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August 22, 2007
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Samantha pushed the round, green vegetables across her plate.  She wasn’t all that hungry anymore. Meanwhile, at the other end of the table, Lockhart had pulled out a small mirror and placed it in front of himself.  Snape gave him one disapproving look and muttered something unintelligible.  The mirror cracked, and Lockhart frowned.

“My mirror broke.”  He had a knack for pointing out the obvious, it seemed. “No matter! Fixum reflectum!”  He pointed his wand at the cracked glass. McGonagall, who sat near enough to hear the nonsensical attempt at a spell, rolled her eyes. Of course nothing happened, and Lockhart looked very confused.

“Perhaps you didn’t correctly execute the movement.”  Snape suggested, a haughty sneer curling his lips.

“Thank you, Prof. Snape, but I can handle this myself,” he said.

“Of course you can.”

After several other foolish and failed attempts to correct the fracture in his mirror, Lockhart scooped the broken glass into his bag.  He produced another, and set it down in front of him happily.  Upon perfecting its angle, he caught an unfamiliar reflection in its face.

“Who’s that?”  The mirror was sharply turned left, and a woman with curly brown hair piled on top of her head was displayed.

“Professor Fiddlesnype.” Snape said shortly.  

“What does she teach?”

”Arithmancy, if I remember correctly.”  He did remember.  He recalled when Dumbledore first told the staff of the two new teachers coming.  He hadn’t stopped thinking about it since then.

“I’ll teach her a thing or two,” he looked at Snape with a devilish grin, “if you know what I’m saying.”

“I’m afraid I don’t.” He lowered his voice to an inaudible whisper. “And I don’t think I care to.”

“When does she have her planning period?”  Lockhart’s eyes were fixated on the mirror, watching as the female professor picked at a piece of bread.

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll take the initiative and ask.”  Lockhart focused his mirror on himself, and after checking his teeth and coifing his hair, he left his seat.  Snape watched as the golden haired professor made his way across the back of the table, and approached Samantha. “Professor Fiddlesnype, I presume.”

“Can I help you?”  Samantha was pulled from her thoughts for the second time today.

“Yes, you can.”  Lockhart beamed his most charming smile, and leaned over her shoulder. “You could give me your name.”

“You already know it.”  She said. “Fiddlesnype.”
“I mean your first name.”

“Oh. Samantha.”  She had a feeling she would regret that.

“That’s a beautiful name.” He praised quietly, “A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

“Thank you.” Despite the cheesiness of the line, she blushed.

“When is your planning period?” He let his hands slip forward on the back of her chair, and stretched out his fingers to brush one of her stray curls.  Samantha felt the touch, and leaned forward slightly.

“Fifth.” She said unwittingly.  Immediately she regretted giving him both her name and her planning period.

“Mine too.”  He leaned back again. “Maybe I’ll see you.”

“Maybe.”  

Lockhart strolled back to his seat, a winning grin plastered on his face.  He sat down beside Snape again.  The potion’s master found the DADA professor’s smile to be very irksome. He stabbed at the potato on his plate.  

“Alright, this is going to be easy.” Lockhart looked at himself in the mirror, admiring his perfect teeth. “There was never any doubt, of course.”

Snape stabbed the potato again, this time bending the end of his fork.
yaaay snape! :P
:iconneecolette:
neecolette Featured By Owner Aug 22, 2007
oooo Snape better put the smackdown on lockhart ;) haha stab that potato snape you manly man you! :lol: haha
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