Harry Potter 02 - Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

shining under a perfectly positioned turquoise hat with gold trimming.
    ‘Oh, hello there!’ Lockhart 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 …’
    ‘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. Harry 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 Ron and Hermione inside when Lockhart’s hand shot out.
    ‘Harry! I’ve been wanting a word – you don’t mind if he’s 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.
    ‘Harry,’ said Lockhart, his large white teeth gleaming in the sunlight as he shook his head. ‘Harry, Harry, Harry.’
    Completely nonplussed, Harry said nothing.
    ‘When I heard – well, of course, it was all my fault. Could have kicked myself.’
    Harry had no idea what he was talking about. He 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. Harry, Harry, Harry. ’
    It was remarkable how he could show every one of those brilliant teeth even when he wasn’t talking.
    ‘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.’
    ‘Oh – no, Professor, see –’
    ‘Harry, Harry, Harry,’ said Lockhart, reaching out and grasping his shoulder. ‘I understand. 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 man, 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, Harry, it’s a start. ’
    He gave Harry a hearty wink and strode off. Harry stood stunned for a few seconds, then, remembering he was supposed to be in the greenhouse, he opened the door and slid inside.
    Professor Sprout was standing behind a trestle bench in the centre of the greenhouse. About twenty pairs of different-coloured earmuffs were lying on the bench. When Harry had taken his place between Ron and Hermione, she said, ‘We’ll be re-potting Mandrakes today. Now, who can tell me the properties of the Mandrake?’
    To nobody’s surprise, Hermione’s hand was first into the air.
    ‘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.’
    ‘Excellent. Ten points to Gryffindor,’ said Professor Sprout. ‘The Mandrake forms an essential part of most antidotes. It is also, however, dangerous. Who can tell me why?’
    Hermione’s hand narrowly missed Harry’s glasses as it shot up again.
    ‘The cry of the Mandrake is fatal to anyone who hears it,’ she said promptly.
    ‘Precisely. Take another ten points,’ said Professor Sprout. ‘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