Next the golden Quartet walked to their next class, transfigurations which Y/N was happy about, for obvious reasons. Professor McGonagall's classes were always hard work, well, for Harry and Ron.

They were tasked with turning a beetle into a button, but all Harry managed to do was give his beetle a lot of exercise as it scuttled over the desktop avoiding his wand.

Y/N and Hermione were doing great, as usual, and managed to turn their beetles into coat buttons which was rather fun for the two, same couldn't be said for Ron though.

Ron was having far worse problems. He had patched up his wand with some borrowed Spellotape, but it seemed to be damaged beyond repair. It kept crackling and sparking at odd moments, and every time Ron tried to transfigure his beetle it engulfed him in thick gray smoke that smelled of rotten eggs. Unable to see what he was doing, Ron accidentally squashed his beetle with his elbow and had to ask for a new one. Professor McGonagall wasn't pleased.

After the class finished, the bell rang and everyone filed out of the classroom except for Harry and Ron, who was whacking his wand furiously on the desk.

"Stupid—useless—thing—"

"Write home for another one," Harry suggested as the wand let off a volley of bangs like a firecracker.

"Oh, yeah, and get another Howler back," said Ron, stuffing the now hissing wand into his bag. "It's your own fault your wand got snapped—"

They went down to lunch, where Ron's mood was not improved by Hermione and Y/N's showing the two the handful of perfect coat buttons they had produced in Transfiguration.

They sat eating their lunch and Y/N decided to ask Hermione something. A couple weeks before Y/N had received a letter from his grandparents from Spain once again it turned out his grandpa's condition had worsened a lot more. So being the nice the person that he was, he asked his dad if they could visit them... and to bring along another for the ride.

"Hey Hermione?" He gestured to her in Spanish.

She turned her head to face him and replied. "Yes?"

"I'll b- be going to see my grandparents in Spain in the summer and I- I was wondering if you wanted to go with me, you know on holiday?" He very nervously asked her, unsure as to what her response would be.

Meanwhile Harry and Ron were watching them, confused as to what they were talking about it, it actually annoyed Ron that they were practically hiding what they were saying from them.

Hermione expression turned into one of happiness and joy. "Yes! I would love to."

Y/N took a breath of relief and decided to switch up. "Thank you." he told her as he took a book from his bag and started reading it, almost as if nothing had happened.

"No problem." Hermione replied and did the same.

"What were you talking about?" Ron asked, curiously and annoyance plagued his voice.

"None of you business." Hermione said in a song like tone, not even bothering to take her eyes off the book.

"What she said." Y/N replied, as he continued reading his book.

"What've we got this afternoon?" said Harry, hastily changing the subject.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione at once.

"Why," demanded Y/N, seizing her schedule playfully with a grin, "Have you outlined all Lockhart's lessons in little hearts?" Hermione snatched the schedule back, blushing furiously.

They finished lunch and went outside into the overcast courtyard. Hermione sat down on a stone step and buried her nose in Voyages with Vampires again while Y/N stood idly by, peering over her shoulder, reading it also.

Harry and Ron stood talking about Quidditch for several minutes before Harry became aware that he was being closely watched. Looking up, he saw the very small, mousy haired boy he'd seen trying on the Sorting Hat last night staring at Harry as though transfixed. He was clutching what looked like an ordinary Muggle camera, and the moment Harry looked at him, he went bright red.

Unknown to Y/N, there was in fact another boy there too, a first year who seems to be brandishing a very small guitar for his size.

They both came striding over and introduced themselves.

"All right, Harry? I'm—I'm Colin Creevey," he said breathlessly, taking a tentative step forward. "I'm in Gryffindor, too. D'you think—would it be all right if—can I have a picture?" he said, raising the camera hopefully.

While Harry was dealing with his "problem"
Y/N dealing with one of his own.

