As Professor McGonagall handed out the schedules, she paused to inform Harry and Ron that Ron's parents had flooed over their trunks. Surprisingly, Harry had completely forgotten that he'd left the trunks in the car when he'd sent it back and so he hadn't even been worried. He probably would have noticed that they didn't have any belongings at the school except that the all-night party had ended just half an hour ago, so there really hadn't been time. That would explain how Mrs. Weasley knew that they'd taken the car, though. Ah well, the lack of supplies could have been really bad but catastrophe averted.
Hermione had wanted to head out to the greenhouses early, but Ron and Harry insisted on going back for their supplies. According to her, they shouldn't have been so irresponsible as to forget them, but, well, they were.
Once they finally reached the greenhouses, they saw the rest of the class already standing outside. And pointing and laughing at the panicked expression on Ron, Neville, and Hermione's faces as the four raced across the grounds. Harry, on the other hand, would have preferred being late as that almost certainly would have ended up meaning a loss of house points. Speaking of, maybe he should admit to hijacking the car after all, that should be good for at least a hundred points lost. Still, Harry wasn't quite sure if that would be worth the 'one more toe out of line' threat or giving up the notoriety of getting away with it.
Professor Sprout didn't even seem to notice their tardiness, however, as she was too busy trying to see just how much her body language could scream 'GO AWAY AND SHUT UP I DON'T CARE' to Gilderoy Lockhart before he'd take a hint. Unfortunately for her, Lockhart was immune to such mundane things as whether or not his listener was seconds away from stabbing him with a spade.
"Greenhouse Three today chaps!" Professor Sprout managed to get out when Lockhart paused to take a breath. When Lockhart's eyes swept over the class appraisingly, she made good her escape.
Harry, still looking to lose points, took his time and paid for that dearly. No sooner had he begun to lag behind then Lockhart spotted him.
"Harry!" Lockhart shouted, sounding far more enthusiastic than he had any right being. "I've been wanting a word – you don't mind if he's a couple minutes late, do you…Oh dear, I do believe she's left already. Well, I'm sure she won't mind at any rate." He eyed Harry critically. "Harry, Harry, Harry. When I heard - well, of course, it was all my fault. Could have kicked myself. Don't know when I've been more shocked. Flying a car to Hogwarts!"
"Um, actually Professor, the rumor is that I flew a car to the Express. And I'm not actually admitting to anything, mind you, so you don't need to worry that people will think you've been a bad influence on me," Harry reassured him, wondering vaguely why Lockhart felt the need to keep saying his name. It was kind of creepy. And rather irritating; he didn't like his name that much.
Lockhart chuckled. "Of course, of course. It'll be our little secret. Still, of course, I knew at once why you'd done it. Stood out a mile. Harry, Harry, Harry."
Harry twitched. Seriously, if Lockhart didn't quit this annoying habit of repeating his name over and over and sounding rather perverted, Harry couldn't possibly be held responsible for his actions during the Cornish Pixie…lesson, he supposed was the word, but they really hadn't learned anything except Hermione was smarter than their Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor and really, hadn't they all already thought that? Well, the male students, at least. And the non-enamored females.
"Because I under the mistaken impression that you were Draco Malfoy, you didn't get to make the front page with me and so you had no choice but to fly a car to the Express in order to finally get that publicity I just know you've been craving," Lockhart beamed, clearly proud.
Harry just stared at Lockhart. Did he even read the paper? "But…I didn't make the front page. It wasn't even mentioned in the paper at all because no one has any proof that there's more truth in that than the persistent rumors that my Draco Malfoy is the lovechild of Narcissa Malfoy and Professor Snape."
Lockhart chuckled. "Ah, yes. I did hear about that. I didn't want to say anything, of course, but I've always suspected…in fact, I made sure to mention that fact in my autobiography. Now everyone can know the truth of such a touching love story. Why, it's a modern day Romeo and Juliet, isn't it?"
Harry had to fight to the urge to burst out laughing. Oh, Draco was going to kill him.
"I feel obligated to warn you not to let the fame go to your head. You're still young; you should take it easy, alright? You'll have plenty of time to figure out what you want to be famous for, how to go about accomplishing that, and how to manage your fame when you're older. Getting yourself expelled for pulling stunts like these, well, it will certainly earn you a little notoriety in the short-term, but it won't last and it will put a damper on any and all future plans," Lockhart told him seriously.
Harry was shocked. He had no idea that Lockhart had put this much thought into cultivating his fame, but he supposed it made sense. After all, he'd as good as admitted that the only aspect of magic he was particularly proficient in was memory charms so to have built up the reputation he had only on the strength of one spell…Well, that was damn impressive, Harry was forced to acknowledge.
