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Spell Damage by marauderslover15
Chapter 1 : Gilderoy Lockhart
 
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 12:01 P.M.

The flushing sound of the tap water filled the small dingy bathroom. I cupped my hands underneath the tap waterfall and brought the water to my face. It stung my face with iciness, sending a jolting shock through my body. The cold water was always able to help. It always seemed to awaken me from the drowsy trance of an eight hour shift. My wet fingers rubbed my eyes, hurting from the constant need of staying open. I lifted my gaze to the mirror and met my own big green hazel eyes. A piece of hair fell in a wave in front of my eye and I tucked it behind my ear. I rubbed my template while bending over the sink. “Hmmm…”

“Hazel!”

I heaved a heavy sigh. Tired was definitely not the word to describe my state. Exhausted, almost dead-like, was what I was feeling. Almost like a…zombie. I don’t remember what it exactly was. My Muggle aunt raved about it a few weeks back and something about a movie with them in it. What did I honestly really care though? Everything I did was done like an out of body experience, just going through the motions. I stretched quickly and headed out the room, facing another five hour shift.

“Yes?” I asked bitterly to my intern with hands on my hips with my usual demanding look. I know, most of the times, I’m not a very pleasant person. Some might say all the time. I don’t think I’m that bad though.

“Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley have just been admitted.”

I rolled my eyes in utter annoyance. Those boys, you would think since they saved our world as we know it that they’ll be better Aurors. Not to mention the fact, they’ve been Aurors for the last two years. Nope, not the case at all. They’re in here every week.

I snatched the clip board and the files of the two from the intern and quickly walked to Room 114 where the two were bent over, grinning sheepishly.

“What is it now boys?” I questioned distastefully.

Merlin, I can’t stand their faces anymore. They’re in here every week and all over the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly as the hottest men alive. You would think after two years, people will get over it! Looking at them now, they are nowhere near attractive. Harry always looks like a mess with that untidy hair and that Ron’s hair is so bright, I swear it stings my eyes.

“Well,” started Ron, “I’m pretty sure I got a concussion from being hit by a stunning spell to the head and Harry here… Why don’t you show her, Harry?” And he gave this obnoxious laugh.

 In the name of Merlin, who could ever fall in love with him? Hermione Granger is called the brightest witch of our age, but she must possess some sort of stupidity to be with this twit.

Harry opened his mouth and stuck out what was supposed to be a tongue. Instead it was a horn which caused the stupid red-head git to laugh unnecessarily loud. In between his laughter, he gasped for air and tried to speak. Stupid git. “We—can’t—change—it—BACK!” he roared with laughter.

How old was he? I can’t. I can’t even. Why haven’t I quit my job? Can I do it now? No, I need a year notice for my resignation. Merlin’s curse… A year? A whole bloody year.

“I can you sorted out quickly, Mr. Potter. As for you Mr. Weasley,” under my breath, I muttered, “I don’t think it could cause any more damage to you—”

“Excuse me? For me what?” grinned Ron.

“You’ll just need rest. You should go home and rest.”

“Can I rest here?”

I twitched. Yes, I actually twitched. I felt my eye do this thing. I don’t even know how to explain it, but I twitched.

“No, you may not,” I said, trying to keep my tone level. “We have others that might need a bed to rest. I’m pretty sure your bed at home will do just fine.” With that, I turned to a cabinet, pulling out a potion. I poured it in a bowl and handed it to Harry. “Dip your tongue in that Mr. Potter for less than an hour. And after the time is up, you can leave. Please, do not hesitant to leave without letting me know. I’ll be busy.” I forced a smile and know my pleasant demeanor was probably a total failure. But honestly, I really don’t care. You try working an eight hour shift then another five at a hospital full of morons.

I left briskly into the pure white corridor and had the most unfortunate luck bumping into our worst patient or at least in my opinion. Pretty sure only my opinion. Everyone else adores him and fawns over him. Ask me? Hate this man to pieces.

It seemed he hadn’t aged at all in seven years since he’s been admitted to the hospital. He still had the gorgeous wavy blonde hair which he spent at least four hours a day styling and retouching. His teeth were still blindly beautiful white. His skin was so fair like the type of fair in fairy tales.

“Lockhart,” I grinned forcibly.

He patted him on my head and I winced. “Hazey, my darling. You need to put more effort into your smile. Effort. Why do you think my smile is so beautiful? I put effort. And I suppose it’s just natural, born with good looks. Have the ladies all over me. Why, my lady!” He spun and landed on one knee, taking the hand of an invisible woman. “How fair are thou or you can be tan? Whichever you prefer. Oh, in between! You prefer in between. Very well then. How in between are thou…” I droned him out.

Delusional. Man is delusional which is why he is here, I guess. On the fourth floor of St. Mungo’s, the spell damage corridor where I so happen to be stuck in for the next five hours. Or if you want to get technically, I might be stuck here forever. ‘Till the day I die, I’ll probably be working this job.

“Mr. Lockhart, you should not be wandering the corridors alone, you must know this.”

He twirled and landed on one knee again, but this time, holding my hand. “Beautiful, beautiful, Hazey.”