"Hey, Y- Y/N, I'm Ronnie Langford" he said awkwardly, stepping towards him. He was another Gryffindor first year as well. "I was wondering if you could help me out, show me the reins." he chuckled to himself.

"Well I don't know-" he said unsure but was cut off by Colin Creevey butting in. "Are you
Y/N L/N? You are aren't you? Can I get picture?"

Harry joined his side and also wore the mask of uncomforted.

"A picture?" Harry and Y/N both repeated blankly.

"So I can prove I've met you," said Colin Creevey eagerly, edging further forward. "I know all about you. Everyone's told me. About how you survived when You-Know-Who tried to kill you and how he disappeared and everything and how you've still got a lightning scar on your forehead" (his eyes raked Harry's hairline) "and a boy in my dormitory said if I develop the film in the right potion, the pictures'll move." He looked towards Y/N and started his ramble again. "And you Y/N I know all about you, Chaser for Gryffindor, newly famous musician. That you're close friends with Harry and even had a close encounter with You-know-Who, I'd really love to get a picture of you. Oh could you play the guitar while I do?" He asked breathless as the boy next to him, Ronnie nodded fairly quickly at the idea and started jumping up and down in excitement.

Colin drew a great shuddering breath of excitement and said, "It's amazing here, isn't it? I never knew all the odd stuff I could do was magic till I got the letter from Hogwarts. My dad's a milkman, he couldn't believe it either. So I'm taking loads of pictures to send home to him. And it'd be really good if I had one of you two"—he looked imploringly at Harry—"maybe your friend could take it and I could stand next to you? And then, could you sign it?"

To say that Harry and Y/N were speechless would be an understatement.

"Signed photos? You're giving out signed photos, are you?"

Loud and scathing, Draco Malfoy's voice echoed around the courtyard. He had stopped right behind Colin and Ronnie flanked, as he always was at Hogwarts, by his large and thuggish cronies, Crabbe and Goyle.

"Everyone line up!" Malfoy roared to the crowd. "Harry Potter and Y/N L/N's are giving out signed photos!"

"I don't see you giving out any photos Malfoy, turns out you're not that famous after all." Y/N hissed as boy stared daggers at him.

"No, We're not," said Harry angrily, his fists clenching.

"Yeah Shut up, Malfoy." Y/N hissed at pure blood bully.

"You're just jealous," piped up Colin, whose entire body was about as thick as Crabbe's neck.

"Yeah you got no talent, Slytherin, go back to the dungeons where you belong." Ronnie boldly pipped up to which Y/N was surprised.

"I like this kid already." Y/N whispered into Harry's ear.

"Jealous?" said Malfoy, who didn't need to shout anymore: half the courtyard was listening in. "Of what? I don't want a foul scar right across my head or some rubbish muggle music talent, thanks. I don't think getting your head cut open or playing music makes you that special."

Crabbe and Goyle were sniggering stupidly.

"Eat slugs, Malfoy," said Ron angrily. Crabbe stopped laughing and started rubbing his knuckles in a menacing way.

"Be careful, Weasley," sneered Malfoy. "You don't want to start any trouble or your Mommy'll have to come and take you away from school." He put on a shrill, piercing voice. "If you put another toe out of line—"

A knot of Slytherin fifth years nearby laughed loudly at this.

"Watch it Malfoy!" Y/N warned. "Unless you want me to do what I promised you on the train." Y/N held an evil smirk as he advanced towards Malfoy who had stopped and started trembling but soon recovered.

"What did he promise on the train?" Ron whispered into Hermione's ear and she replied. "You don't wanna know"

"Weasley would like a signed photo from you both," smirked Malfoy, his usually self returning. "It'd be worth more than his family's whole house—"

Ron whipped out his Spellotaped wand, but Hermione shut Voyages with Vampires with a snap and whispered, "Look out!"

"What's all this, what's all this?" Gilderoy Lockhart was striding toward them, his turquoise robes swirling behind him. "Who's giving out signed photos?"

