DISCLAIMER: I do not, nor will I ever own Harry Potter. I am merely an admirer of the magical world that J. has created. The world that she has kindly let people, like myself, play around in.

"What, in the name of Merlin, are you doing?"

Septima Vector looked up to see Minerva McGonagall staring at her with dark, serious eyes. She looked surprised. Not that Septima was particularly surprised about said surprise; she must have looked a strange sight, leaning back against a corridor wall, arms spread out, glancing around the corner. Serval students had given her a confused look as they passed.

"Do I have to repeat myself?" Minerva asked, still looking bemused at the sight of the Arithmancy Professor spread eagled against the brickwork.

Septima straightened up and brushed off some of the dust she had collected on her floor length red gown. She was an average height, not tall but definitely not short. Her hair was raven black, with a slight wave and it fell down her back like a rippling waterfall. Her eyes were a clear, light brown colour. They were the kind of deep, searching eyes that people got lost in. They stood out against her pale face, complementing her naturally red lips. She had strong cheekbones and a high forehead that on most would look unflattering, but these features just added to Septima's beauty. And she was very beautiful! Even in the middle of her life (not that she ever let her age come up in conversation) she had retained most of her youthful beauty, give or take a few lines here and there.

"Is he still waiting?" Septima asked Minerva, in her cool, low voice.

"Is who still waiting?" snapped Minerva, obviously annoyed at her friends vague, almost nonexistent answers.

The latter witch looked around the corner of the corridor and sighed. Leaning causally against a pillar next to the staffroom was a tall, handsome wizard with wavy blonde hair, bright blue eyes and dazzlingly white teeth. He flashed smiles at the people that walked past, every so often checking his reflection in the window opposite. His name was Gilderoy Lockhart, he taught Defense Against the Dark Arts (badly), and he was the last person on the planet that Septima wanted to bump in to.

Minerva smirked at her obvious discomfort.

"Honestly, Minerva," Septima said, in an almost desperate voice, "it's not funny! He's been following me all day, trying to impress me with his silly Valentines."

"I know," said Minerva, "I had the pleasure of witnessing his first attempt at breakfast."

Septima groaned and fell back against the wall.

"You and the whole bloody school."

Gilderoy had decided that, after several attacks on students, the whole school needing cheering up. Not disclosing his plans to any other member of the faculty, he had single handedly decorated the Great Hall with the most lurid pink and red decorations and organized a dwarf delivery service, so that people could send and receive Valentines at any moment of the day.

Septima had obviously not known of this fact when she entered the Great Hall that morning, momentarily thinking she must have disapparated in her sleep and woken up in a frilly, pink, alternate universe Hogwarts. A look of disgust on her face, she made her way to her seat at the high table next to Rolanda Hooch, the Quidditch mistress and Poppy Pomfrey, the school matron. Both woman greeted her as she sat down.

"Do I even have to guess whose idea this was?" Septima sighed, as she began to put food on her plate.

Poppy smiled sarcastically, the new decor obviously not her cup of tea either. Rolanda, who was engrossed in the sports section of the Daily Prophet, just muttered something derogatory about the "Wimbourne Wasps".

Septima watched the students as she ate. Some seemed thrilled about the idea of Valentines Day, the older girls in particular. Others didn't seem so keen about having this romantic holiday thrust upon them. She couldn't really blame them. It was not an occasion that was emphasized at Hogwarts and Septima had the personal opinion that, if you wanted to make a declaration of love, you should do it with very little fuss and preferably in a private place where she didn't have to see.

"Yes!" she thought. "That's the way to do it. None of this cards and candy crap."

The inner working of her mind was interrupted by a shadow over her plate and a smooth "Hello!" from the person casting it. Gilderoy was leaning against the table, wearing horrid pink robes and a smile that would make most woman swoon. Septima, however, was not most woman. She acknowledged his appearance with a small nod.

"I notice," he continued, oblivious to the less than warm greeting, "that you weren't amongst the forty-six people who sent me Valentines."

"Must have slipped my mind." Septima grumbled.

Gilderoy flashed another smile.

"I thought as much!" he said, in an understanding voice. "Which is why I took the liberty of making one myself. All you have to do is sign it."

Septima looked at the lacy cardboard heart he had just pulled out of his bag. She pushed it back towards him.

"Maybe later." she muttered.

Beside her, Rolanda twitched.

"I, however," Gilderoy went on, "did not forget about you."

