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booksmarts and broomsticks
act ii , take a breath
chapter eighteen , like the caribbean sea

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➖ DRIA LOCKABY➖
september 1992

AFTER THE SIXTH-YEARS had to endure another free period that, just like the hour that preceded their break, was full of furious scribbles and furrowed brows over half-finished essays — as well as the time being spent with Tess dozing on Dria's shoulder and the blonde swatting her head in response — the two Gryffindor girls walked arm in arm towards their Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson.

"I'm terrified."

"Well, I am very excited." Tess countered, shoving her blonde friend in the side as they approached their classroom.

"The man has cotton wool for a brain, Tess."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

Dria let out a loud scoff as they entered the classroom, bustling past a few of their other classmates and making their way towards a desk.

"How can it possibly be perceived as good?"

Tess rolled her eyes as she sank into her seat and spared a quick wave at a group of Hufflepuffs that she apparently knew — but Tess knew everyone.

"You, my friend, are far too pessimistic."

"I think you'll find it's realistic." Dria argued back, as she plonked into the seat beside her friend, letting out a huff as you did so.

Leaning back in her seat, the blonde rolled her eyes as Tess decided to ignore her comment and begin conversing with the group of Hufflepuffs.

Tearing her gaze from her fellow Gryffindor, the blonde began looking around her, scoping out who else had chosen to pursue Defence Against the Dark Arts to NEWT level.

"Is he even here?"

Two Slytherin students were sat behind her and Tess — one of which Dria recognised to be Phoebe Rowle, who was one of Tess' dates from the previous year and a Chaser on the Slytherin Quidditch team, and the other Cecelia Kennedy, a girl with silvery blonde hair who had an aptitude for Astronomy and almost always wore a permanent scowl. And it was the latter that had spoken up, and Dria had to grant that she had a point — their Professor was nowhere to be seen.

       "I wouldn't put it past the tosser to not show up to a lesson on time." Dria muttered, just loud enough for the two girls behind her to hear her and offer a light chuckles in response.

       Tess, on the other hand, elbowed the blonde in the side, having ceased speaking with the group of Hufflepuffs in order to reprimand her friend for speaking ill of their teacher.

        "Oh hush, Dria."

With a light groan at the pain in her side, Dria repeated the gesture and elbowed Tess, before sinking back into her seat.

"I, for one, believe that you should give him a chance." Tess told her friend, sitting up straight as she organised the pile of book upon her desk. "You shouldn't be judging a book by its cover."

"I do hope you're joking." Dria scoffed, pulling up her bag from where she'd dumped it on the floor, upon their arrival. "I'm lugging around all seven of his blasted books, because he didn't specify which one to bring, and I intend to judge him — just like his books — by his cover!"

With a loud thud she dropped her bag on her desk, still glaring daggers at Tess as she began unloading the large textbooks from her bag, while the dark-haired Gryffindor at her side simply folded her arms.

"You just don't like him, because your mum fancies him. I mean who knows? You might be calling him Dad one day."

Dria's jaw hardened at her friend's words and she let out a bitter scoff, setting her gaze firmly ahead of her.

"You're walking on thin ice, Tess." She muttered, her hand tightening dangerously around her quill. "Thin fucking ice."

       Before another response from Tess, — that would no doubt aggravate the blonde even more— the sound of a door opening and closing immediately caught the class' attention. At the sound, their gazes all landed upon their teacher who was stood at the top of the staircase at the front of the room, robed in shades of sandalwood and beige, with a beaming smile on his lips as he looked down at his students.

       "Let me introduce you to your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher ... me!" He chuckled, raising his hands up dramatically before beginning to descend the steps one by one.

       "Give me strength."

       "Shh!"

With another roll of her eyes, Dria begrudgingly turned her attention back to their Professor as he descended the staircase, listing off various titles as he went.

"Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-times winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award — but I don't talk about that." He said in faux-nonchalance as he reached the final step and stood in front of the class. "I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at him."

His face then contorted into the most disturbing forced smile as he laughed at his own joke, his eyes squinting as he made a noise that set Dria's teeth on edge, shaking his head in amusement.

"I'm going to vomit."

       As if on cue, Tess' elbow expertly found its way to jab into Dria's side as she disguised her contempt with the blonde at her side with a dreamy sigh as she gazed on the Professor, who had stopped at his desk, leaning against it ever so slightly.

       "I see you've all bought a complete set of my books. Well done." He nodded, his voice adopting faux professionalism as he collected a pile of sheets from his desk. "I thought we'd start today with a little quiz."

       A few murmurs of confusion and arched brows came in response to his proposal, as he edged forward and began distributing out the sheets of paper with an assuring smile.

       "Nothing to worry about." He dismissed the class' worry, however Dria didn't find it particularly assuring as she took a sheet of parchment with a forced courteous smile. "Just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in ..."

       Tess let out a dreamy sigh, as he moved around the desk to pass the dark-haired Gryffindor a sheet of paper, while the blonde at her side continued to grimace.

