What Would You See?

What Would You See ?

By Ada Kensington

With a graceful leap, pirouette and a half twist that should have been accompanied by a dazzling flash of sunshine and little twittering bluebirds - Gilderoy Lockhart flounced into the staff room with a tremendous bang, as the door hit the wall and rattled on its rusty hinges. Grinning from ear to ear and showing off to full sparkling effect, his brilliant white teeth, Gilderoy jogged down towards one of the chairs near the roaring, crackling fireplace just as several other professors happened to be leaving (so sorry, Gilderoy, got marking to do - you know how it is).

He flopped down happily into a deep, squashy old armchair and looked over to the other chair opposite his. Sitting, in a forest green, high backed, velvet armchair, staring fiercely over a book at him - was Severus Snape.

"Hello, Severus," Gilderoy said, smiling widely at his scowling colleague.

Severus ignored him - and turned his diverted attention back to his book.

"How were your little treasures today, then?" Gilderoy asked, undaunted, despite his colleague´s overt display of animosity.

Professor Snape´s eyes rose slowly up to meet Gilderoy´s. Smiling suddenly, his black eyes glittering with malice - he placed his book down slowly and deliberately on the little table next to his armchair. Without averting his gaze, he sat back in the chair - steepling his fingers - his face half shrouded in the convenient shadows created by the chair, half illuminated by the madly flickering flames of the fire - looking intentionally gaunt and intimidating, in order create maximum discomfort. It was a technique that he used fairly often in classes - and was a technique that never failed.

"Once again - with the exception of the majority of my Slytherins, who, as per usual, manage to gain acceptable marks - the classes were abysmal."

Gilderoy was just about to open his mouth to speak, when Professor Snape overrode him.

"...The Gryffindors in particular were their usual tiresome, troublesome selves - brewing grossly inadequate potions - if I could bring myself to call them potions," Snape said silkily. "Either too thick, or too thin. Watery diluted messes or stodgy, turgid soups and in the more extreme cases of idiocy - burnt solid and encrusted round the bottom of the cauldrons for all eternity, no matter how many scouring charms I cast. Volatile, exploding concoctions that plaster the dungeon walls with a vivid, poisonous living ooze - which just happens to cover half the class, who have to be carted off to the hospital wing due to one idiot dunderhead of a Gryffindor called Neville Longbottom."

Gilderoy mouthed soundlessly for a moment, a little shaken by this sudden, angry outburst from Professor Snape and smiled a confused smile as Severus´s stare continued to burn into him from within the shadows of the dark armchair. However, being Gilderoy, he recovered himself and plastered on his customary wide, glittering smile again and sat forward in his chair - casting a sly, conspiratorial wink at his stony-faced colleague.

"Well, Severus. You know that Potions is quite a difficult subject to teach at the best of times - and when you have unruly students to teach - well, even the best of us have difficulties..."

The silence was deafening.

Professor Snape blinked and slid forward towards Gilderoy in one fluid, menacing motion and stopped only when he was eye to eye with the now nervously smiling and fidgeting Lockhart.

"Are you saying, Gilderoy," Snape whispered in his most deceptively silky tone, "that I have difficulty in teaching my students? That I do not have the knowledge to teach the subtle science and exact art that is potion making? Nay, that I am incompetent?"
Gilderoy actually considered this.

"We-ell..." he began, with an irritatingly condescending smile at the now furious Professor Snape. "Maybe, if you´d let me have a crack at it - I mean, I´m starting on a new book at the moment - Hogwarts Conquered, by Magical Me - and well, to be perfectly honest, Severus, the experience would be good for both you and I. I´ve heard the potions classes are pretty grim and with me showing you a few tips, well, maybe you wouldn´t have so many explosions, eh?"
Severus considered this.

"How about," he replied after an extremely awkward pause, " I shove your offer up your arse and shrivel your overly large head to reveal the empty, brainless, fluff-filled crevice that it really is - then display it on a spike above the entrance hall for all to see and be thankful for - thereby ridding the public of yet another incompetent, irritating, menace to society?"

