Babbling

Excerpt from Gilderoy Lockhart's Private Journals, copyright 1992, Gilderoy Lockhart. Not to be reproduced without the express permission of the author, or in the case of misfortune, his publishing company, Magical Me Publications.

August 1992. Second Year Gryffindor Class.

'A volunteer, then?' One or two waving hands shoot up, the illustrious Miss Granger among them. I spot my usual assistant next to her, head down, busily writing away. Bless him.

The youngster wants fame so badly, he craves it, you see, but he doesn't know how to get it. Such an opportunity for him, having me here to teach him the ropes, but he doesn't realise it. Why, every time I see Harry nowadays, there's somewhere else he has to be. 'I have Quidditch practise, Professor,' 'a meeting with Professor McGonagall, sir,' 'I'm late for detention with Snape, Sir,' if only the lad would realise these activities will not help him with his pursuit of fame and adoration. Spending time with me, however... well, okay, the Quidditch might help him; after all, I was asked to play Seeker for England you know. Alas, I'm afraid the public needed me more.

I wish I could just sit him down, and say, 'Now, Harry, you really need to make a plan. After all, you can't get worldwide recognition on the strength of one tiny achievement. It's all very well and good vanquishing You-Know-Who, but that was eleven years ago! You need something new, something fresh! After all, if I'd rested on my laurels after I saved the wizarding world from the notice of the Muggles in the Eternity Code incident... well, I don't think I'd have won Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile award. I might have won it once, I suppose. Maybe twice. But definitely not five times!'

But I can't say that. There are some things Harry needs to discover for himself. But I can help him in other ways - draw him out of his shell, as it were. Help to place the focus on him without making it obvious - after all, if he's near me, people can't help but to notice him, can they?

'Harry! Good lad, up here a moment, please!' Miss Granger looks faintly disappointed, I can't blame her, of course, but she doesn't need as much help from me, I must admit. Quite a brain on that girl. Why, she remembered more about the Brisbane Billywig attack than I did! Or at least, that's what I let her believe. It's important to nurture the young ones - that's good advice for all you teachers in training out there!

He gets to his feet, slowly - that's the way, lad, make them take notice, make them watch - and walks to the front of the room. Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley give him encouraging smiles - it's important for a young man to have friends, of course, but he wants to watch they don't start taking attention way from him. Especially that young Weasley fellow. There's something about him. No respect. Jealous, I'd wager. Not of Harry, oh no, of me, naturally. It's perfectly natural to be jealous, of course, but one would hope to channel that jealousy into something a little more productive than snide remarks.

'Right, then Harry,' I say cheerfully, not wanting to let thoughts like those interrupt my lesson. 'We're looking at the Babbling Curse today! Page 314 of Holidays With Hags (RRP 25G, available Flourish and Blotts UK, F&B US, F&B Europe, F&B Australia Pacific, or Owl Order Magical Me Publications!), please!' The class opens their books. Is there anything like having a class full of impressionable youngsters hanging on your every word?

'I trust you've read it Harry?' He shakes his head. Well, now, that won't do. I look at the class. Miss Granger is nodding, and so is Miss Patil, but the others... Miss Brown and Mr. Longbottom at least look somewhat chagrined.

I sigh. 'I suppose I shall have to read the story to you before we re-enact it, then.' I settle into reading position, centre of the room, and quickly arrange my robes so they fall neatly.

'It was a dark and stormy night in Transylvania...'

(Sabrina edits to say: This is a long-winded and pompous tale of how he cured a villager of a Babbling Curse. If I were to leave it in, it would take the entire memory of the site. Gilderoy understands that sometimes, in the spirit of sharing, cuts have to be made to allow others their chance to publish.

Gilderoy edits to say: The whole story is in Holidays With Hags (RRP 25G, available Flourish and Blotts UK, F&B US, F&B Europe, F&B Australia Pacific, or Owl Order Magical Me Publications!) If you're interested in this thrilling and exciting tale, as well as many others, of course, please order this book. It makes a great Christmas present as well, or a birthday present, of course. Who wouldn't want one of my books?)

I can see I've thrilled them with this tale, but now it's time to teach. It's no good simply telling them how to do it, now I've got to show them. It's all down to me. I'm up here, at the teacher's desk, alone, noble, brave, just a little reckless and rakishly handsome, if I do say so myself, but mainly alone and brave.

'Uh, Professor?' Oh, yes, and Harry's here, too.

'Yes, now, Harry, if you'll just put this cloak on... no, a bit more messy... and just take your glasses off, he didn't have glasses... now, babble.'

