Gilderoy Lockhart is a hero of the magical (and everything else too) world

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***

Harry Potter's second year at Hogwarts was off to a great start. He was able to apply the knowledge he had received from Dumbledore last year in his Potions lessons, so Snape didn't take points off him, nor did he add any, of course. The professor tried not to notice him at all, only occasionally, when he thought Harry couldn't see him, allowing him to throw glances in his direction that promised swift reprisals. So Potter assumed it was just the calm before the storm, and kept his wand at the ready just in case. Harry realised, of course, that the Hogwarts professor couldn't just cast a spell on him, he would probably act in some more devious way. But everything was quiet in class, so Potter just allowed for the possibility that Snape would come up with something naughty, so he was wary.

But time passed, and there was no aggressive action on Snape's part, and Harry slowly began to relax. Gilderoy Lockhart as a teacher was not well liked by the students for some reason, in the early days he had been bullied in the corridors by many students, mostly Ravenclaw seniors. But Harry and Justin were not among them, the Defense Against the Dark Arts class had become their favourite. Lockhart quickly secured the top spot in the ranking of the best teachers according to Harry Potter, ahead of Flitwick and Dumbledore.

In his first lesson, Lockhart gave a big test on the books he had read by his author.

- Excellent, Potter, fantastic! - Lockhart shouted loudly as the students' work was being checked, waking a peacefully sleeping Zachariah. - Harry Potter, you really are a very talented boy. Zero mistakes in fifty-four questions, unbelievable! Such a result could not be shown by any student among all four faculties.

Harry was greatly surprised and flattered at the same time, even the incredibly bad pain in his broken nose didn't seem so bad anymore. He knew he had to have done well on this test, after all he had done nothing but read Lockharts books over the summer when he wasn't fleeing from Moody. But to not make a single mistake. That really was something out of the realm of fantasy.

Meanwhile, Lockhart continued:

- Incredible! Maybe, as a result of this story with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, you have gained incredible knowledge! Who knows, who knows, if you keep this up, then maybe someday... Someday you'll be able to reach my level as well. Just like me, you'll be wandering the world and helping the world," Lockhart winked mischievously. - Anyway, we won't know that for a while, but I'll always be glad to see you in my office, Harry.

This was overkill, serious overkill. The stick hadn't just been twisted a little, it had been twisted fifteen times and made into a dog. Potter was very embarrassed and interested in the state of his toes; he could feel the eyes of the whole class on him, but he stubbornly watched his big toe encircle the index toe on his right foot.

- I would also like to commend the work of Mr Finch-Fletchley and Miss Bownes, there are very few mistakes. On the whole nearly all your work is very good. You have done much better than your classmates from other departments. Why is that? When I was a student, the most erudite individuals, myself included of course, were in Ravenclaw. Could it be that this time the Allocating Hat had assigned all the smart ones to Hufflepuff?

Lockhart looked around the classroom, smiled his gorgeous smile, and gave another friendly wink.

- No, that's because our faculty is made up of stupid sheep," Zachariah whispered back to him. He made sure that Lockhart didn't hear him and continued: - "We're as dumb as my grandmother's right shoe, and we believe all the bullshit that some narcissistic asshole wrote in his shit-books, and Potter was brainwashed as a child, so this result is no surprise.

Harry thought he'd misheard him at first. Sure, he liked Zachariah a lot less than Ernie, but he'd never thought his roommate would have such an opinion of him. He'd insulted Lockhart, too - how could he disrespect him and talk about him like that? If Smith's hatred of Harry was justified, because he had lost a lot of faculty points last year, what did Lockhart have to do with it? Potter struggled with himself for a while, he wanted to answer Zack rudely, but he controlled himself and pretended he hadn't heard.

Lockhart was such a great teacher that he didn't even bother his students with tedious theory; it turned out that he had already prepared excellent material for the first lesson. He released a number of bright blue little people, 'pixies' he called them, from their cages before running out of the room and leaving the students to solve the problem on their own. In Harry's opinion, this was excellent practice: it made it easy to see who was capable of what. Most of the students hid under their desks or tried to leave the room in a hurry, and only a few students tried to fight, Harry and Justin among them. Finch-Fletchley mostly defended himself and only occasionally fought back with Furunculus, unfortunately to no avail, and Potter was curious as to how that spell worked on the little man the size of a finger. Zachariah stayed behind for some reason too, even though he didn't like the new teacher. He picked up a large wooden leg from a broken desk, half of which the pixies had thrown out the window, and swung it around, knocking a huge number of magical creatures to the floor.