       "Thank you." She smiled, taking the paper from him, although he paid her little mind before moving on to distribute the rest of papers.

       Dria's jaw hardened again as Tess turned, her dreamy gaze following the man as he walked away. So, the blonde Gryffindor saw no other appropriate option of response other than rolling up her sleeve slightly and smacking the arm of the girl beside her, harshly.

Safe to say, the gesture was more than enough to cause Dria's fellow Gryffindor to whip back around and tear her gaze from the arse of their new professor with a grumble.

Meanwhile, with a smug smile, Dria turned her attention to the parchment in her hands, her eyes training over the words upon it etched in lilac ink. Needless to say, her smug smile faded in an instant and was replaced with a distasteful grimace.

"You've got to be kidding."

"What now?" Tess sighed, not bothering to look at the girl beside her as she scanned over her own piece of parchment.

"Have you seen these questions?" Dria scoffed, her eyes wide with incredulity. "They're all about him!"

Tess rolled her eyes with a small huff, as Dria spared a few glances around her and, much to her chagrin, she saw that she seemed to be the only one looking at this quiz as though it was the most ridiculous thing in the world.

It occurred to the girl that, perhaps, she did have an overly adverse reaction to Gilderoy Lockhart's general existence. And perhaps she was overreacting. But that didn't mean she had to be sorry about it.

Nonetheless, she continued to ramble on distaste, ignoring the fact that Tess' was trying to convince Cecelia Kennedy to swap seats with her.

"What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favourite colour?" Dria read out, in a harsh whisper, her lip curled in disgust. "What has that got to do with Defence Against the Dark Arts?"

"He's the teacher, Dria." Tess whined, reaching her hand up to her temples and beginning to massage them, resisting every urge to punch her friend in the face. "Just do the ruddy quiz."

"As mentioned in Travels with Trolls, what colour are Gilderoy Lockhart's eyes? And how were they described in the Witch Weekly review?"

"Aqua — like the Caribbean Sea." Tess muttered in response, as she began dipping her quill in her ink pot and scratching her name across the top of her sheet.

"You know that?"

"It's in the book." The Robbins girl shrugged, not sparing her blonde friend another glance, as she reached across the table and patted her hand calmly.

"Tess, the urge to smack you upside the head right now is terribly overwhelming."

The dark-haired girl's only further response was sticking up her middle finger in the direction of the blonde, who gave a dissatisfied huff and grabbed her own quill as Lockhart passed them once more and stood at the front of the class.

"You have thirty minutes. Start ... now!"

***

       "LIKE THE CARIBBEAN sea? Jesus Christ, give me strength."

       The sound of the final bell of the day ringing out across the grounds could not have been more welcome to the blonde Lockaby, who was muttering to herself as she hastily left the classroom.

        "Where are you going?" Tess' tired shout followed the blonde's retreating figure as she sped away down the the corridor.

        "To save my education!"

        The dark-haired Gryffindor merely spared a groan before turning on her heel and leaving in the opposite direction towards the Great Hall, while her blonde friend weaved her way through the bustling bodies of the younger years in the direction of Professor McGonagall's classroom.

With her hand grasping the bag on her shoulder tightly and her jaw clenched in irritation, the Lockaby girl turned the corner into the conjoining corridor. Her blue eyes widening as they landed on a tall figure in emerald green robes emerging from the classroom in question.

"Professor! Professor McGonagall!"

        Dria continued in a hurried jog down the corridors, much to the discontent of the younger years that were shoved out of the way in her haste.

       At the sound of her name being called by the Lockaby girl, the Professor turned around where she stood and, in doing so, revealed that she was already in conversation with another, as Dria came to a halt before her.

       "Miss Lockaby."

       Dria's clenched jaw immediately relaxed as she stopped before the woman and her eyes landed on the figure by her side, who was wearing a light smile upon his lips as he surveyed the Lockaby girl.

        "Oh, Oliver." Dria greeted, her eyebrows quirking in slight confusion before she pieced together the facts. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt."

       "No, no. You're more than welcome." McGonagall said hurriedly, before Oliver could muster any form of response, her eyes wide as she attempted to focus on Dria. "My discussion with Mr Wood is quite finished."

        "But Professor—"

        "Miss Lockaby." McGonagall cut off the boy and turned to the girl with an expression that told the blonde to start talking.

        As the woman's emerald green eyes bore into the girl's blue ones, Dria pressed her lips together in thought as she reminded herself of why she'd sought out the professor, her jaw clenching as she remembered.

        "I have concerns about Professor Lockhart."

        "Concerns?"

        "Yes." Dria nodded, letting out a large exhale. "To put it bluntly, I think relying on him to teach our NEWT class is as good as asking Hagrid's boarhound."

        "Miss Lockaby—"

       "No, I'm sorry, Professor." Dria shook her head, cutting off the woman, a derisive smile on her lips. "He's hopeless, I'd go as far to say a famous idiot."