"And you need to be even more careful because a few people have heard of you, haven't they? All that business with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!" Lockhart laughed. "I know, it's not quite as good as winning Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award five times in a row, as I have – but it's a start, Harry, it's a start."
Dear God…Harry had been so confused and affronted that Lockhart thought he was just attention-seeking that he hadn't even realized but…Lockhart was joking. He didn't actually think that a smiling competition was more fame-worthy than mysteriously vanishing Voldemort. Maybe he wasn't such an idiot after all. Granted, he was still practically a Squib, too self-centered to pay attention to what anyone else thought of him, and unscrupulous as hell, but definitely not an idiot.
"Professor," Harry began as Lockhart was about to walk away. "Your style of fame seems to be to be the popularity contest kind. I mean, yes, your books detail the adventures of you dealing with Yeti, Werewolves, Vampires, and several other assortments of magical creatures but…that all seems to be besides the point, isn't it? Your readers don't buy the books because they really care about all of that, they just like you and your heroic deeds are just an excuse for them to get to hear more about you and keep you in the public eye. You make sure that you're always in the back of people's minds by winning contests like the Witch Weekly one you told me about. It's quite a clever strategy and if you don't do something really stupid, it should be able to evolve with the times and keep you in the public eye for as long as you choose to be so."
Lockhart stared at Harry incredulously for a moment before he smirked. "Impressive. I take it that's not your style?"
Harry shook his head. "No, I don't need to worry about people forgetting me because that's just never going to happen, at least not in my lifetime. I disappeared from the magical world for ten years immediately following my ascension to 'hero' status and yet parents have been telling their children bedtime stories about me all this time, despite the fact that no one even knew anything about what happened that night at Godric's Hollow. I don't need to remind people that I exist and since everyone is so enamored with me already, I can just basically do whatever I feel like because unless I do something really stupid, the bad PR resulting from expelling me or anything of the sorts would just make it not worth it. Using this immunity, I can bolster my fame and popularity among my peers by such daring escapades as last year's little Treasure Hunt and allegedly flying a car to the Hogwarts Express."
"That's a little callous, don't you think?" Lockhart asked, not bothered in the slightest.
Harry shrugged. "Perhaps. Don't get me wrong, I would do anything for my friends and I wouldn't just leave them to suffer the consequences that I can evade using my fame, but I have to be careful. If I don't carefully navigate things then what's to stop some gossip-mongering journalist or pissed off bureaucrat from doing irreparable harm to my reputation and making sure I'm not in a position to be able to help the people I need to? It's called being proactive."
"Well, you clearly know what you're doing so I wish you well. May both of our fames continue to grow in the years to come," Lockhart told him sincerely and continued on his way.
Harry shook his head to clear it. Having a serious discussion with Lockhart was not something that he had ever thought he'd do in either timeline. Ah, well. He was far certain that he was far more than just fashionably late, so maybe he would get some points taken off after all.
When Harry entered the greenhouse, Professor Sprout was just about to unpot a Mandrake. When she saw Harry slip in, she stopped and took her earmuffs off. "And where were you?"
"I was chatting with Professor Lockhart about how famous we both are," Harry deadpanned.
Professor Sprout narrowed her eyes. "I see. Ten points from Gryffindor for your tardiness, Mr. Potter. You can discuss your fame on your own time."
"Yes!" Harry cheered as he slid into a seat next to Neville.
"I wouldn't get too excited," Neville told him. "Hermione earned fifty while we were waiting for you."
Harry through his head back and wailed, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Curses, foiled again. How could you, Hermione? I thought we were supposed to be friends!"
Hermione just rolled her eyes. "You'll get over it."
"Face it mate," Ron told him frankly. "Dumbledore likes you way too much to let you lose the House Cup."
"Or hates me too much…" Harry muttered.
Ron ignored him. "Even if you and Snape do manage to end the year at a hundred points or so-"
"And the lowest House Point total ever was 116 and that was Gryffindor 1978," Hermione interrupted.
Harry couldn't help a quick smile from flitting across his face. That was the Marauder's seventh year and clearly they'd gone out with a bang.
"Right," Ron nodded. "Even if you managed that, Dumbledore would still end up giving Gryffindor 400 points for whatever really stupid thing you and anyone stupid enough to go along with you without any sort of explanation beyond your 'scar said it was a good idea' felt the need to do that will land you in the hospital wing for the entire last week of school."
Harry hung his head, knowing they were right.
"Right, so if Mr. Potter has been brought up to speed, everyone put your earmuffs back on," Professor Sprout ordered.
