A month later on the train ride Johnny and Pansy caught up with Daphne, Blaise and Theo who excitedly told Pansy and Johnny about their trips abroad. At one point Johnny swore he saw a car fly past the window, but shook it off as tiredness. However, the next morning at breakfast his thoughts appeared to become true when it was confirmed that Harry, Lyons and Weasley flew a car into the Whomping Willow.

The five Slytherin's were giggling to themselves as Weasley was pointing at the red envelope. It looked quite ordinary to most people, but Weasley and Neville were both looking at it as though they expected it to explode.

"What's the matter?" said Harry.

"She's - she's sent me a Howler," said Weasley faintly.

"You'd better open it, Ron," said Neville in a timid whisper. "It'll be worse if you don't, my gran sent me one once, and I ignored it and" - he gulped -"it was horrible."

Harry looked from their petrified faces to the red envelope.

"What's a Howler?" he said.

But Weasley's whole attention was fixed on the letter, which had begun to smoke at the corners.

"Open it, Weasel!" Pansy urged from the Slytherin table.

"It'll all be over in a few minutes--" Lyons went to say, but Weasley had already stretched out a shaking hand, eased the envelope from Errol's beak, and slit it open. Neville stuffed his fingers in his ears. A split second later, they knew why. Johnny thought for a moment it had exploded; a roar of sound filled the huge hall, shaking dust from the ceiling.

"-STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT WAS GONE--"

Mrs. Weasleys yells, a hundred times louder than usual, made the plates and spoons rattle on the table, and echoed deafeningly off the stone walls. People throughout the hall were swiveling around to see who had received the Howler, and Weasley sank so low in his chair that only his crimson forehead could be seen.

"-LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU AND HARRY COULD BOTH HAVE DIED--"

"-ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED - YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME."

A ringing silence fell. The red envelope, which had dropped from Weasley's hand, burst into flames and curled into ashes. Lyons, Harry and Weasley sat stunned, as though a tidal wave had just passed over them. The Slytherin's laughed and, gradually, a babble of talk broke out again.

"Brilliant," Daphne rolled her eyes when Snape handed them their timetable, "just brilliant, Herbology first with everyone."

"Well, best be off then," Johnny sighed, pushing his plate away and standing up. He offered his hand to help Pansy up off the bench, who smiled at him in thanks, a faint blush on her face.

"When's the wedding?" Blaise asked sarcastically as Theo made kissing sounds behind them.

Shut up," both mumbled, their faces burning bright red. Johnny, Pansy, Daphne, Theo and Blaise left the castle together, crossed the vegetable patch, and made for the greenhouses, where the magical plants were kept.

As they neared the greenhouses they saw the rest of the class standing outside, waiting for Professor Sprout. The five Slytherin's had only just joined them when she came striding into view across the lawn, accompanied by Gilderoy Lockhart. Professor Sprout's arms were full of bandages, and Johnny spotted the Whomping Willow in the distance, several of its branches now in slings.

Professor Sprout was a squat little witch who wore a patched hat over her flyaway hair; there was usually a large amount of earth on her clothes and her fingernails. Gilderoy Lockhart, however, was immaculate in sweeping robes of turquoise, his golden hair shining under a perfectly positioned turquoise hat with gold trimming.

"Oh, hello there!" he called, beaming around at the assembled students. "Just been showing Professor Sprout the right way to doctor a Whomping Willow! But I don't want you running away with the idea that I'm better at Herbology than she is! I just happen to have met several of these exotic plants on my travels..."

"Can we throw him at the Whomping Willow?" Johnny whispered in Blaise's ear, his look of disgust evidently showing on his face as he looked at Pansy, Daphne, Hermione and a handful of other girls looking at him with heart eyes.

"Is someone jealous?" Blaise teased.

"Don't be silly," Johnny shook his head, facing forward again. Blaise smirked, shaking his head knowingly.

"Greenhouse three today, chaps!" said Professor Sprout, who was looking distinctly disgruntled, not at all her usual cheerful self.

There was a murmur of interest. They had only ever worked in greenhouse one before - greenhouse three housed far more interesting and dangerous plants. Professor Sprout took a large key from her belt and unlocked the door. Johnny caught a whiff of damp earth and fertiliser mingling with the heavy perfume of some giant, umbrella-sized flowers dangling from the ceiling. He was about to follow Pansy, Daphne and his friends inside when Lockhart's hand shot out.

"Johnny! Harry! I've been wanting a word - you don't mind if they're a couple of minutes late, do you, Professor Sprout?"

