loads of pictures to send home to him. And it'd be really good if I had one of you."

Autumn stared at Colin then at Harry, speechless. 

"Maybe your friend could take it and I could stand next to you? And then, could you sign it?" Colin suggested.

"Signed photos? You're giving out signed photos, Potter?" Loud and scathing, Draco Malfoy's voice echoed around the courtyard. He had stopped right behind Colin, flanked, as he always was at Hogwarts, by his large and thuggish cronies, Crabbe and Goyle. "Everyone line up!" Malfoy roared to the crowd. "Harry Potter's giving out signed photos!"

"No, I'm not," said Harry angrily, his fists clenching. "Shut up, Malfoy."

Autumn put her hand on Harry's shoulder. "Just walk away, Harry. He's not worth it." Autumn glared at Malfoy.

"You're just jealous," piped Colin.

Autumn internally groaned. Who was this first year and why did he keep meddling with affairs that didn't affect him? She appreciated his courage, but this was not the time nor place for him.

"Jealous?" said Malfoy. "Of what? I don't want a foul scar right across my head, thanks. I don't think getting your head cut open makes you that special, myself."

Crabbe and Goyle were sniggering stupidly.

"Eat slugs, Malfoy," said Ron angrily. 

Crabbe stopped laughing and started rubbing his knuckles in a menacing way.

"Be careful, Weasley," sneered Malfoy. "You don't want to start any trouble or your mommy'll have to come and take you away from school." He put on a shrill, piercing voice, "If you put another toe out of line—"

A knot of Slytherin fifth years nearby laughed loudly at this.

"Weasley would like a signed photo, Potter," smirked Malfoy. "It'd be worth more than his family's whole house—"

Ron whipped out his taped wand, but Hermione shut Voyages with Vampires with a snap and whispered, "Look out!"

"What's all this, what's all this?" Gilderoy Lockhart was striding toward them, his turquoise robes swirling behind him. "Who's giving out signed photos?"

Harry started to speak but he was cut short as Lockhart flung an arm around his shoulders and thundered jovially, "Shouldn't have asked! We meet again, Harry!"

"Come on then, Mr. Creevey," said Lockhart, beaming at Colin. "A double portrait, can't do better than that, and we'll both sign it for you."

Colin fumbled for his camera and took the picture as the bell rang behind them, signaling the start of afternoon classes.

"Off you go, move along there," Lockhart called to the crowd, and he set off back to the castle, Harry's arm locked in his hand.

Professor Lockhart took Harry back up to his classroom, leaving the three alone at the courtyard.