Hazel,” I said through gritted teeth. Like what kind of nickname is that? Hazey? I mean really. Sounds like a weather forecast.

“I shall save you, darling.”

“No, no. I don’t need—”

At that moment, the maniac twit picked me up and out of surprise and not to mention my luck, I dropped my wand. It fell to the floor with a couple of bounces (my wand is springy) and a clatter. He broke into a jog and I bounced on his shoulder without getting panicked. I didn’t flail my arms or legs like mad. I didn’t even scream at him to put me down. Last time, he said I was so smoking hot that I was on fire and decided to carry me off and drop me into a tub of water. I just begin to wonder who lets him out. I probably need to sit down and have a serious chat with my intern, Bay… Not really sure what’s her last name though. And right now I really don’t care as it’s probably some cruel trick she played on me by letting him out. 

I landed abruptly on the floor and he slammed the door in my face. I can hear the door lock as I cursed under my breath. I felt around in the pitch dark, the only light was seeping through the bottom door crack, almost teasing me. I touched a firm handle of texture wood and immediately felt something hit my head. Merlin’s curse… It was a broom. I shuffled to my feet, hitting pails with my feet and the clanking of the metal echoed in the broom cupboard. With a heavy sigh, I knocked on the door.

“Lockhart…dear,” I called.

“Mi lady must stay safe! Stay back, you treacherous thing! BACK!”

I thumped my head against the door over and over. He’s at it again, dueling. He had this delusion he was always battling a vampire or a werewolf or some other creature he described in his books. Trust me, Lockhart, your days are over. They have been over for years now.

“Merlin, help me please,” I whined frustratedly.

He continued at it, yelling curses and screaming. I could clearly hear him puffing and huffing, out of breath. Time ticked by as I was ready to pull my hair out. How long was I going to be stuck in here? Forever? Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. I wouldn’t need to face the world of the hospital. And trust me; it’s a whole another world. You haven’t dealt with crazies until you been to Janus Thickey Ward. We have less than a handful of them (by them I mean crazies), but they are much more than handful, meaning they are a lot to take on. Time continued to tick by and I think I was on the verge of using the Cruciatus Cruse on myself. I think that would have been more delightful than dealing with this right now. Oh, but that’s right! My wand was lying in the middle of the corridor somewhere. Now, I think I’m on the verge of tears. Then I hear—

“Hi, Lockhart!” said a cheery voice behind the door. “Remember us? We were in your er—class. You were a professor.”

Oh, no. It was them.

“A professor you say? Yes, yes. I believe someone told me this a few years back.”

“That was us, you git,” mumbled Ron under his breath.

“Was I any good? Did I teach my students my superb dueling skills? I can show you now if you like.”

I heard some shuffling and knew it was at again, pretending he was dueling. As he usually did, he used his finger as the wand. The red-head git confirmed that.

“Watch it. You might poke someone’s eye out.”

I heard Harry stifle laughter, but some of the chuckling slipped through. He coughed then asked, “What happened to your nurse, Miriam er—”

“Stout,” finished Lockhart happily. “She’s retired. Hazel Bayer is the new nurse.” I heard his voice drop low and pressed my ear against the door. “She’s much better. Pretty one, almost as attractive as me. I’m keeping her safe in here from the evils of the world.”

The door was open immediately afterwards and I came crashing to the floor. I literally laid there for a few moments, still and refusing to get up. If I got up, I would have to face this. Right now, I just wanted to enjoy the pleasure of lying on the dirty white hospital titled floor.

“Er—” one of the Golden Boys said.

I lifted myself to my feet, brushing off any dirt of my green scrubs.

“So you’re Lockhart’s girlfriend?” grinned Ron at which Lockhart became as red as Ron’s hair.

I popped my eyes out to keep myself from rolling them in annoyance and the both jerked back, slightly alarmed.

“You—er—okay there?” asked Harry.

“I—am—fine—thank—you.” I’m twitching again.

“Well, er—alright then, we’ll leave you… Thanks,” Ron smiled awkwardly.

I watched them turn and walk down the corridor as my body set ablaze with anger. Now would be the appropriate time to throw me in a tub full of water, Lockhart.

“Are you really my girlfriend?” asked Lockhart timidly, looking down at his feet, fidgeting.

Maybe I was better off staying in the cupboard for the rest of my shift. Is it too late to go back? I turned to go back in, but Lockhart grabbed my arm softly. I tensed up to keep myself from throwing him in there instead. I turned stiffly, cocking my eyebrow.

“Be mine?”

I clicked my tongue then sighed heavily. “How about we get you where you’re supposed to be?”

He nodded like a child. I hooked my arm with his and slowly walked down the corridor with him. Every few glances I took up, he was grinning from ear to ear and a blush tingling rosy on his cheeks. We turned into his room and what happened next— I can’t do it anymore!

He smacked his lips against mine, moaning unnecessarily loud. I pushed him off of me and stormed out, slamming and locking the door behind me. “BAD LOCKHART!” I roared at the door. “BAD BOY!” I heard some faint whimpering and Merlin, do I hope he’s hurting with shame.

Down the corridor, I heard noisy barking.

Please, no. Not again. I looked at my watch.

1:03 P.M.

I got a long way to go.  

 


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