Judging by Professor Sprout's scowl, she did mind, but Lockhart said, "That's the ticket," and closed the greenhouse door in her face.

"Potter, Grindelwald," said Lockhart, his large white teeth gleaming in the sunlight as he shook his head. "Potter, Grindelwald, Potter."

Completely nonplussed, Harry said nothing, but Johnny couldn't keep quiet. "Get on with it, for heaven's sake."

"When I heard - well, of course, it was all my fault. Could have kicked myself," both Johnny and Harry had no idea what he was talking about. They looked at each other as if the Professor had grown two heads before facing Lockhart again. They was about to say so when Lockhart went on, "Don't know when I've been more shocked. Flying a car to Hogwarts! Well, of course, I knew at once why you'd done it. Stood out a mile. Potter, Grindelwald."

It was remarkable how he could show every one of those brilliant teeth even when he wasn't talking.

"I wasn't apart-" Johnny went to say but was cut off by Lockhart, causing Johnny to grit his teeth.

"Gave you a taste for publicity, didn't I?" said Lockhart. "Gave you the bug. You got onto the front page of the paper with me and you couldn't wait to do it again."

"You could always kill him," said a voice in Johnny's head, and the Slytherin did well to mask his shock.

"Oh, no, Professor, see--"

"Potter, Grindelwald," said Lockhart, reaching out and grasping their shoulders. "I understand-"

"Take your hand off my shoulder... now," said Johnny, his eyes turning an unearthly red for a second.

Lockhart chuckled and continued on. "Natural to want a bit more once you've had that first taste - and I blame myself for giving you that, because it was bound to go to your head - but see here, young lads, you can't start flying cars to try and get yourself noticed. Just calm down, all right? Plenty of time for all that when you're older. Yes, yes, I know what you're thinking! 'It's all right for him, he's an internationally famous wizard already!' But when I was twelve, I was just as much of a nobody as you are now. In fact, I'd say I was even more of a nobody! I mean, a few people have heard of you, haven't they? All that business with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!" He glanced at the lightning scar on Harry's forehead. "I know, I know - it's not quite as good as winning Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award five times in a row, as I have - but it's a start , lads, it's a start ."

He gave Harry and Johnny a hearty wink and strode off. They both stood stunned for a few seconds, looking from the direction Lockhart went to each other, then, remembering they was supposed to be in the greenhouse, they opened the door and slid inside.

"I hate him," Johnny muttered, Harry humming in agreement.

Professor Sprout was standing behind a trestle bench in the center of the greenhouse. About twenty pairs of different-colored earmuffs were lying on the bench. When Johnny had taken his place between Daphne and Blaise, she said, "We'll be repotting Mandrakes today. Now, who can tell me the properties of the Mandrake?"

To nobody's surprise, Hermione's hand was in the air, but Daphne had raised her hand first.

"Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative," said Hermione, sounding as usual as though she had swallowed the textbook. "It is used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed to their original state."

"Bloody know-it-all, my hand was in the air first!" Daphne whispered angrily, clenching her fist around the table. Johnny nodded in agreement.

"Excellent. Ten points to Gryffindor," said Professor Sprout, causing Daphne to scoff louder. "The Mandrake forms an essential part of most antidotes. It is also, however, dangerous. Who can tell me why?"

Daphne's hand narrowly missed Johnny's nose as it shot up again.

"The cry of the Mandrake is fatal to anyone who hears it," she said promptly.

"Precisely. Take ten points for Slytherin," said Professor Sprout, causing Daphne to smirk in Grangers direction. "Now, the Mandrakes we have here are still very young."

She pointed to a row of deep trays as she spoke, and everyone shuffled forward for a better look. A hundred or so tufty little plants, purplish green in color, were growing there in rows.

"Everyone take a pair of earmuffs," said Professor Sprout.

There was a scramble as everyone tried to seize a pair that wasn't pink and fluffy.

"Green is more my colour," said Johnny, sporting the only pair of pink and fluffy earmuffs. The Slytherin's all gave a laugh when Professor Sprout turned her back and Johnny tapped his wand against the earmuffs, turning them green. "Much better."

"When I tell you to put them on, make sure your ears are completely covered," said Professor Sprout. "When it is safe to remove them, I will give you the thumbs-up. Right - earmuffs on ."

Johnny snapped the earmuffs over his ears. They shut out sound completely. Professor Sprout put a pair over her own ears, rolled up the sleeves of her robes, grasped one of the tufty plants firmly, and pulled hard.

