This is for the first round of the Triwizard Tournament on Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I had Valentines Day. At Hogwarts.

Cupid's Hart

Gilderoy Lockhart. Even the mere mention of his name seemed graceful. Maybe even - at a pinch - much like the deity Cupid himself.

At the very least, Gilderoy Lockhart saw himself as... Ahem, a 'ladies man', even at the tender age of fifteen. The Ravenclaw boy had already been forced to turn down no less than six proposals of a trip to Hogsmede.

He chose not notice that all six proposals came from students in lower years. Gilderoy's ego was big, but seemingly not big enough.

The one proposal he however did accept, came from a girl one year his senior.

Gilderoy straightened his bow tie (that was maybe a smidgen too formal), and smirked at himself in the full body-length mirror, looking himself up and down approvingly.

"Hello." He said to his reflection, practicing his 'deep and sexy voice'. "Ooh, yes. That's it."

His roommate - Adam Haynes - sniggered under his breath. Gilderoy good-heartedly ignored him; ignoring the urge to strangle the laugh out of his first and only good friend.

"It's Valentine's Day." He explained pompously, smoothing out his crisp bottle-blue robes. "A time for love, Adam."

Adam rolled his eyes, and flopped backwards into his bed, picking up a copy of 'Witches Weekly' (similar to the original version in all respects except the lack of clothing in this publication) and opening it to a random page.

"Love's for girls, Gilderoy." Adam forced out, holding back further laughter as Gilderoy looked himself up and down again. "I'm more interested in actually shagging the birds."

"No!" Gilderoy spun, seemingly affronted, like his friend's comment had mortally wounded him. "You don't just," He shuddered, for dramatic affect. "...'Shag them'. A lady likes to be wooed, romantically."

"Mary Waters certainly doesn't." Adam mumbled into the picture of a topless model on some beach in Cornwall.

Gilderoy's head snapped up, and his baby-blue eyes widened comically. "Pray, explain." He said cooly, adopting a formal turn of phrase that was better suited to a society of several hundred years before.

Adam groaned. Explaining the society of the early eighties was no mean feat, especially when the recipient was one Gilderoy Lockhart.

Why is it always me? Adam moaned internally. Oh, yeah. You're the only guy who will.

"Mary Waters does't want to be 'wooed'" Adam began, slowly and purposefully. "She wants a good shag."

Gilderoy turned a scarlet shade of red. "Um..." He trailed off, lost for words. "Excuse me..."

Adam watched, with a sick kind of Schadenfreude, as Gilderoy ran into the cramped bathroom that the boy shared with their dorm mates.

Two seconds later came the sound of someone retching into a toilet.