"Oh no." Y/N merely facepalmed as his much hatred rival came upon them.

Harry started to speak but he was cut short as Lockhart flung an arm around his and Y/N's shoulders and thundered jovially, "Shouldn't have asked! We meet again, Harry, Y/N!" The last name was spat out in a hate, he didn't like Y/N, the feeling was mutual, but Lockhart felt threatened by him, him reaching such a success at time so short, it baffled him.

Pinned to Lockhart's side and burning with humiliation, anger and other things, Y/N saw Malfoy slide smirking back into the crowd.

"Come on then, Mr. Creevey," said Lockhart, beaming at Colin as Ronnie stood by him, still in his giddy faze. "A double portrait, can't do better than that, and we'll sign it for you."

Colin fumbled for his camera and took the picture as the bell rang behind them, signaling the start of afternoon classes.

"Off you go, move along there," Lockhart called to the crowd, and he set off back to the castle with Y/N and Harry in tow. who was wishing he knew a good Vanishing Spell, still clasped to his side.

"A word to the wise, Y/N, Harry," said Lockhart paternally as they entered the building through a side door. "I covered up for you two back there with young Creevey and... Ronnie—if he was photographing me, too, your schoolmates won't think you're setting yourself up so much..."

Lockhart swept them down a corridor lined with staring students and up a staircase.

"Let me just say that handing out signed pictures at this stage of your career isn't sensible—looks a tad bigheaded, Y/N, to be frank. There may well come a time when, like me, you'll need to keep a stack handy wherever you go, but"—he gave a little chortle—"I don't think you're quite there yet."

"I don't know, I think the crowd outside Flourish and Blotts proved otherwise." Y/N smirked at the older man to which he smiled at the boy, but it wasn't one of assurance.

They had reached Lockhart's classroom and he let Y/N and Harry go at last. Y/N yanked his robes straight and headed for a seat at the very back of the class.

The rest of the class came clattering in, and Hermione to Y/N's left while Harry day with Ron.

"You'd better hope Creevey doesn't meet Ginny, or they'll be starting a Harry Potter fan club."

"Shut up," snapped Harry. The last thing he needed was for Lockhart to hear the phrase "Harry Potter fan club."

"Looks like you've got a number one fan." Hermione chuckled at Y/N's at grumpy state.

"I wish I didn't." Y/N complained. "The last thing I need is some first year blabbing to everyone in castle about it, what they gonna do? Start up a musician club?" Y/N said.

"Yeah maybe-"

"It was a rhetorical question!" Y/N exclaimed to her as Lockhart came in.

When the whole class was seated, Lockhart cleared his throat loudly and silence fell. He reached forward, picked up Neville Longbottom's copy of Travels with Trolls, and held it up to show his own, winking portrait on the front.

"Me," he said, pointing at it and winking as well. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five time winner of Witch Weekly's MostCharming Smile Award—but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"

He waited for them to laugh; a few people smiled weakly. While Y/N just scoffed at the sight. 'Can he get anymore pathetic?' he thought as the man rambled on more.

"I see you've all bought a complete set of my books—well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about—just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in—"

Y/N immediately raised his hand into the air and Lockhart looked up at him, "Yes?"

"I don't have a copy of the books" He deadpanned.

That's right, he got rid of them again. This time he had given them to Hagrid to use them as a fuel source. Y/N had also resisted the urge to remark about book burning... something to do with Nazi's.

"Well where are they?" Lockhart asked, with a deep sigh.

"I chucked them in the bin, didn't fancy reading such nonsense." Y/N told him bluntly, not the complete truth but he did get rid of them... the second time. It caused a few snickers and a gasp from Hermione.

"Ah well you're in luck." Lockhart beamed, completely ignoring his reason as to why didn't have any.

"I have extra copies for you." he handed him the seven books on his desk and walked back to the front.

"Wonderful." Y/N grumbled once again.