'Babble, Professor?' His green eyes look sort of unfocused and, well, stupid. At least he's got the simple villager look down, I suppose. There are some people in the world who find it charming.

'Yes, Harry, babble! It was a Babbling Charm I cured this poor, unfortunate soul of, of course. I don't know what he'd have done if I hadn't been there. Still be talking nonsense about giant spiders and world wide webs, I suppose.' I laugh generously. How hard can it be to babble nonsense? I don't know why the lad isn't jumping at the chance to show off a bit, in front of his classmates.

He looks at me, then at his friends. Weasley is trying not to laugh, I can tell - I just don't trust that one - and Miss Granger is still smiling encouragingly. Young Harry seems to take heart from this, and begins to talk.

'Um, this is me babbling and I don't know what I should say cause Professor Lockhart really didn't tell me what to talk about so I'm just going to say stuff and...' he breaks off and looks at me. 'Professor, maybe you should use someone else?'

Mr. Finnegan calls out. 'Lavender can talk about nothing for hours,' he says helpfully.

Miss Brown stops her whispered conversation with Miss Patil and says 'Seamus Finnegan! I do not talk for hours, and if I do, it certainly isn't about nothing! How dare you say such a nasty thing about me! It isn't nice, and I don't like it. You never say mean things about Parvati, or Hermione, why is it always me? I don't do anything to deserve it!'

'See?' Mr. Finnegan says, grinning, as Weasley, Mr. Thomas and Mr. Longbottom laugh.

'Settle down,' I say. It's important to keep control of a class, make sure they know you're the one in charge - another good tip for you teachers out there!

'Come on, Harry, you'll be fine. It's natural to be a little nervous, I was, too, of course, but you have to just put it behind you and say, "I can do this." After all, if I'd let nerves get the better of me while I was fighting the Wagga Wagga werewolf... well, the impossible would have occurred, and you children would have a werewolf for a teacher!' I laugh at the very idea of it.

Harry nodds bravely. At least, I think it was bravely. I'm sure it was.

'This is me babbling again, and I'm not as good as Lavender at it, but I'm going to try, so I'm going to tell you the plot of one of my aunt's soap operas, cause I can't think of any story that's longer and makes less sense, or maybe I'll talk about Quidditch, cause Dean looks really bored at the thought of a soap opera, and so does Hermione, but then Parvati and Lavender looked bored with Quidditch. I could just talk about what a git Malfoy is, cause we all agree on that, but then I'd probably use some word that Professor Lockhart would have to give me detention for, and then Wood would kill me for getting detention, and I don't really want to be killed over detention, and Professor, is this enough or do I have to keep going, just nod if it's enough, and you're shaking your head so I'll keep going and where was I? Oh yes, Malfoy's a git and so are his gorillas...'

Excellent. Harry's really shining now. The class is laughing at him, listening to him. Such an honour to think I'm the one that's given him his first taste of true fame.

I grasp my wand carefully, staring down my adversary. For he is no longer Harry. He is a simple Transylvanian villager, cursed and ravished by the Babbling Curse. It's all up to me. I am, after all, this poor man's only hope for a normal life.

'Watch me now, class!' I cry as I lift the wand to perform the complicated counter-curse.

'...and tonight, my homework is six inches on Snapping Dragonlilies for Sprout, and twelve inches on moonstone for Snape...'

'Boetlamanius boam!' I cry. Nothing happens, but of course, it wasn't the real curse, so nothing was supposed to. Harry stops talking and looks at me. 'Excellent, Harry, well done,' I say, allowing him to go back to his seat. 'Now class, that was the correct way to counter a Babbling Curse,' I say, watching them all take notes. Well, nearly all. 'Yes, Miss Granger?'

'Professor, the Babbling Curse is only a level one hex isn't it? Couldn't you have just used Finite Incantatem?'

Lovely girl, Miss Granger, but sometimes the dear girl has no idea.

'Oh, my dear girl, no,' I say, ready to explain, but at that moment, the bell rings.

'Homework: draw and colour an illustration of the Transylvanian villager and myself! A signed copy of 'Voyages with Vampires' to the best one!'

The class files out. Sometimes teaching is exhausting, but it's always worth it. It's worth it for the looks on their precious faces, filled with admiration and gratitude - excepting that suspicious Weasley boy, of course - and worth it for boys like Harry. It's worth it, because I know I am making a difference in that boy's life - helping to set his future path, to give his life the same meaning as mine.

I'm glad I decided to accept Dumbledore's generous offer - if I can influence the life decisions of just one young soul, I'll know my life's achievements will be remembered. Plus, I won the Witch Weekly Most Charming Smile award five times! That's not likely to be forgotten quickly, is it?