Disclaimer: If you can spot song lyrics in here, they are
from The Scarlet Pimpernel. If not, then that is just as well.
My name is Gilderoy Lockhart and I am perfect.
And goodness, do I enjoy it.
It is quite simple, really. I'm one of those maddenly
gorgeous beings who have clearly only been put on this earth to torment the
other imperfect beings with the sight of the unreachable beauty before them.
Added to that, I am the five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming
Smile Award, the author of exactly seventy-nine books, including eight
books that are used as school-books at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and
Wizardry, sundry household aids, and the truest and most wonderful
autobiography ever written: Magical Me. I have had numerous letters of
witches that detail to me just exactly what they fantasize about when they ogle
those thirty pages of high-gloss color photos. And then there was that one
letter from that wizard with a really good imagination, but he unfortunately
lives in Bangkok.
However, it is not the sole point of my life to explain to you that Madame
Gladys Quersting of York has charmed my image onto
her teacups or that Mrs. Molly Weasley's dearest
dream would be for me to aid her in de-gnoming her
garden and for me to give her the recipe of that wonderful potion that adds
that extra wave to my hair, even though the latter is most impressive and,
judging from the picture she included, she does indeed need it. No. I am going
to explain to you exactly why I am perfect.
I have accomplished the extraordinary. I have descended into the Chamber of
Secrets by the sole aid of my extensive knowledge and my deduction and
problem-solving skills, as well as a truly brilliant use of magic. Among all of
the teachers in this school, I was the one chosen to descend into the Chamber
to save the life of an innocent first-year student who has been whisked away by
the Monster of the Chamber. Here I stand, alone and fearless and armed with
naught but a wand and really great robes, if I do say so myself. Designer
robes. I have a personnel department that does nothing but pick out my clothes.
And they do a wonderful job of it, if I do say so myself. They have even given
me an excess of lilac robes.
Lilac looks wonderful on me.
I must remember to appear in more public gatherings, so as to do the world some
good and to possibly take the world's mind off of things like hunger and
starvation and pellagra.
I wonder if that would merit the Order of Merlin.
Probably.
Which in turn would probably merit placement of my biography
and stunning picture on a Chocolate Frog card.
Note to gorgeous self: acquire the Order of Merlin.
Severus Snape
will never acquire the Order of Merlin.
It is his fault, anyway. No one with any taste whatsoever would dare to insult
my peaky dress sense or my closet. In the next book I write, I must remember to
mention something about rescuing Severus Snape from something evil, like pixies.
Pixies.
Shudder.
Severus Snape and pixies.
Snicker.
Very good plan, that is. Note to increasingly gorgeous self: lock Severus Snape in a broom closet
with an uncaged mess of rabid pixies.
I hope their bites cause blue bumps.
I am not normally a revengeful person, mind. I am perfect. I simply carry a
tiny grudge about people who send idiotic comments my way, ones that state that
I am a dressy priss with nothing else on his mind
besides clothing and hair.
Because it is quite untrue. I spend lots of time on my
teeth. That is the reason that they do not look as if I have been eating my own
nasty potions concoctions.
But my response to his rudeness was quite poised and spectacular. I simply
informed him that someone had to strike a pose and bear the weight of
well-tailored clothes. And that is why the Lord created men.
Not, as he seems to think, to produce enough hair-grease to oil down the
door-knobs of every blasted door in this castle.
That is probably where Filch gets his cleaning supplies from, come to think of
it.
Ick.
I will return to why I am perfect.
This, by the way, exists only in my brain, but I will immediately proceed to
write it down once I have defeated the Monster and return the Weasley child to her family. But I will prevail! I will
succeed! I am GILDEROY LOCKHART THE MAGNIFICENT!!
That was a rather loud bang.
Oh, my. Who is that tallish creature standing there? I am sure I have never
seen him before. He has clearly never paid attention to his hair. It is orange.
I wonder if he lives here.
That would explain his hair. I see no mirrors.
What if I am imprisoned down here? I do not remember getting here. How am I
expected to survive in a place without mirrors?
Dum-dee-dum. I am blissfully happy, twiddling that rat skull around my
forefinger. Rats have interesting skulls.
Ow!
Why did he kick me? I was sitting here peacefully, twiddling my rat skull, and
the orange-haired torture device takes it upon himself
to kick me. That settles it. I am in a torture chamber. First the outrage of
his hair, now the kicking…
Ow!
I feel a whine coming on.