It was worth noting that his actions were the most effective, even more effective than Harry's own. Potter did not know the spells that worked on the square, so he tried to experiment - he used spells that he had learnt about only recently. The Dormio spell worked well when hitting a pixie. He or she, or maybe it, Lockhart didn't say, and so Harry didn't know for sure if these creatures had a gender, passing out immediately. "Reciprocate" - a rather specific spell also found its use, thanks to it Harry was able to control the flight of pixies and direct them into a bucket that Susan Bones had unknowingly taken from wherever. But the Impedimenta spell could not be used, the interference spell simply refused to work. Potter made a small note in his head to learn how to use it correctly and learn a few more useful spells in the near future.

Thus, with the combined efforts of Harry, Justin, Zachariah, Susan, and three others, all the pixies were in the bucket in a stunned state.

- Do you know what I'm thinking? - Finch-Fletchley asked Potter as they walked out of the DADA room together.

- Not about how irresponsible Professor Lockhart was, I hope?

- No, of course not, I'm not one of those idiots. I'm thinking about what was probably the coolest class we've ever had.

* * *

Unfortunately, it seems that someone did complain about the DADA professor releasing magical creatures right in class, so there were no more battles in class. To Harry's delight, Gilderoy was not discouraged, he periodically started acting out scenes from Potter's much-loved books, in which the latter volunteered to play the lead role. Over the next month, Harry earned a place as Professor Lockhart's favourite student. In communication with him, Potter repeatedly quoted his phrases from his own book, which made the teacher incredibly delighted. Harry also took part in the organisation of a club of Gilderoy Lockhart fans, the idea belonged to Justin - though he said later in confidence that Hermione Granger had thought of it first - but Potter got involved in time and therefore considered himself a full-fledged co-founder.

When the DADA professor found out about the creation of the circle, he left Harry after class and, smiling his snow-white smile, gave him a book called I Am a Wizard. Potter already had one, but unlike the book he had bought at the bookstore, it was autographed by Gilderoy Lockhart himself. Harry had given the extra book - without the autograph, of course - to Ginny Weasley, because she didn't have one.

Harry was still unable to form an opinion on the newly minted Puffendu girl - her behaviour was shrouded in a thick mystery. Many extremes seemed to be woven into Ginny's character, tossing her to and fro. On one hand, she was incredibly sloppy, every time she saw Potter she constantly managed to drop, break or knock something over - everything was constantly falling around her. Then Potter decided that Tonks had a serious rival in the competition of who could drop the most things. But according to the Weasley's rather strange friend, Polaumna Lovegood, or whatever her name was, she was neat and never dropped anything. Harry didn't believe her at first, probably because before that, Polaumna had been beating the air with a racket, trying to kill some invisible 'brainshitters'.

However, Potter could see the truth of Lovegood's words for himself; once after school, he watched from afar as Ginny walked towards the Hufflepuff living room, carrying five plates at once, almost fully laden with food, and managing to keep her diary, which she never parted with, under her arm. Harry had thought for some time that she was very shy, almost always silent, and if she did speak, she never lied and only said the important things. However, that opinion was seriously shaken when Weasley told him in confidence that the Allocating Hat wanted very badly to send her to Slytherin. Slytherin! A faculty for cunning people, able to bamboozle a person and convince them to accept any point of view that favoured them. Harry tried to put the image of a Slytherin girl on Ginny and was completely confused. What was the first Weasley who hadn't made it to Gryffindor?

By the way, Ginny's brothers had had virtually no reaction to her not getting into Gryffindor. Harry didn't understand it, in his opinion there should have been some sort of global scandal. However, there was nothing of the sort. A bit of clarity was provided by George Weasley when Potter met him outside the kitchen.

- 'You know, Harry, I don't really care, to be honest. We don't have any 'family tradition' of going to Gryffindor, we just go, it just happens. And Puffenduys and Gryffindors have always been friends, but if she'd gone to Slytherin, that's a different matter. I mean, I wish she was a Gryffindor, but that's okay. For example, a lot of people think that Fred and I have this tradition of always finishing each other's sentences, but really we just know each other really well and say stupid things for fun. But we can exist separately, too, like right now, see? He's not even around.

- Yeah, that's because you're standing guard while he's getting food from the housekeepers, I know," Harry smiled. - Okay, thanks for clarifying, I get it. Bye, George.

George grimaced.