He rummaged in his bag and pull out a small, red rose. Rolanda was now shaking behind her paper. Pomona Sprout, the squat witch who taught herbology, was quietly choking on her breakfast. Aurora Sinistra, the pretty young thing in charge of astronomy, was busily looking through her bag, trying to hide her face. Down the end of the table Severus Snape, the formidable potions master, sniggered. Septima felt herself going red. Apparently the entire staff table was listening in.

"For you." Gilderoy said, handing her the rose.

He then kissed her on the hand, gave a quick wink and glided off, out of the Great Hall. Septima just sat there, rose in hand, looking mutinous.

He had barely left the room when Rolanda broke into loud peels of laughter. She was quickly followed by Aurora and Poppy. Minerva looked as though she was desperately trying not to join them. Students who had witnessed the scene were whispering and giggling loudly. Septima scowled. With a flick of her wand she set the rose on fire and then, for good measure, dunked it, still flaming, in to Rolanda's goblet, before stalking off to get to lessons. Even now, in the late afternoon, the incident was fresh in her mind and, given Minerva's reaction, the staff were still thinking about it to.

"You do know that eventually you will have to turn this corner," Minerva said, gesturing to the corridor where Gilderoy was still loitering. "You can't stay here forever."

Septima pulled a face that seemed to say, "watch me" before sighing.

"I know, I know." she whispered, sadly.

"Do you want me to go in with you?" Minerva asked, kindly. "For moral support?"

Septima nodded and took a deep breath. Bring herself up to her full height, she straightened her dress again and walked forward with strong, confident strides. She was hoping that, if she went fast enough, Gilderoy wouldn't have time to notice her.

"Septima!" Gilderoy smiled, oozing charm that made Septima want to throw up.

She smiled curtly, before trying to walk around him. He blocked her way and took both her hands in his. She looked around desperately at Minerva, as if trying to send out a help signal. Minerva just gave a small shrug that suggested "you're on your own."

Septima turned back to Gilderoy, who was now staring at her so intensely that it made her uncomfortable. In fact the whole bloody scene made her uncomfortable. She subtly tried to wriggle out of his grasp.

"I hope you got my pleasant, little surprises?" he asked.

Septima nodded, "I got them," though it sounded like she neither wanted them nor appreciated them.

Gilderoy, as always, took no notice of her less than civil manner.

"I'm glad you liked them," he said, although Septima's expression suggested the opposite, "I've always thought myself to be an excellent gift giver."

"You go on thinking that." Septima muttered under her breath.

He cocked his head sideways and gazed at her with a look of utter devotion, the kind usually seen on small puppies and the kind he usually wore when looking in the mirror. Septima prayed that he would never look at her like that again.

"I must be going, my lovely," Gilderoy beamed. "Things to do, you know. It's awfully busy being me."

He leant forward and kissed her on the cheek, before swishing off down the hallway. Septima followed his path, wanting nothing more than to slap his perfectly tanned face. Minerva let out a breath, that she had obviously been holding for a long time, and said:

"I think he likes you."

Septima gave a groan of frustration and stormed in to the staffroom.

The staffroom was relatively crowded. Severus, in his long, black robes, sat on the sofa, reading a book written in ancient runes. Pomona sat on a puffy, orange stool thing, knitting what appeared to be a scarf. Rolanda, still in her flying gear, sat in an armchair, flicking through a broom catalogue. Aurora, with her pretty red curls and bright blue eyes, had been standing by the door.

"Impressive!" she said, when the other two witches walked in.

"What's impressive?" asked Septima, as she collapsed in to a chair.

"We were just timing to see how long Lockhart would wait for you," remarked Snape, in an uncharacteristically conversational tone, "turns out he can go for a while."

"1 hour, 33 minutes, and 26 seconds, to be precise." added Pomona.

"What did he want?" Rolanda inquired.

"Oh, just to check if I had got his, and I quote, "pleasant, little, surprises,"" Septima said, rolling her eyes. "You know, he enchanted all the chalk in my classroom so that when I picked it up, it wrote "Be Mine" in a little heart. I know it was him because he signed his name afterwards."

She sniffed.

"It was most inconvenient. Not to mention embarrassing, in front of seventh year students."

"Sounds just as bad as those awful dwarf cupids he sent around the place." said Severus, with absolute venom in his voice.

"I know!" Minerva agreed, "I had to lock the classroom to stop them coming in and disrupting everything."

