The Chamber of Desire [ Tomarry

A Maelstrom

(Warning; I cried while writing this. Also, I won't pretend to know the feelings of other people, but this could potentially be triggering for certain people. Proceed with caution.)

October 16th, 1992.

Five minutes before he had to leave for Charms, Harry was standing in front of his bathroom mirror, trying to make his hair seem as unpresentable as possible. It wasn't very hard.

Why, you may ask? The Charms tutor was horrible. Harry wasn't blind— he could see all the looks the tutor gave him, and it was quite disgusting. The boy knew that he already had a soulmate, and the thought of cheating made him sick to the stomach. And if the tutor wanted to be an asshole, why with Harry? The man may be thin, but his face wasn't that bad— straight white teeth, high cheekbones, curly blond hair, light blue eyes, a single dimple— he could probably get any witch or wizard... if they were assholes enough to cheat on their soulmates as well, at least.

So, Harry was wearing his mask, some black robes, and the ring Tom had given him for his birthday. He had also asked Tom if he could give him a couple hickeys, which Tom gladly gave, so that maybe the tutor would give up.

He probably wouldn't, but it was worth a shot.

"Fucking Lockhart," he muttered to himself, gracefully walking down the stairs. "How come no one can see how much of a stupid wanker he is?"

It was true. When Harry had asked Tom about why he had hired him, he said that the tutor, Lockhart, had released books about everything he could do— and apparently he was exceptional at Charms. Harry wasn't caught in that. He had seen Lockhart's attempt at an obliviate— a fairly simple spell— at the masquerade, and it didn't even work. Besides, Harry read a chapter from his book Voyages with Vampires— he was pretty sure Lockhart knew only half of the words he used.

Fucking fraud. He called it.

Personally, Harry thought that Lockhart had somehow managed to obliviate people after they told him their stories, then he took the credit. But he didn't want to seem paranoid, so he didn't tell anyone about his idea.

Until Ron came up to him and told Harry that he thought Lockhart was stupid. They had really had a rant that night.

Everyone else thought Lockhart was wonderful— Hermione practically worships him, Draco hangs on to his words, Luna drifts off like she usually does, Neville is just like he usually is in all the classes, and the twins haven't even pranked him yet— and it's been a month!

On that thought, Harry opened the door to Charms, where everyone was already seated and looking ready for the day— except for Ron, who had clearly been dragged downstairs by Hermione.

Harry made his way to the only seat ('in the back, thank Merlin,' Harry thought to himself) and plopped down. Immediately, Lockhart came whooshing through the door with his robes billowing after him. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Welcome, class!" He exclaimed as he stood in front of the teenagers, his arms open wide. "Thank you for coming."

'Believe me,' Harry thought while rolling eyes eyes, 'if I had the choice, I wouldn't be here.'

~

An hour later, Harry was ready to be done with it all. Lockhart was using him as a test subject, again.

"Now, the proper wand position is— hold on," Lockhart stopped himself. He stood behind Harry, close enough for his chest to touch Harry's back, and moved his arm position, before moving it back to where it was. "There we go," He whispered