The teachers sitting opposite Lockhart all wore faces like thunder.
From where he sat, Sean could clearly see a muscle twitching in Professor McGonagall's cheek. Professor Snape looked as though soone had just forced a large dose of Skele-Gro down his throat.
Only Dumbledore appeared utterly unbothered, smiling genially as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.
"How's the plan coming along?" Justin whispered, keeping his voice low enough that only Sean and Hermione could hear.
"A few more days," Hermione replied. She looked noticeably peaky; she had barely rested in the past week.
"Hermione, I an it — you really ought to take a break now and then," Justin said, glancing between her and Sean. He had a feeling he'd said the sa thing to more than one friend lately.
Hermione didn't answer. She couldn't quite stifle a yawn.
At that mont, Lockhart clapped his hands on the staff table, drawing every eye in the Great Hall.
"Happy Valentine's Day!" he bood cheerfully. "And may I thank the thirty-six people who have so far sent cards! Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all — and it doesn't end here!"
Lockhart bead toward the entrance doors. Marching through them ca a dozen surly-looking dwarves. But these were no ordinary dwarves — Lockhart had decked them out with golden wings and given each one a harp to carry.
"My friendly, card-carrying cupids!" Lockhart announced with delight. "They will be roving around the school today, delivering your Valentine's cards! And the fun doesn't stop there! I'm sure my colleagues will want to enter into the spirit of the occasion! Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion?"
A wave of noisy laughter and muttering swept the Hall.
The Slytherins smirked at Lockhart with lofty, pitying expressions. Snape's face, anwhile, suggested that anyone foolish enough to ask him for Love Potion instructions would be force-fed sothing far more unpleasant.
If Ron and Harry had seen Snape looking like that, they would have bolted in the opposite direction as fast as their legs could carry them.
Lockhart, however, carried on talking grandly, occasionally glancing toward Dumbledore for approval.
Sean had little interest in Lockhart's ridiculous antics, but he *was* rather curious about the man's technique with mory Charms. That was why he, Justin, and Hermione had decided to work together.
Under the influence of Veritaserum, Sean wouldn't have to wonder which parts of the Forgetfulness expert's stories were exaggerated and which were true.
"Speaking of which," Hermione said wearily, a note of caution in her voice, "last month, before the initial batch of the potion was ready, I needed so Silent Songbird feathers. The only place to get them is Professor Snape's private stores…"
Sean's gaze flicked toward her.
"And just before the last Potions lesson before Christmas, I happened to glance into the front cabinet in the dungeon and spotted one of those feathers… They're terribly rare magical ingredients, you know. Sean, you're down in the dungeons quite often — did you put it there for ?"
"No," Sean said quietly.
But he rembered Snape's request just before the Christmas holidays: he had asked Sean to use magic to organise all the bird-feather materials into the front cabinet.
It seed… Professor Snape knew rather more about Lockhart than he let on.
"Later, when we tried to put it back…" Justin picked up the thread.
"We found the feather had been replaced," Hermione finished, frowning thoughtfully.
"Don't worry about it," Sean murmured. He was beginning to understand.
The professors really did seem to loathe Lockhart with a passion.
While the three of them were talking, Lockhart's voice swept across the Hall again like a gust of wind:
"If any of you are interested, Professor Flitwick here is more knowledgeable about Charm work than any wizard I've ever t — the crafty fellow!"
Professor Flitwick promptly buried his face in his hands. Every Ravenclaw student winced in sympathy.
And so this most "special" Valentine's Day began.
All day long, the dwarves kept barging into classrooms, delivering Valentine's cards and driving the teachers to the brink of exasperation.
That afternoon, as the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws climbed the stairs together for Charms, one of the dwarves suddenly ca barreling after Sean.
"Oi! Mr Sean Green! Hold up there!"
A dwarf whose face had shifted from stormy to sunny shouted, elbowing people aside as he pushed toward Sean.
Sean gave his wand the tiniest flick. He vanished on the spot.
The dwarf blinked, then spun toward the nearest laughing spectator — Harry.
Harry, still unaware of what was coming, was busy grinning and trying to spot the now-invisible Sean among the crowd.
"Oi, you! Yeah, you — Harry Potter!"
The dwarf's face had clouded over again. It was already right beside Harry.
"What's this about—" Harry began, startled.
Receiving a Valentine's card in front of a whole group of first-years was mortifying enough.
Only then did Harry think to run.
But he had barely taken two steps before the dwarf kicked shins left and right, forcing his way through the crowd and catching up.
"I've got a musical ssage to deliver to Harry Potter in person!" the dwarf declared, twanging his harp in a threatening manner.
"Not here," Harry hissed, trying to slip away again.
"Stand still!" the dwarf grumbled, seizing Harry's schoolbag and yanking him back.
"Let go!" Harry shouted, tugging hard at the bag.
There was a loud ripping sound. The bag split clean in two.
Books, wand, parchnt, and quills spilled everywhere. The ink bottle shattered on top of the pile.
Harry scrambled frantically to gather everything before the dwarf could start singing, but all he managed to do was create a complete traffic jam in the corridor.
"Harry doesn't look too happy," Justin remarked to the empty air.
"Shall we help?" the air replied.
"Has he forgotten he's a wizard? Picking things up by hand will take forever," Hermione said, clapping a hand to her forehead.
Harry was in full panic now, desperate to escape, but the dwarf grabbed him around both knees and brought him crashing to the floor.
"Right then," the dwarf said, plonking himself down on Harry's ankles. "Here is your singing Valentine:
His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,
His hair is as dark as a blackboard.
I wish he was mine, he's really divine,
the hero who conquered the Dark Lord!"
The dwarf's voice was closer to a dying banshee than anything romantic.
Hermione pressed her hand over her twitching lips. Beside her, Justin was laughing so hard he could barely breathe.
(End of Chapter)
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