Silver Hourglass

Mudbloods and Murmurs Chapter 14

Detention with Lockhart was worse than any detention Harry had to serve, be it at Hogwarts or his old muggle school. Lockhart's office had a huge portrait of the man, smiling at Harry as he opened the door. Lockhart beamed at him. "Ah, here's the scalawag!" he said, "Come in, Harry, come in—"

Harry saw that there were several signed photographs on his wall. Another large pile lay on his desk. "You can address the envelopes!" Lockhart told Harry, as though this was a huge treat. "The first one's to Gladys Gudgeon, bless her—huge fan of mine—"

The minutes snailed by. Harry let Lockhart's voice wash over him, occasionally saying "Mmm" and "Right" and "Yeah." Now and then he caught a phrase like, "Fame's a fickle friend, Harry," or "Celebrity is as celebrity does, remember that."

The candles burned lower and lower, making the light dance over the many moving faces of Lockhart, watching him. Harry moved his aching hand over what felt like the thougsandth envelope, writing out Veronica Smethley's address. It must be nearly time to leave, Harry thought miserably, please let it be nearly time. ...

"You know Harry, I must say you are very brave, or at least very glory seeking." Lockhart mentioned.

"Sir." Harry said, wanting this to end.

"Well Harry, being sorted into Slytherin I mean. That has caused headlines last year, don't think I saw." Lockhart beamed, smiling. "You know, I was almost sorted into Slytherin. Although the old hat changed it's mind at the last second and placed me in Ravenclaw. Yes, it was afraid, that silly hat, to place the greatest wizard in the world in Slytherin. Ahh the headlines I would have made."

"But sir... Albus Dumbledore is the greatest wizard alive." Harry corrected him.

"Yes, well he is of his generation. I am talking about my generation Harry! And yours of course! Now, the next one goes to Victoria Tallsy.

And then he heard something—something quite apart from the spitting of the dying candles and Lockhart's prattle about his fans.

It was a voice, a voice to chill the bone marrow, a voice of breathtaking, ice-cold venom.

"Come...come to me....Let me rip you. ...Let me tear you. ...Let me kill you. ..."

Harry gave a huge jump and a large blot appeared on Victoria Tallsy's street.

"What?" he said loudly.

"I know!" said Lockhart. "Six solid months at the top of the best-seller list! Broke all records!"

"No," said Harry frantically. "That voice!"

"Sorry?" said Lockhart, looking puzzled. "What voice?"

"That—that voice that siad—didn't you hear it?"

"Lockhart was looking at Harry in high astonishment. "What are you talking about Harry? Perhaps you're getting a little drowsy? Great Scott—look at the time! We've been here nearly four hours! I'd never have believed it—the time's flown hasn't it!"

Harry didn't answer. He was straining his ears to hear the voice again, but there was no sound now except for Lockhart telling him he mustn't expect a treat like this every time he got detention. Feeling dazed, Harry left.

It was so late that the Slytherin common room was almost empty. Harry went straight up to the dormitory. Everyone else was sleeping. Exhausted, Harry pulled on his pajamas and climbed into bed, immediately falling to sleep.

October arrived, and with it the rain and damp chill that is associated with late fall. Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, was kept busy by a sudden spare of colds among the staff and students. Her Pepperup potions worked instantly, though it left the drinker smoking at the ears for several hours afterward. Ginny Weasley, who had been looking pale, was bullied into taking some by Percy. The steam pouring from under her vivid hair gave the impression that her whole head was on fire, which gave Draco and Harry some amusement as they giggled whenever they saw her.