Gilderoy´s perfectly polished peachy cheeks turned a violent shade of crimson and he started blustering and mouthing indignantly. Who was this horrible, rude man with his horrible, greasy, black hair and his horrible sickly complexion to insult him like that? I mean, who could teach a class - any class - better than he could? Well...maybe some - but that was beside the point. But where could you find a more loved, popular and respected teacher anywhere in the world? Nowhere! And certainly not a horrible, sarcastic, bitter man like Severus Snape.

"Well," said Gilderoy, rising and dusting himself down as if Professor Snape´s insult had somehow stained his soft, forget-me-not robes. "It is understandable what drives your enmity towards me - and I must say that I do not blame you in the least. I mean to say, it must be a little overwhelming to be suddenly working alongside one so experienced and well-informed in his subject - I mean, my adventures are legend" he said, laughing affectedly. "But I must say that I´m surprised, Severus. I really didn´t think you´d be one to give in to sour grapes."
With that, Gilderoy proudly turned his back on that nasty Potions Master and with a flick of his sun kissed locks, strutted out of the decidedly old and very uncoordinated staff room - leaving behind a furious Severus Snape (which, when he thought about it, was probably for the best.

Flouncing through the corridors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the way which only Gilderoy Lockhart could pull off after a job considered well done - he climbed up the stairs (well, when I say climbed, it was more...pranced...) and headed in the general direction of his quarters. I say "general" because moments later, he found himself totally and utterly lost in what seemed to him to be a long deserted corridor.

The place was absolutely frightful. Caked with a layer of thick dust, the floor bent round to reveal another strange stretch of corridor, marred now by two sets of faded, wavering footprints and some equally faded little paw prints.

Gilderoy noted that all the prints led, mysteriously, into the same room, and then a thought occurred...

Slytherin´s monster...

He was just about to make a run for it when...

"Lost, Lockhart?" sneered a cold and most unwelcome voice.

"Severus!" Gilderoy exclaimed brightly, whirling round. "What a most pleasant surprise!"

"I´m sure," Professor Snape said, smiling nastily. "The Headmaster sent me to check up on you, in case you´d gotten lost again."

"Ah? Well. Dumbledore need have no fear. It won´t happen again," Gilderoy replied gravely. "Not now that I´ve gotten my bearings."

"Most fortunate," Severus sneered. "Then I can leave you to find your own way back to your quarters?"

Startled, Gilderoy quickly surveyed his surroundings. To his left - stood dark, deserted corridor. To his right - stood more dark, deserted corridor. Right in front of him - stood Severus Snape. He wasn´t sure which frightened him the most...

"Err...well...yes, of course. Of course, Severus. Of course you may," he said quickly. "I-In fact, yes, in fact I was just taking a little look around up here because I´ve had a hunch for a while now that Slytherin´s monster could be hiding out somewhere near here. I´ve been tracking it for a while now - and it seems that this room - this very room - could be the place!"

At that moment, Professor Snape had to fight very hard to choke back a derisive snort of laughter at Lockhart´s absolutely disgusting, and (if he didn´t loathe the man so much) pitiable exhibition of his mindless egotism, and Gilderoy - being not completely without brains - had noted this with increasing amounts of anger and indignation. He could positively feel his cheeks glowing scarlet with embarrassment. The red would almost certainly clash with the forget-me-not. This would not do.

He was just about to open his mouth and tell Snape exactly what he thought of him, when he saw the look on Severus Snape´s unusually pale face that stopped him - with barely concealed surprise - in his tracks. It was a queer look - very strange, really. Completely out of character for the man. It was - what was the word - a rather... faraway look, and where his colleague´s eyes had once glittered with malice - they were now glossy and cold, staring woodenly at the very doorway that Gilderoy had previously the aspirations to leg it from. It was a queer look - and it unnerved him.

"Err... Severus, old chap?"

Nothing.

"Severus?"

Another awkward pause.

"Severus? I say, are you all right there? Severus?"