When he had handed out the test papers he returned to the front of the class and said, "You have thirty minutes—start—now!" Y/N looked down at his paper and read:

1. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?

2. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?

3. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?

'You've gotta be shitting me.' Y/N thought with a frown as he turned page after page to more ridiculous questions.

On and on it went, over three sides of paper,

"Can today get any worse." He mumbled as he flicked a page over.

54. When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?

He decided to answer them all with witty remarks.

1. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color? : I don't know, ask anybody in the world, he's probably blabbed it to them all.

2. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition? : To be talented, he's severely lacking in that department

3. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date? : The fact that he managed to fool pretty much the entire wizard and witch community about his books with lies of greatness and false adventures in which he had no part in.

54. When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal gift be? : 20th October, and his ideal gift would be a working brain, it seems everyone's declined his request for such a gift.

Half an hour later, Lockhart collected the papers and rifled through them in front of the class.

"Tut, tut—hardly any of you remembered that my favorite color is lilac. I say so in Year with the Yeti. And a few of you need to read Wanderings with Werewolves more carefully—I clearly state in Chapter twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non magic peoples—though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky!"

He gave them another roguish wink. Ron was now staring at Lockhart with an expression of disbelief on his face; Y/N on the other hand was having one of the worse but oddly comical day of his life, his expression bore one of seriously pissed off bull. He was waiting for him to read his answers; Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, who were sitting in front, were shaking with silent laughter. Hermione, on the other hand, was listening to Lockhart with rapt attention, she flustering at his sight, almost blushing which made Y/N pretty angry, he didn't know why he was feeling this way. Was it pity? Jealously? He had no idea but he'd be damned if he let Lockhart make a fool out of her.

"And..." Lockhart suddenly stopped when he got to Y/N's answers. "T-tut tut, Y/N. You seem to have gotten them all incorrect." Which brought out a couple gasps from the surrounding students, he was regarded as a top level and admirably smart student, to hear that he failed was a surprise to them.

"No I think I got them all right actually, no ones decided to gift you anything intellectual so that must be why your brain lacks so many brain cells. I know I'm losing quite a lot of mine at the moment." He snarled at his teacher while others wore shocked expressions.

"Uhm, well- well I'm sorry Mr L/N, but test marks are deemed incorrect and I have no choice but to disqualify you for it." Lockhart spoke timidly.

"Thank god." Y/N muttered as he slumped into his chair, as Hermione gave him a confused look.

"...but Miss Hermione Granger knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair care potions—good girl! In fact—" he flipped her paper over "—full marks! Where is Miss Hermione Granger?"

Y/N felt sick at the whole thing, the way he smoothed her name, the looks she was giving the teacher, the blush spreading to her cheeks. It made Y/N stomach turn, violently almost. He was jealous, it wasn't hard to notice but why now? 'I'm not jealous' he denied. But it was true... he was indeed jealous... of a teacher.

'Okay I'm jealous.'

Hermione raised a trembling hand.

"Excellent!" beamed Lockhart. "Quite excellent! Take ten points for Gryffindor! And so—to business—"

He bent down behind his desk and lifted a large, covered cage onto it.

"Now—be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm."

"Jesus Christ this is boring, can we do something that's actually true and not another one of your lies." Y/N muttered, he didn't believe for a second that anything he would say or show would be educational or truthful in his eyes, unfortunately Lockhart heard it.

"Do you want it to be interesting or do you want it to be true?" Lockhart said rather impatiently.

"So far it's neither." He spoke back, causing a few chuckles and laughs in the classroom.

"Yes, yes laugh it up but you won't be saying that when you see what I have wrapped in this cage." Lockhart told the class.

In spite of himself, Y/N  leaned around his pile of books for a better look at the cage. Lockhart placed a hand on the cover. Dean and Seamus had stopped laughing now. Neville was cowering in his front row seat.

"I must ask you not to scream," said Lockhart in a low voice. "It might provoke them." As the whole class held its breath, Lockhart whipped off the cover.