       Before she could comprehend it, Dria found the words leaving her lips without fully acknowledging what she was saying, much to the surprise of Professor McGonagall and the amusement of Oliver.

       "And I am honestly concerned, because unlike half of the people in my class who are too preoccupied with staring at his eyes — which, thanks to his quiz, I now know are aqua like the Caribbean Sea! — I actually want to pass my NEWT exams!"

       Letting out a large breath, the blonde Gryffindor wasn't even aware she'd been holding, she allowed herself to meet the alarmed gazes of the two people opposite her.

       "Sorry Professor, I'm a little tense."

        "Yes, that seems quite apparent." Professor McGonagall replied, resting her hands in front of her as she adopted her professional demeanour once more. "Miss Lockaby, as a colleague of Professor Lockhart, I must remind you to watch your tone when you speak of him."

       "Yes, Professor." Dria replied with a tight-lipped smile as she felt her face redden ever so slightly in embarrassment.

        "But nonetheless, as a teacher, I couldn't agree with you more."

       It took Dria a moment to fully digest the professor's words, as she looked back up at her with wide eyes. Her gaze darted between the woman and the Gryffindor Keeper at her side, who had been spectating the conversation, and now mirrored the blonde's incredulous expression at the professor's response.

        "Oh." Dria mustered, pressing her lips together with a slight nod. "Sorry, I didn't really expect that reaction."

        "It is a fair reaction, Miss Lockaby."

        "Yes, I suppose."

       "But ultimately there is very little I can do about it, I'm afraid you'll have to withstand his idiocy — as you put it." McGonagall continued with a sympathetic smile as she addressed the blonde girl, before lowering her voice ever so slightly. "However, I'm happy to provide you with the NEWT specification for Defence Against the Dark Arts from the last few years, and you are more than welcome to do with that as you please."

        Dria could have sworn she had seen a slight glint in the professor's eyes as she mustered a smile in response.

        "Thank you, Professor."

        With a knowing nod, the Professor bid the two Gryffindors goodbye and began making her way down the corridor, leaving Dria and Oliver completely bemused as they watched her go.

       "Is Lockhart really that bad?"

       The Scottish lilt of the Gryffindor Keeper beside her brought Dria's gaze away from the professor, and back to him as he arched his brow in curiosity.

        "I wanted to claw my eyes out five minutes in." Dria replied, sincerely with a tired huff as she leaned against the wall nearest to her. "What were you talking to McGonagall about?"

"I was trying to convince her to allow the team more training sessions." The Keeper explained, as he readjusted his bag on his shoulder.

"And?"

"I think she said yes?" He responded, his eyes squinting a little as the blonde opposite him quirked a brow in response. "But only to get me to stop talking about it."

Dria couldn't help but chuckle at the thought which, when she thought about it, seemed very plausible based on how eager the professor had been to talk to her instead of the Quidditch captain.

"Well, that's good news for your training programme." She replied, suppressing a chuckle.

"Just have to hope the team will comply, now." Oliver tutted as he mirrored her stance, sparing an unsure glance in her direction.

"Of course, they will." Dria rolled her eyes, folding her arms across her, still leaning tiredly against the wall. "They basically worship you. You're their Captain, they'd follow in the mouth of Hell."

"Well, they do with every match." The Keeper chuckled in response, as Dria felt herself subconsciously tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "That's how you see it anyway, isn't it?"

"Shut up." Dria chuckled lightheartedly, shoving his shoulder as she kicked off the wall, with a small shrug. "It's not so bad."

"You think so?"

"Well, the more you train, the better you get. The better you get, the less injuries you'll receive." The blonde explained, as Oliver looked on her with an intrigued expression across his lips. "It's win-win."

The Quidditch Captain nodded along ever so slightly with what she was saying, with the ghost of a smile tracing over his lips.

"That's some truth in that." He agreed with the lightest of chuckles at the smug expression situated across her face, before a sincere smile broke across his face. "But ... thank you."

"No problem." Dria shrugged in response, as she took a step forward, inviting the boy to walk alongside her in the direction of the Great Hall. "You just need to believe in them. They want to win the Cup just as much as you do."

"Well—"

"Okay, maybe not." Dria cut him off, as she realised how wrong her sentiment was. "But they come in close second."

The corridors were all but clear now, as most of the students that once filled them had scurried away to lunch, leaving them pretty silent with the exception of the light laughter that accompanied to the two Gryffindors as they walked together.

"You on your way to lunch?" Oliver asked with an arched brow, questioning the blonde's destination.

"Yep, I'm starving." Dria chuckled in response, upon realising that her irritation had masked the hunger that now coursed within her from the little breakfast she'd had earlier that day.

"I heard it's toad in the hole."

Dria's eyes widened at his words and turned to see there was a smirk growing upon his lips, which she soon mirrored, before seizing his forearm and pulling him with her, as she broke into jog along the corridor.

"Then, Merlin knows what we're doing standing still here!"

𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖆 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖐𝖘!
tess and dria hating
on each other for an
hour straight is the
friendship goals i
aspire to achieve

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