Harry just shook his head, unable to believe that she honestly thought they were actually on topic. Fortunately, he he'd done extensive research on Mandrakes over the summer in preparation for this year's petrifactions. He didn't think he actually had anything to worry about until Halloween, though. After all, if an eleven year old could resist Voldemort for two or three months – depending on when she'd started using the diary – Pettigrew certainly could.
----
"Hi, Harry," Colin Creevey chirped excitedly. He looked nervous, but determined. "I'm Colin Creevey. I'm in Gryffindor, too."
"I know," Harry said quietly, remembering how pale Colin had looked in death, and how small. He had no business sneaking back into the castle to fight Voldemort, he was only sixteen. "I saw you get sorted."
"You did?" Now Colin was really red. "D'you think – would it be alright if –can I have a picture?" he asked, raising his camera hopefully.
"Alright," Harry agreed slowly. If it had been anyone else or if Colin hadn't given his life long before his time, Harry would have refused and used the opportunity to banter with Draco and Lockhart but…It was strange. He'd thought it was endearing when Ginny had come back to fight despite being too young but that's because he'd never thought she'd die. He'd never thought Colin would die, either.
"Hermione, would you?" he asked, taking the camera from Colin and handing it to Hermione, figuring she was most likely to know how to operate.
Standing next to Colin, Harry smiled as the flash went off.
----
"I'm just saying it's weird," Ron said again as they headed towards Defense.
"And I'm just saying leave it," Harry retorted irritably.
"But you hate it when people get all crazy and star struck around you, so why would you-" Ron tried again.
Harry whirled around. "Because he reminds me of a friend of mine who died, okay? Now just drop it."
Ron paled, as he always did at the thought of death. Even at twelve, he was still so sheltered.
Harry took a deep breath and then headed to his seat.
"I see you've all bought a complete set of my books – well done," Lockhart was saying. "I thought we'd start today with a little quiz…"
As Lockhart continued to drone, Hermione turned to Harry and glared. "I still can't believe that you didn't buy the books. How can you possibly pass this class if you don't get the textbooks?"
Harry sighed dramatically. "First of all, they're not textbooks, they're storybooks. Secondly, I'm a celebrity. I come with a built-in BS ability. Third, Lockhart would never risk the wrath of his adoring public by flunking the Boy-Who-Lived-And-Or-Silenced and finally, it's all about the final exams anyway."
Hermione still didn't look happy, but Lockhart just placed a quiz down in front of her so she was forced to let it go.
"Let's see…" Harry muttered, staring at his own quiz.
1. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?
Famous (formerly, Hot Magenta).
2. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?
To be able to take credit for every dangerous magical creature that's defeated anywhere in Europe.
3. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?
The building and management of his adoring fanbase.
And so on it went until finally Harry got to the last question:
54. When it is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, what would his ideal gift be?
The recent defeat of a dangerous magical creature in a mysterious manner with no witnesses.
He was pretty sure that his answers differed from what was in Lockhart's books – not that he had ever read them, of course, but still they were bound to contain fewer references to his Obliviating habit – but he still felt that they were appropriate and somewhat accurate.
Glancing through the tests, Harry could tell when Lockhart got to his because he just stopped and stared at it for a few minutes before shaking his head and moving past it without a word.
When Lockhart was done giving the class the answers (and Harry and Ron were consequently done playing Wizarding Chess, Neville was done watching them, and Hermione was done lecturing them about the importance of paying attention while simultaneously taking notes like the girl genius she was), he moved on to the next part of the lesson: Cornish pixies.
Harry tuned out Lockhart's attempt to convince the class that Cornish pixies were, in fact, highly dangerous creatures because he didn't think he could stop himself from saying something that would probably land him a detention. Normally, he wouldn't care, but there was no way in hell he was going to get stuck answering Lockhart's fan mail again.
"Right then," Lockhart declared grandly, throwing open the door to the pixie cage. "Let's see what you make of them!"
Harry watched impassively as the released pixies rushed around the room destroying everything.
"Peskipiksi Pesternomi!" Lockhart bellowed after waiting until the class was suitably impressed. In did absolutely nothing. Perhaps it was a joke spell? Like the one the twins had given Ron to change Scabber's color?
"Have you tried immobilis?" Harry suggested, pointing at one of the pixies and while the class turned to watch the pixie fall, he discretely pointed his wand at the other pixies and cast several silent freezing charms.
"H-how did you do that?" Seamus asked.
Harry rolled his eyes. "With my incredible awesomeness, we've been over this, God."
"Well done, Harry!" Lockhart beamed as he brushed himself off and got out from behind his desk. "Fifty points to Gryffindor."
Harry sat frozen in horror. "No matter what I do…there's no escaping it…just kill me now."