"Yes," he said dramatically. "Freshly caught Cornish pixies."

The dramatic reveal caused Y/N to bang his forehead lazily on the desk in front, groaning at such an event.

Seamus Finnigan couldn't control himself. He let out a snort of laughter that even Lockhart couldn't mistake for a scream of terror.

"Yes?" He smiled at Seamus.

"Well, they're not—they're not very—dangerous, are they?" Seamus choked.

"Don't be so sure!" said Lockhart, waggling a finger annoyingly at Seamus. "Devilish tricky little blighters they can be!"

The pixies were electric blue and about eight inches high, with pointed faces and voices so shrill it was like listening to a lot of budgies arguing. The moment the cover had been removed, they had started jabbering and rocketing around, rattling the bars and making bizarre faces at the people nearest them.

"Right, then," Lockhart said loudly. "Let's see what you make of them!" And he opened the cage.

It was pandemonium. The pixies shot in every direction like rockets. Two of them seized Neville by the ears and lifted him into the air. Several shot straight through the window, showering the back row with broken glass. The rest proceeded to wreck the classroom more effectively than a rampaging rhino. They grabbed ink bottles and sprayed the class with them, shredded books and papers, tore pictures from the walls, up ended the waste basket, grabbed bags and books and threw them out of the smashed window; within minutes, half the class was sheltering under desks and Neville was swinging from the iron chandelier in the ceiling.

"Come on now—round them up, round them up, they're only pixies," Lockhart shouted.

He rolled up his sleeves, brandished his wand, and bellowed, "Peskipiksi Pesternomi!"

And just as Y/N expected, it had no effect. one of the pixies seized his wand and threw it out of the window, too. Lockhart gulped and dived under his own desk, narrowly avoiding being squashed by Neville, who fell a second later as the chandelier gave way.

The bell rang and there was a mad rush toward the exit. In the relative calm that followed, Lockhart straightened up, caught sight of Harry, Y/N, Ron, and Hermione, who were almost at the door, and said, "Well, I'll ask you four to just nip the rest of them back into their cage." He swept past them and shut the door quickly behind him.

"Can you believe him?" roared Ron as one of the remaining pixies bit him painfully on the ear.

"No I can't." Y/N replied to the other boy as he himself ducked as an incoming pixie almost hit him.

"You know what screw this." Y/N took out his guitar from his bag and started swinging it at the pixies coming his way, hitting them across the face, knocking them out cold, the guitar was almost indestructible.

"Nice thinking Y/N." Harry praised as he ducked.

"We're gonna need more than a freaking guitar to get rid of them." Y/N shouted back as a bunch of the pixies charged into his back, knocking him over with such strength, causing him to hit his face on Lockhart's desk.

"Y/N!" Hermione rushed over to him to check him over, his nose was bleeding slightly but otherwise he was doing great.

"I'm fine, but the same can't be said for the rest of us." he said as Hermione helped him by the shoulder and let go.

"He just wants to give us some hands-on experience," said Hermione, immobilizing two pixies at once with a clever Freezing Charm and stuffing them back into their cage.

"Well you can't get anymore hands on than this." Y/N said as he now took out his wand and froze a few pixies with the freezing charm, who were trying to corner Ron.

"Hands on?" said Harry, who was trying to grab a pixie dancing out of reach with its tongue out. "Hermione, he didn't have a clue what he was doing—"

"Rubbish," said Hermione. "You've read his books—look at all those amazing things he's done—"

"He says he's done," Y/N muttered as they packed up the rest of pixies into the cage. "He's gonna get someone killed one of these days"
Y/N told the three with an exhausted sigh as he held onto his nose which was bleeding.

"If he hasn't already." Ron replied causing Hermione to disagree and argue with them all the way to the infirmary, Y/N got his nose checked out luckily it wasn't broken.

He hoped things would get better but he truly had no idea how wrong he was.