|16| Chapter Sixteen

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S I X T E E N

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Lockhart made his way into the classroom, and the whole class, whether out of anticipation or dread were all ears. He studied the classroom carefully before clearing his throat, shushing Seamus Finnigan (which was a specular accomplishment seeing as the boy always had something to say). He picked up Neville's copy of Travels with Trolls, holding it up high for the class to see. He pointed at the handsome portrait of himself on the cover.

"Me," he winked at the class, and Saffron noticed Hermione grip the side of her chair tightly. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award - but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"

Saffron realised too late that he had wanted a reaction of laughter. She could only smile as laughing too late would make it clear that it was a pity smile.

"I see you've all bought a complete set of my books -well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about, just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in -"

Saffron's eyes widened. She knew what Lockhart had done, yes, but in terms of actually reading the books? She hadn't opened a page. As he handed out the test papers, she felt nervous. She was going to leave a very bad first impression on the man and first impressions were very important.

Hermione was already huddled over her paper so as to not allow Saffron or Harry, who were on either side of her, copy her answers. Sighing, Saffron looked down at her own paper and predictably couldn't answer a thing.

But not because it was about his defence books as per se, no, but because it was about who he was as a person. Saffron knew nothing about him other than he brushed up well, wrote a few books, and was called Gilderoy Lockhart. She didn't think she had to know anything else. But, she tried. Her trying, however, made no impact to any grade or impression she could get out of it. She didn't have the faintest as to what his secret ambition was, when he was born, or who gave him his first broomstick. All she felt certain of was that he won the most charming smile award from Witch Weekly, simply because he had said so minutes before.

After half an hour, Lockhart took up their papers, by hand, strangely enough, and was the embodiment of disappointment as he looked through them. Saffron's insides churned at seeing such a reaction.

"Tut, tut - hardly any of you remembered that my favourite colour is lilac. I say so in Year with the Yeti. And a few of you need to read Wanderings with Werewolves more carefully - I clearly state in chapter twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples - though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogded's Old Firewhisky!"

Saffron pouted. She wasn't exactly sure what he was playing at necessarily. He seemed to want to make the class about himself rather than about the subject of Defence Against the Dark Arts. However, she understood that she was no teacher and even though his methods weren't the norm compared to her other classes, it didn't automatically mean they were flawed.

". . . but Miss Hermione Granger knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions - good girl! In fact", he took another look at the paper and Saffron watched Hermione stretch up out of her hair as much as humanely possible. "Indeed, full marks! Excellent, now, where is Miss Hermione Granger?"

Trembling, Hermione raised her hand, holding her breath so much she too had gone bright red in the face.

"Good girl!" Lockhart beamed right at her, showing off his pearly white teeth. "Quite excellent! Take ten points for Gryffindor! And so - to business -"

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