Hyacinth POV
The common room was loud with the usual end-of-term chaos, but Fred and George had managed to snag me, Hermione, and Ron into a corner near the fire. The twins were practically vibrating, which always meant trouble.
George grinned like a Kneazle with a fat canary in its mouth. "We've been working on something special."
Fred whipped a cloth off the table with dramatic flair. Sitting there was a squat, enchanted mirror with gilt edges and a cracked corner.
I frowned. "A mirror?"
"Not just a mirror," Fred said. "An insult mirror. It only insults the person whose face it sees."
George tapped the glass. Instantly it hissed out, "Honestly, comb your hair, you look like a haystack."
Ron burst out laughing. Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose. "You can't just let that thing loose. It'll cause chaos."
"That's the point," George said cheerfully.
I leaned in, smirking despite myself. "And who's the target?"
Both twins answered in unison. "Lockhart."
Ron nearly fell off his chair laughing again. Hermione muttered something about rules but didn't argue too hard, which was as good as permission in my book.
By the end of the planning session, it was decided, this would be our last hurrah at Hogwarts. The mirror would fly through the Great Hall at lunch and make Lockhart's life miserable. My job was simple, I just had to make sure no one connected the dots back to us.
The Great Hall was already buzzing when the twins slipped the mirror out of George's satchel. The charms layered thick over the frame made it hover, then zip forward like a golden snitch on a sugar high. It swooped right in front of Lockhart's peacock-blue robes.
"Merlin's beard, what a ghastly smile," the mirror sneered. "Did you glue those teeth in?"
The Hall erupted with laughter, forks clattering to the table. Even a few professors hid smiles behind their goblets. Lockhart's face went scarlet. He waved his arms like he could banish it, but the mirror swooped right back, cackling insults louder each time.
"You call that hair? I've seen better nests in a doxy infestation!"
Lockhart sputtered, trying to comb his curls into place with his fingers.
The mirror twirled in a loop around his head and sniped, "Nice robes... shame about the man wearing them."
A ripple of laughter rolled through the students.
"Oh, excuse me, did you write those books yourself, or just borrow the quills of people braver than you?"
Even McGonagall's lips twitched before she snapped them shut.
Lockhart lunged, nearly tripping on his ridiculous peacock-blue hem, while the mirror zipped just out of reach.
"Careful now, wouldn't want to pull a muscle posing!"
By then, the Hall was howling with laughter and I had tears streaming down my face.
"Vanity that strong should be registered with the Ministry!"
"Someone get this man a comb, or a hat, or a bag for his head..."
Laughter shook the rafters. I clutched my ribs, tears stinging my eyes. Hermione covered her mouth to keep from laughing but failed miserably. Even Neville was doubled over.
Then everything stopped as Lockhart stood with his wand was in his hand, his face twisted with rage.
Then he pointed it straight at me and yelled,
"Obliviate!"
The spell shot like a bolt of white lightning.
My breath caught, but before I could even think to raise my wand, Fred yanked the mirror back with a Summoning Charm, and hurled it in front of me like a shield.
The curse struck the glass, and light shattered across the Hall, rebounding straight back at Lockhart. His eyes went wide, then blank, causing his wand to clatter to the stone floor as he swayed, dazed.
Gasps filled the air and Professor McGonagall was on her feet in an instant, fury in every line of her body. "Gilderoy Lockhart!" Her voice cracked like thunder.
Snape moved just as fast, cloak snapping behind him as he strode forward. For a terrifying second I thought he might hex Lockhart into the next century, but instead he stopped in front of me, he was like a living wall between me and the chaos. His eyes flicked down, making sure I was unharmed.
As for Dumbledore... his expression was carved in grave disappointment, but I saw it... the flash of cold calculation in his eyes. He wasn't furious that Lockhart had attacked me. He was furious the spell hadn't worked.
Hermione was the first to reach me after the Professors, crushing me in a hug so tight I could barely breathe. "Are you alright? Are you hurt?" She rattled off.
Neville leaned close, his voice shaky. "He could have..." He trailed off, his face pale.
Draco had appeared out of nowhere, standing stiff as a board but close enough to hex anyone who looked at me wrong.
"I'm fine," I said quickly, my voice steadier than I felt. "Really, it didn't touch me. The twins have fast reflexes."
Madam Pomfrey stormed in from the side doors, wand flashing over me with diagnostic charms. I submitted to it without protest, even though I knew I was fine. It was easier than fighting her fussing.
Meanwhile, the rest of the students in the hall were dead silent as Lockhart babbled nonsense, grinning like a fool and asking if anyone had seen him before and a bunch of random questions.
He didn't even know his own name.
By the time Aurors arrived to escort him out, the laughter was gone. Whispers were flying through the castle. A professor had fired a spell at a student, and it had backfired for all the castle to see.
Eyes kept darting toward me, some full of worry, others with something like awe. I hated all the attention, but I kept my chin up.
That night, I curled up with my mirror, my blankets pulled tight around me. It pulsed, and Dad's face filled the glass. His eyes softened, but his expression was hard, and tight with fury.
"Cinthy. I heard."
I swallowed. "I'm fine. Really."
His jaw clenched. "He cast Obliviate at you. In front of everyone. If Remus hadn't held me back, I'd have gone straight to Hogwarts and hexed that peacock until he was begging for St. Mungo's."
"Dad." My voice wobbled, but I made myself meet his eyes. "I'm okay. The twins had the mirror, and it bounced back on him. It didn't touch me."
Silence stretched, heavy.
Then his shoulders sagged, and he dragged a hand over his face. "Bloody hell, Princess."
A tiny smile tugged at my mouth. "You should have seen it. The mirror called him a haystack before he tried it. And then when it rebounded..."
Dad's lips twitched. He tried to hold it in, but then the laughter hit, rough and helpless. I laughed too, both of us shaking until my tears blurred the glass.
When we finally calmed down we were both breathless, he said, "You've got a way of scaring the life out of me and making me proud in the same bloody day."
I pressed my fingers to the mirror and said. "Love you, Dad."
His eyes softened. "Love you too, Princess. Now sleep, before I gray another hair tonight."
The mirror dimmed, leaving me in the dark, my heart was still pounding but lighter somehow.
Lockhart was gone, his memory as empty as his books, and the year was almost over.
And I was starting to think we'd made it through the worst of it.