- 'Well, bad example, yes, but you get my point, that's good. And yes, by the way, I'm Fred.

The other Weasley, on the other hand, had a little spat. After the double defence against the dark arts, Harry and Justin had Ron waiting outside the office.

- Hey, Harry, Justin. Tell me, do you really not realise that Lockharts is just a stupid braggart and he's showing off and lying about everything.

- Oh God, here we go," Justin looked up at the ceiling and sat down on the floor.

- Yes, Ron, we think Lockhart is the last person here who could be called a stupid braggart. And I don't know who told you that, but...

- I said it to myself," Ron interrupted him. - No, seriously, look at him. He's a peacock. I mean, if it's okay with Justin, it's okay with you. Harry... I didn't expect this.

- Have you even read his books to draw such conclusions? - Potter was slowly starting to boil over. - How can he be lying if it's all there?!

- I've looked at this stuff, my parents spent a lot of money on it, and the books aren't worth a damn. That's not proof! Just because he says he did something doesn't mean he did it!

- Then what's proof? Just because you think he looks like a peacock? Is that what you think that's proof? - Harry was outraged.

- And you know what!

- That you're an idiot? We know, yes," Finch-Fletchley raised his voice, not taking his gaze off the ceiling.

Ronald Weasley blushed, and for a second it looked like he was about to lunge at them. Harry even had time to pick out the spell he would use if that did happen. But Ron had apparently changed his mind, he threw:

- Well there you go, pray on your Lockharts, you morons.

Then he turned and walked away towards the Great Hall.

- Bet you two galleons I hit him with a boil?

Harry looked back: leaning against the wall, Justin was pointing his wand at Ron's back. Who knew if it was a joke or not?

* * *

At the end of September, the Elemental brought a letter from Tonks. When Harry saw the owl flying towards him, he felt a slight sense of shame. When was the last time he had even seen her? Not until he'd gone to Hogwarts, but he'd been too sleepy to socialise with animals. The elemental didn't show any offence, it took a piece of pasta from Potter's plate and flew off to do its owl business. Harry promised himself that he would be sure to visit her soon and printed out an envelope.

"Hi Harry, how is Hogwarts? Does it miss me? I'm not asking about you, I know you're having fun there without me. I was at home when Professor Stable's letter arrived, Ma Andromeda didn't like it of course, I'm not sure about Ted, but I liked it. I'm glad you got over the past quickly and are now scuffling about... Way to go! I decided to write to you only to remind you to give me a birthday present, otherwise you'll forget... I'm just filling this letter with different words, just pretending to be interested in your affairs... Okay, I'm kidding, I hope you haven't managed to throw the letter into the fire yet? Anyway, in case you're wondering, I'm doing well, great even. Auror is a great profession, but the money's tight and I can't afford a separate flat, but I'll figure something out. That's the only downside. The people working with me are quite adequate, I used to think that there would be copies of Moody walking around, but in fact there is nothing like that. Mad-Eye is one of a kind. He doesn't teach me anything else, by the way, and he doesn't bother me. And that's awesome! I felt such freedom only at Hogwarts in History of Magic. Apparently, Alastor realised that I was a full-fledged Auror now, and I didn't need his paranoid instructions. Or maybe he just switched to you.) More accurately:( Yeah. I've only now realised that it wasn't because I got a job that he really stopped bugging me. And in general, I wrote it for nothing... But since I'm too lazy to rewrite the letter again, and I don't want to cross it out, I'll send it as it is.

P.S. Tell Cedric he's an arsehole. He knows why.

Nymphadora Tonks."

Harry finished reading the letter and set it aside. Of course, he wasn't going to pass anything or anyone on, but something really needed to be thought about with the gift. Yes, that fight had indeed been memorable. A rambling and rather fierce three-on-three battle. And it had started with Malfoy's usual provocation and the silly giggling of his idiot friends. And if they hadn't been seen by the other students, no one would have ever known about the fight. Harry had been in a good mood then, the herbology professor had re-seated the students, and the rather unpleasant task of transplanting mandrakes was not so unpleasant in the good company of Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, with whom he and Justin had not quarreled yet.

It all happened after Herbalogy, when they were on their way to a Defence Against the Dark Arts class.

* * *

- Hey, Harry, you remember me, right?

Colin Creevey approached Potter in one of the corridors.

- Of course I do, you make it sound like we've seen each other for about a hundred years.

- Just in case, look, I'm a Puffin too. How would you feel about... if I took a picture? - he picked up the camera and pointed it at Harry.