Johnny let out a gasp of surprise that no one could hear. Instead of roots, a small, muddy, and extremely ugly baby popped out of the earth. The leaves were growing right out of his head. He had pale green, mottled skin, and was clearly bawling at the top of his lungs. Professor Sprout took a large plant pot from under the table and plunged the Mandrake into it, burying him in dark, damp compost until only the tufted leaves were visible. Professor Sprout dusted off her hands, gave them all the thumbs-up, and removed her own earmuffs.

"As our Mandrakes are only seedlings, their cries won't kill yet," she said calmly as though she'd just done nothing more exciting than water a begonia. "However, they will knock you out for several hours, and as I'm sure none of you want to miss your first day back, make sure your earmuffs are securely in place while you work. I will attract your attention when it is time to pack up.

"Four to a tray - there is a large supply of pots here - compost in the sacks over there - and be careful of the Venemous Tentacula, it's teething."

She gave a sharp slap to a spiky, dark red plant as she spoke, making it draw in the long feelers that had been inching sneakily over her shoulder.

Daphne, Blaise, and Johnny were joined at their tray by a curly-haired Hufflepuff boy Johnny knew by sight but had never spoken to.

"Justin Finch-Fletchley," he said brightly, shaking Johnny by the hand. "Know who you are, of course, the famous Johnny Grindelwald... And you're Daphne Greengras - always second best in everything" (Daphne scowled as she had her hand shaken too) "- and Blaise Zabini. Isn't your mother some loon?"

Blaise also didn't smile. However before he could say anything, Justin was tapped on the shoulder. He turned and saw Pansy stood there.

"Beat it, Eczema," Pansy tapped her Doc Marten clad feet against the stone floor.

"I was here first!" Justin argued. He let out a yelp when Pansy stood on his foot.

"I said fuck off, Eczema," Pansy scowled. The boy nodded in pain and scampered off to join Harry, Weasley and Granger. "Hello," Pansy smiled at her three laughing friends.

"He definitely fancied Johnny," said Daphne, and was pleasantly pleased when Pansy began scowling again. After that they didn't have much chance to talk. Their earmuffs were back on and they needed to concentrate on the Mandrakes. Professor Sprout had made it look extremely easy, but it wasn't. The Mandrakes didn't like coming out of the earth, but didn't seem to want to go back into it either. They squirmed, kicked, flailed their sharp little fists, and gnashed their teeth; Johnny spent ten whole minutes trying to squash a particularly fat one into a pot.

By the end of the class, Johnny, like everyone else, was sweaty, aching, and covered in earth. Everyone traipsed back to the castle for a quick wash and then the Slytherin's hurried off to Transfiguration.

Professor McGonagall's classes were always hard work, but today was especially difficult. Johnny, like Daphne, had managed to change their beetle to a button on the first try, and was grinning when McGonagall awarded them ten points each, all while Hermione remained struggling.

Harry and Lyons weren't much better. Everything they had learned last year seemed to have leaked out of their heads during the summer. All they managed to do was give his beetle a lot of exercise as it scuttled over the desktop avoiding his wand.

Weasley 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 Weasley tried to transfigure his beetle it engulfed him in thick gray smoke that smelled of rotten eggs. Unable to see what he was doing, Weasley accidentally squashed his beetle with his elbow and had to ask for a new one. Professor McGonagall wasn't pleased.

They went down to lunch, Johnny and Daphne sitting opposite Pansy, Theo and Blaise, the latter of which was still giggling about Justin having a crush on Johnny.

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

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Pansy and Daphne at once.

"Why,"demanded Johnny, seizing her schedule, "have you outlined all Lockhart's lessons in little hearts?"

Pansy snatched the schedule back, blushing furiously.

"Oh, Merlin! Daphne done it too!" Theo laughed.

"Piss off, Nott!" Daphne hissed.

They finished lunch and went outside into the overcast courtyard. Daphne sat down on a stone step and buried her nose in a book while Pansy sat next to her with Johnny's Walkman in hand. Johnny, Blaise and Theo stood talking about Quidditch for several minutes, Blaise intent on joining the Slytherin team before Johnny became aware that he was being closely watched. Looking up, he saw a very small, mousy-haired boy he'd seen trying on the Sorting Hat last night staring at Johnny and Harry as though transfixed. He was clutching what looked like an ordinary Muggle camera, and the moment Johnny looked at him, he went bright red.

"All right, Harry? Johnny? I'm - I'm Colin Creevey," he said breathlessly, taking a tentative step forward. It was only then Johnny realised Harry and his friends were standing a few feet away from him. "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.

"A picture?" Harry and Johnny 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." 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" - he looked imploringly at the both of them - "maybe your friends could take it and I could stand next to you? And then, could you sign it?"

