Hey guys! I know, I'm posting so soon it's insane! :D I am leaving for Alaska tomorrow and thus there won't be a new chapter for probably two weeks. :/ However, I give you this chapter that has barely ANY original dialogue/words!

The next morning, Harry was dragging himself out of bed for his least favorite class – besides potions – Defense Against the Dark Arts. The material itself was quite interesting but Professor Lockhart was a laugh. As the trio made their way down to the great hall for breakfast, he and Ron ragged on the teacher not noticing the light pink blush staining Hermione's cheeks. It wasn't until they were almost finished with breakfast that Harry noticed that Hermione had been staring at the head table the entire time.

"So 'Mione, I guess you aren't as into bookworms as we always thought you would be. Who knew that Hermione Granger of all people would fall for merely a pretty face?" Harry's laughter echoed around the table – Ginny and Colin stared awestruck at the green-eyed boy for a few minutes afterwards.

"Really Hermione, you like that prat?" Ron interjected.

"He's a great professor, and look at all the things he's done! He's even written his own books!" she defended herself, but the blush never left her cheeks.

The two boys laughed outrageously at her until she stood up and walked off with a little huff of indignation.

Thirty minutes later found the three of them sitting at the very front of the DADA classroom. Hermione had all of Lockhart's books out and unsurprisingly answered every question he threw at her correctly. If it weren't for the fact that Harry wasn't particularly fond of the professor he would have been overjoyed at the overall 100 points he gave Gryffindor during the lesson. At the end of class he asked both Hermione and Harry to stay behind, and Ron lurked by the door in waiting.

"First of all, Ms. Granger. I wanted to commend you on reading and remembering all of my books so accurately." Lockhart flashed her a dazzling smile and Harry tried not to roll his eyes.

"Well, professor. I find everything you've done to be so fascinating that I've actually read each of your books twice through!" Hermione's eyes were bright and her cheeks the lightest shade of pink. Harry was pretty sure he heard Ron gag in the back of the classroom. It was his turn to gag though when Lockhart turned to him with that same dazzling smile.

"Harry, you know that photo Mr. Creevey took a while back? Of course you do! That was your second photo with yours truly – anyway, you do remember how you wanted to pass out signed photos? I've had him make a whole bunch and you and I can sit down tonight after dinner and sign them to give out! Isn't that splendid?"

Harry paled dramatically but just nodded – he didn't need another professor hating him.

Dinner came and passed far too quickly for Harry's liking. It wasn't long before he was slowly making his way across the second floor corridor to Lockhart's office. He gritted his teeth and knocked. The door flew open at once and there stood Lockhart, beaming down at him.

"There you are, Harry! I see you spent a bit longer at dinner than I did. Oh well, growing boy and all that."

Harry walked into the office and grimaced as he noticed countless framed photos of Lockhart all beaming down at him. He had even signed a few of them. A large pile of photos lay on his desk and Harry gulped nervously.

"Here, look! It's the photo that young Mr. Creevey took. I took the liberty to make a few copies for us to pass out." He chortled at his understatement and Harry tried once again not to roll his eyes.

"Oh, and Harry? I'm going to send a few of these to my admirers and maybe some to the press. You know how great we looked on the front page before."

After Harry had signed the photos he passed them to the blonde man beside him who had spent the entire time looking in the mirror and mumbling.

"Oh, done already Harry? Good. You can address the envelopes!" He handed the stack of envelopes to Harry as though it was a big treat. "Make sure the Daily Prophet gets a copy will you?"

Lockhart continued with his rambling and Harry let the words wash over him occasionally responding with, "Mmm" and "Right" and "Yeah". Now and then he caught a phrase like, "Fame's a fickle friend, Harry," or "Celebrity is as celebrity does, remember that".

He wasn't sure how long he sat there, hand cramping, as he addressed envelope after envelope. He was pretty sure that the majority of these envelopes would be filled with pictures of Lockhart's dazzling smile, not Collin's photo. It must be nearly time to leave, he thought miserably.

And then he heard something – something quite apart from the spitting of the dying candles and Lockhart's prattle about his fans. It was a voice, a voice to chill the bone marrow, a voice of breath-taking, ice cold venom.

"Come . . . come to me . . . Let me rip you . . .Let me tear you . . . Kill you . . ."

Harry jumped out of his seat and gave a loud cry.

"WHAT?!"

"I know!" said Lockhart. "Six solid months at the top of the best-seller list! Broke all the records!"

Harry hadn't really understood how inane Lockhart was until that particular moment. A disturbing voice had just asked to kill them in a deadly whisper and the man was babbling on about best-seller lists!

"No," he said frantically. "That voice!"

"What voice?" Lockhart gave him a mixed glance of puzzlement and astonishment.

"That – that voice that said – didn't you hear it?" Harry was on the verge of hysteria at this point and Lockhart looked decidedly uncomfortable.

"What are you talking about, Harry? Perhaps you're getting a little drowsy? Great Scott – look at the time! We've been hear nearly four hours! Time really does fly when you're having fun!"

Harry didn't answer. He was straining his ears to hear the voice again, but there was no sound except Lockhart telling him to run off to bed as he thrust a photo in his hands and pushed him out the door.

It was so late that the Gryffindor common room was almost empty when he got back so Harry went straight up to the dormitory. Ron looked up from his own bed with a sympathetic grimace.

"How was it with Lockhart?"

Keeping his voice low so as not to wake their friends, Harry told Ron exactly what he had heard. The other boy was astonished and more than a little bit disturbed.

"D'you think he was lying about not hearing it?" Ron asked with a frown on his face. "But, I don't get it – even someone invisible would have had to open the door."

Harry was silent and soon Ron turned onto his side to sleep. The green-eyed boy, however, lay in bed for a long time staring at the canopy above him. "I don't get it either."

Thanks to all my lovely readers! PLEASEEEEEEEE review? :D

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