- Why? - Potter asked perplexed.

- To prove that you and I know each other," Colin continued, taking another step closer. - I know everything about you. I've heard so many stories about you, how You-Know-Who tried to....

- Oh my God, we get it, you can take a picture, I don't think Harry would mind," Justin interrupted him.

- Yeah, I don't mind, let's just make it quick," Potter confirmed.

The very thought of him being so popular that someone would want his picture seemed incredibly stupid... And yet, at the same time, rather pleasant. Harry used to be very wary of other people's attention, but after meeting a lot of nice people, Potter realised that the events of his childhood were just the exception to the rule. Piers and Dudley and their gang were very bad people, but there were almost no others like them in the world. He'd just been lucky enough to meet all sorts of unusual people. First Piers, now Moody, though there was definitely no comparison.

A short, bright flash, and the photo was taken. Colin made a happy grimace and asked hopefully:

- Could you sign the photo?

Justin's laughter was interrupted by Malfoy's loud mocking voice.

- Sign the photo? You, Potter, give out autographed photos of yourself?

No sooner had Harry answered him than Malfoy began to throat-punch loudly:

- Hurry up and get in line! Harry Potter is signing autographs!

Crabbe and Goyle laughed in synchronised obsequiousness. It was as if they were rehearsing their reactions to Malfoy's jokes.

- Shut your mouth or you'll get it again, this time from me," Justin snapped at them.

The mention of the previous fight, which had ended rather sadly for him, had finally pissed Malfoy off.

- You try it! - Draco said and turned to Harry. - You won't catch me off guard this time, Potter.

- Fuck no," Justin disagreed and shouted loudly: - Harry! Shut him down!

- Stupefy! - Potter reacted instantly.

The spell hit Malfoy in the chest before he could even raise his wand.

- Something pretty simple," Harry smiled and immediately fell backwards from a hard blow to the head.

Despite his serious external dimensions, Gregory acted very quickly and in a couple of spurts was able to get within striking distance of Potter. Harry fell down, nearly stamping his wand with his foot, but it didn't break, just flew off at arm's length.

Potter tried to reach for it, but Goyle wouldn't let him. He sat on him lying down, landing one blow, another.

- Furunculus! - Justin shouted.

Goyle fell over and grabbed his face.

- Furunculus! - Justin sent the same spell at Crabbe, but he dodged it.

- Dantisimus! Petrificus Totalus! - Vincent shouted.

Finch-Fletchley jumped back from the first spell, but the second one hit the finger of his right hand and he fell to the floor paralysed.

Taking advantage of the respite, Harry made a dash for his wand and attacked Crabbe.

- Dantisimus!

- Petrificus Totalus! - In some incredible way, Crabbe managed to react. The two spells ricocheted off each other and flew into the wall!

- Furunculus! Stupefai! Escuro! - Potter continued to attack.

Crabbe was let down by his physique. He fought off the first two spells, but he decided to deviate from his strategy and tried to dodge the third, but the beam hit him in the side and Vincent's mouth began to foam.

- Stupefy! - Harry consolidated his success.

The red flash hit the spitting Crabbe unimpeded.

"Nice spell. Good thing I learnt it." - Harry thought.

In the next second, however, Potter was about to learn the simple truth: "A lying Goyle is still a Goyle." Almost Confucius.

Ignoring the huge boils on his face, Gregory punched Harry in the nose with all his might. He flew off into the wall and fell to the floor, his acacia wand flying far down the corridor and blood gushing from his nose. Goyle didn't even try to use his wand, he headed towards Potter, but the one that everyone had forgotten about was the one who got into the fight.

Colin Creevey came at Gregory with a loud battle cry of "A-A-A-A!" and began to hammer him with all his might. Goyle's huge body was suddenly unable to withstand the blows of the frail freshman and fell to the floor. Harry fumbled for the first wand he could find and shouted as hard as he could:

- Stupefy!

The red beam from the spell flew next to Goyle and almost hit Colin. Harry's miss gave Gregory no chance to respond, he was losing the hand-to-hand battle with Creevey and was trying to swing away.

- Stupefy! - Taking careful aim, Harry said.

This time the spell hit Goyle's stomach, putting an end to the fight. Realising that the fight was over, Creevey lay on the floor and tried to catch his breath.

- Colin? - Potter called out to him softly.

- Yes?" Creevey stopped breathing loudly and looked at him fearfully.

- 'When we get back to the Hufflepuff common room, I'll sign the picture and get you a photo shoot.