"I don't know how to use a camera," Pansy lied, causing the three other Slytherin girls to stifle their giggles while Johnny glared mockingly at her.

"Signed photos? You're giving out signed photos , Potter?"

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

"Everyone line up!" Draco roared to the crowd. "Harry Potter's giving out signed photos!"

"No, I'm not," said Harry angrily, his fists clenching. "Shut up, Malfoy."

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

"Jealous?" said Draco, 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, thanks. I don't think getting your head cut open makes you that special, myself."

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

"Be careful, Weasley," sneered Draco. "You don't want to start any trouble or your Mummy'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, Pansy, Blaise, Theo and Daphne laughed loudly at this while Johnny couldn't help but laugh.

"Weasley would like a signed photo, Potter," smirked Draco. "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?"

Harry and Johnny started to speak but he was cut short as Lockhart flung an arm around their shoulders and thundered jovially, "Shouldn't have asked! We meet again, boys!"

Pinned to Lockhart's side and burning with humiliation, Johnny saw Draco slide smirking back into the crowd.

"I'll kill you," he mouthed at his Slytherin friends.

"Come on then, Mr. Creevey," said Lockhart, beaming at Colin. "A triple portrait, can't do better than that, and we'll all 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 Harry and Johnny, who was both wishing they knew a good Vanishing Spell, still clasped to his side.

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

Deaf to their stammers, 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, 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."

They had reached Lockhart's classroom and he let Harry and Johnny go at last. Johnny yanked his robes straight and headed for a seat at the very back of the class, where he busied himself with piling all seven of Lockhart's books in front of him, so that he could avoid looking at the real thing. The rest of the class came clattering in, and Pansy and Daphne sat down on either side of Johnny with Blaise and Theo on Pansy's right.

"We better hope Creevey doesn't meet Weasel's sister, or they'll be starting a Potter fan club," Johnny muttered, crossing his arms on the desk and burying his head in them.

"Shut up," snapped Harry, who was sat in front of them. The last thing he needed was for Lockhart to hear the phrase "Potter fan club"

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 Most Charming 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.

"I hate him," Johnny said for what must've been the one millionth time in the last month and half.

"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--"

When he had handed out the test papers he returned to the front of the class and said, "You have thirty minutes - start - now!"

Johnny looked down at his paper and read:

1. What is Gilderoy Lockhart s favorite colour?

2. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?

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

On and on it went, over three sides of paper, right down to:

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

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 Ogdeds Old Firewhisky!"

"Mr. Grindelwald, you didn't answer a single question?" Lockhart furrowed his eyebrows at him. "Why?"

"None of the questions were on Defence Against the Dark Arts," said Johnny, shrugging his shoulders carelessly. Pansy and Daphne were looking at him as if he had suddenly sprouted a third arm, while Blaise and Theo were silently dying of laughter. Even Harry, Lyons and Weasley managed a smirk. "Why would I answer questions on a false, bigheaded, bigot?"

Lockhart's face went crimson with embarrassment as he saw the majority of the class laugh. Johnny was now staring at Lockhart with an expression of disbelief on his face; Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, who were sitting in front, were shaking with silent laughter. Hermione and Daphne, on the other hand, was listening to Lockhart with rapt attention and gave a start when he mentioned their names.

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

Hermione and Daphne raised trembling hands.

"This is actually so sad," Johnny winced, watching the two of them.

"Excellent!" beamed Lockhart. "Quite excellent! Take ten points for Gryffindor and Slytherin! 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."

In spite of himself, Johnny 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."

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!"

"I killed one of them last month with a butter knife," said Johnny, causing an uncomfortable silence.

"Well, hello to you too, Wednesday Addams," said Lyons sarcastically.

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.

"Shit! Professor, Pansy's bleeding!" Johnny yelled over the chaos. One of the Pixies threw a ink bottle at the blacked haired girl, which shattered on impact. "Professor!"

"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!"

It had absolutely 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.

"I'm going to kill him!" Johnny yelled, but the bell rang and there was a mad rush toward the exit. "Can you believe him?! The bloody idiot!" He seethed, his eyes that unearthly red as he looked over Pansy. "I've got a medical book in my dorm, if you trust me?" Said Johnny, moving some of Pansy's hair away from her forehead.

"I trust you," Pansy whispered, biting down on her lower lip as she grabbed both of Johnny's hands. Her face was covered with ink and blood. They heard a small click and turned to see Blaise and Theo smirking at them and Daphne with a Polaroid camera.

"Cute!" Daphne gushed. "Going straight in the scrapbook!"