"I told them that the next one to come in would be fed to the Venomous Tentacula." said Pomona, firmly.

Septima gazed out the window.

"He sent one after me." she said, casually.

"Did he?" Rolanda said, in a sympathetic voice.

"Yes. Came up to me and announced, to the entire hallway, that he had a message for me from Professor Lockhart. Naturally I ran for it. They're not slow, dwarfs, and he would have caught me, if I hadn't hexed him and shoved him in a broom closet."

Septima sat bolt upright.

"Which reminds me, I really should check if he's still in there."

She checked the broom closet before dinner. The dwarf was still in there, but nothing seemed to be wrong with him, except that he was rather disgruntled. After much apologizing, Septima bid the dwarf goodbye and walked to the Great Hall with Rolanda and Aurora. When she walked in to the dining hall, Septima became aware that most of the students were watching her, which gave a rather uneasy feeling in her stomach. When she reached the front of the high table, she understood what all the looks were about. Someone (and she had a pretty shrewd idea who) had decorated her chair with flowers. Decorated was, perhaps, not a strong enough word. It looked as though a garden had exploded on her seat. There were roses of all different colors, lilies, tulips, daisies and many other varieties. Down the table, Gilderoy beamed with pleasure at his handy work. Septima stood stock still, her face frozen in a look of terror. Beside her she heard Rolanda whisper to Aurora:

"I think I know what's been petrifying students."

Septima stomped up to her chair and started ripping off petals, hurling them to the floor in a cascade of white, pink and red.

"If that man ever tries to come near me again," she raged, to a smiling Poppy, "you will see me with an interesting pair of eyeball shaped earrings, of the light blue variety!"

Most of the staff were in the staffroom that evening, with a few exceptions, the obvious one being Gilderoy Lockhart. He hadn't been seen since tea and Septima hoped it would stay that way.

"Maybe you should give him a chance?" said Pomona, when the conversation turned to Gilderoy's dinnertime display.

Though she despised him, she was disposed to be nice to people.

"Give him a chance!" scoffed Septima, quite disgusted with the idea. "You are a few owls short of a pack! He's arrogant, vain, smug, narrow minded and stupid! Not to mention the probable age gap between us."

"Narrow minded," Severus mused, "because that doesn't sound like you at all."

Septima picked up the nearest book (Bathilda Bagshot's A History of Magic) and whacked him over the head with it. He smiled grudgingly, but said nothing more.

"There's no denying he's arrogant, vain and all that," said Minerva, "but the age gap? I mean, what is he, about early forties? and your only f-"

"Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah!" Septima shouted, cutting off her colleague in mid sentence.

"You're twenty-three, right Septima?" said Aurora with a cheeky grin.

Rolanda laughed and Severus shook his head, but stopped when Septima raised A History of Magic threateningly.

"My age aside," she said, "I could never be with someone who I had to live in the shadow of. Gilderoy-"

She paused, trying to phrase it politely.

"Gilderoy is, for some unknown reason, quite famous and he likes it. I could never be with someone who passes me over for their career or their fame or themselves. Despite what he might say, I think I come in second to his own reflection."

Just as she finished speaking, a tap sounded from the glass doors that opened on to a balcony. Almost everyone in the room looked up to see enchanted pebbles flying from the ground below.

"Let's guess who's doing that?" said Severus lazily, as he got up and left the room.

Septima leaned back further in her chair and groaned.

"I'll get it!" said Aurora, brightly, before crying, "Oh my Godric Griffindor, he's got a guitar!"

Septima, Pomona, Rolanda and Minerva all rushed to the balcony, flinging open the doors and staring down at the grounds.

There Gilderoy Lockhart stood, guitar in hand, strumming away. He swayed gently as he played and was moving his mouth in a way that suggested he was singing. Septima didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so compromised by making a small coughing noise.

"I can't actually hear him." said Pomona.

"Neither can I!" added Rolanda.

"Shall we tell him, do you think?" Minerva said, with a hit of amusement in her voice.

Septima smiled, vindictively.

"You know, I don't think we shall. Just let him get it all out!"

The group of women giggled loudly.

"Ladies, please!" said a rather embarrassed Filius Flitwick, who was writing in the corner.

In was quite some time before Gilderoy decided he'd had enough. He put down the guitar and waved up at Septima, who raised a hand awkwardly.

"Encore." whispered Rolanda, who had barely stopped laughing since they'd come on to the balcony.

Gilderoy had disappeared for the time being and Septima was glad of it.