Suddenly, Snape´s thin hand jabbed through the air and mercilessly gripped Gilderoy´s shirt collar tightly like a psychotic grindylow, and pulling him forcefully towards him, Snape whispered venomously into Lockhart´s ear:

"So, Lockhart. You wish to see a monster? Then follow me. Now."

Snape dragged Lockhart choking and spluttering down the dusty, deserted corridor with his face grim and set. Kicking open the door, Snape threw Gilderoy onto the filthy floor, then, kneeling down beside the mass of dishevelled, blonde curls - he grabbed a handful of them with his vice like grip and forced Lockhart´s head upwards.

"You see that, Lockhart?" Snape hissed, pointing to something that Gilderoy couldn´t quite make out due to the choking clouds of dust in front of his eyes.

"Err...see what, Severus? I do declare that I haven´t the foggiest idea as to what you´re pointing at!" he whined - being Gilderoy, replying as only he could reply in a potentially hostile situation such as the one he was currently in.

Severus´s grip released, and Gilderoy´s hair was saved for the time being.

"Well get up and look then," Snape snarled. "Go on!"

Right at that moment, Gilderoy was practically wetting himself with terror. No, honestly! Lockhart swore he could feel something cold and wet running down the inside of his trouser leg (turned out that it was sweat - but the man was in a tight spot - what could you do?) and with the brooding malevolent shadow that was Severus Snape behind him - who could blame him? Despite all that, however, Gilderoy - being as egotistical and proud as only he could ever be, rose up (a little shakily) from his knees and, once standing, tossed his golden curls jauntily (although the effect was rather spoiled by a large cloud of dust puffing out from his hair and engulfing him for a few moments). After he had finished choking, he shot Professor Snape a sufficiently confident look (oh dear Merlin, it was running down to his shoe!) and started stalking, melodramatically, into the dark heart of the room where the beast apparently lay. Anyway, he reassured himself, if the beast did decide to show up - he´d be out of there faster than Salazar Slytherin at Godric Gryffindor´s five thousand years of Gryffindor reunion bash.

But what an anticlimax! After all that unnecessary acting, worry and strife - there was no beast at all (honestly, that Severus!) There was only a magnificent, solid gold mirror that, with it´s ornate and grandiose, glittering extravagance, appealed directly to Gilderoy´s superficial sensibility. He couldn´t resist it! He just couldn´t! It was so incredibly gorgeous! He just had to have a look...

Upon stepping up to the mirror, Gilderoy´s reflection rose smokily into vision - complete with flawless curls of pure, fresh-spun gold, bright, baby blue eyes and his own soft, flowing, forget-me-not robes. Extremely pleased with the likeness - Gilderoy became increasingly enraptured with the mirror (he had to have this mirror in his quarters - as an accessory, it was a must!) and gave himself a jaunty wink.

Then, to his utter surprise - his reflection dissipated mistily into the mirror, and just when he thought that it had gone - it reappeared and... Oh!

He was wearing the most gorgeous set of fitted robes from Madame Malkin´s. They were the most luscious shade of cream imaginable and they had a beautiful long flowing cape - casually thrown over one shoulder. They were trimmed with shimmering gold that perfectly complimented his shimmering hair and he had cream breeches! And cream shoes! With gold buckles, too!

His heart was full to bursting at this wonderful sight. Everything was positively perfect! Then, as if by magic, he remembered all at once. He turned to Severus - who was still standing in the shadows, with his face twisted into a scowl - beaming idiotically at him.

"Oh, Severus! Cream really is my colour!" he shrieked with delight.

At that, Professor Snape´s scowl darkened further (if it was at all possible) and he shook his head, sneering disgustedly and turned on his heel and strode out of the room without a backward glance. Gilderoy was past caring, however, and intended to stay a little while longer, whether he could find his way back to his rooms or not - and that was quite a shame, for if he had been paying enough attention to someone other than himself - he would have heard Snape´s last few whispered words, before he walked out of sight:

"Right there before you, is your monster, Lockhart. I bid you good night."