"Look," Aurora pointed, "he's sent a messenger."

Floating towards the crowd was a large tawny owl, with a ribbon around it's neck. Gripping tightly to its ankles was a terrified looking dwarf, dressed as a cupid. The dwarf was deposited on the ledge of balcony, then, swaying for a second, he began to relay his message.

" 'e wishes to speak wif a Professor Vector. Privately."

Rolanda let out an involuntary giggle, which Septima chose to ignore.

"Where abouts did he propose this meeting?" she asked, uncertainly.

"I fink 'e said 'ere would be fine, Miss." the dwarf replied.

Septima looked puzzled and turned towards the staffroom door. The dwarf shook his head and nodded towards the edge of the balcony. Minerva understood it before the others did. She walked to the railing and peered over, before exclaiming:

"Good god! He's got terrific upper body strength, I'll give him that."

The other women rushed to see what had brought on this remark.

Gilderoy was climbing up the side of the Hogwarts castle, hoisting himself up as if it was one giant climbing wall. Septima was only half heartedly wishing he wouldn't fall.

"Maybe we should go inside, give them some privacy." Pomona suggested, while Minerva smirked.

"Oh, but it was just getting really interesting!" complained Aurora.

"Don't worry," Rolanda said, shepherding the group indoors, "we'll watch through the window."

They left Septima standing alone on the balcony (she had been pushed back out when she tried to follow them). Her heart racing, she fixed her hair, straightened her dress and prepared to go through the ordeal with as much dignity as she could muster. This confrontation, she could tell, was going to end very, very badly.

Gilderoy joined her on the balcony a few seconds later. He was a little puffed, but his hair was perfect and his eyes were gleaming brighter than ever.

"Thank you, for meeting me here." he said, rather formally.

Septima mumbled something indistinguishable and backed closer to the door. Gilderoy took a breath and began to speak.

"Did you know that the heart beats roughly 115,200 times a day?"

Septima did not know this, but she stayed silent.

"Well," he continued, "ever since I met you my heart has been going about three times that fast, which is roughly 345,600 beats per day."

Septima, being a numbers woman, was relatively impressed with calculation, before remembering that she was in a situation of grave danger. Gilderoy pressed on with his speech.

"Which, in a year, adds up to 126,144,000 beats of the heart."

"Really Gilderoy," Septima stammered, feeling behind her for the door handle, hoping to God that Rolanda hadn't locked it, "I'm not sure this is the best time... I mean it's nearly dark... I have lessons to plan!"

Ignoring her stammers, Gilderoy took both her hands and pulled her close.

"What I'm trying to say is," he whispered, "that every time my heart beats, it beats for you, my darling Septima. And I am convinced you feel the same."

He stroked her cheek and she wanted to be sick.

"I have loved you ever since I first saw you!" he said, "You're the only woman I've met who comes close to my own standard of being. You're not perfect, but don't worry, I know not everyone can be as good as I am."

Septima stood petrified, not knowing exactly how to respond, but knowing she had to get away soon. As Gilderoy continued to speak, she began judging the distance from the balcony to the ground, wondering if she could survive the fall. If she didn't, well, anything was better than being enclosed in a small area with Lockhart.

"I love you, Septima," he smiled, passionately, "I don't care how many times I say it. And I can't live without you! Which is why,"

He got down on one knee.

"Septima Vector. Will you marry me?"

Septima blanched and started almost hyperventilating. What ever she had been expecting, it was not this.

"Married!" she gasped, "You and me? GOOD - LORD - NO!"

"But, I need you!" Gilderoy cried, "I want you, I have to have you! And you should want me too!"

"Not a chance in Hell!" she screamed, wrenching the door open, storming inside and slamming it in his smarmy face. She promptly locked it with her wand. Ignoring his cries of "but I'm a five time winner of Witch Weekly's most charming smile award!",she then drew the curtains so she didn't have to see his sickening puppy dog eyes. After doing so Septima turned to face the occupants of the staffroom.

Pomona was giggling like a school girl. Minerva had her hand over her mouth, her eyebrows almost disappearing in her hair. Rolanda was taking big, drawn out gulps of air, tears of laughter streaming down her face. Aurora was holding the wall for support, her hand clutching her stomach, letting out shrieks and shaking with mirth. Septima growled and marched to the door.

"I'm going to barricade myself in my room." she yelled, "If he asks, tell him I'm by the lake. With any luck, the giant squid will eat him!"