|Or, How Lockhart Learned to Love the Tentacle
Author: The Psychotic House-Elf PM
Oneshot, written for the Collaboration Challenge. One day in early September, Gilderoy Lockhart unwittingly bears witness to a moment of true, beautiful, sparkly, somewhat squelchy true love. Squiddledore. Written in collaboration with TuesdayNovember.Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance/Humor - Giant Squid & Albus D. - Words: 2,706 - Reviews: 7 - Favs: 2 - Published: 04-26-12 - Status: Complete - id: 8062543
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
This stunningly amazing work of literature was co-written with TuesdayNovember for the Collaboration Challenge at xoxLewrahxox's forum.
Prompt: Ridiculous humour, Lockhart (at any age) coming upon a private moment of ... Squiddledore!
Also of note is that TuesdayNovember is amazing and you should all check out her fics when you're done reading this.
Gilderoy Lockhart and the Tentaculiform Hectocotylate Coitus
(Or, How Lockhart Learned to Love the Tentacle)
Once upon a time, there was a man... a superman... a god... a universe... a cup of tea... a lozenge... a bag of flobberworms... This bag of flobberworms went by the name of Gilderoy Lockhart. Lockhart had the most brilliant smile in the history of brilliant smiles on blond ponces – and this was a big deal because most people in the Wizarding World had rotten, ugly teeth that resembled hunks of dog crap hanging from their swollen gingivitis-infected gums. But, sadly, he didn't have anything else, really, aside from a magic wand that could do a lot of things, including erase memories. But oh, was he a genius when it came to erasing memories.
Not that a non-genius couldn't have done the exact same thing with a large rock to the back of the head.
This handsome wizard, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award was, in fact, a very devious, deceptive, cunning, and altogether devilish(ly handsome) man. For you see, Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award was not, in fact, quite as talented as many of his fans, stalkers, and swooning admirers assumed him to be. No indeed, the sad truth of the matter was that he had not saved thousands of innocents from untimely deaths at the hands of werewolves, vampires, pixies, gnats, etc., but had in all actuality stolen those myriad accomplishments from more talented but very much less handsome wizards.
In fact, Gilderoy Lockhart had not saved so much as a single person in his entire life, except for that one time when he accidentally stepped on the toes of a Death Eater who was in the process of attempting to commit murder in Diagon Alley many years before. It happened while he was coming out of a shop after spending his last Knut on a new tube of toothpaste, and it was only moments later that someone called him a hero, and it was only about three hundred and sixty-five days after this that Lockhart had the brilliant idea to find people who had done heroic things, hit them with an Obliviate, and pretend to have done those things himself. It was just six and a half years after that, in turn, that he had the even more brilliant idea to write books about it so people would take him seriously. No one in modern Magical Britain took anyone or anything seriously if there wasn't a book about him/her/it, after all.
And that was how Gilderoy Lockhart became famous. Which actually has quite a bit to do with the events below, because if it hadn't been for all this, Lockhart wouldn't have been teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry during the 1992-1993 school year, and furthermore he also wouldn't have been in desperate need of some great heroic deed with which to boost his credentials due to said credentials being systematically destroyed by the nosy little bastards he had to teach.
It was a very bright morning when Gilderoy Lockhart came up with his plan of excessive genius – not, of course, that any of his plans were ever anything short of excessively brilliant. This particular plan, however, involved himself, a wand, and the venerated Professor Dumbledore, whom he would follow around for the day, week, month – however long it took, though it would undoubtedly not be too long, for he was Gilderoy Lockhart, and bound to succeed quickly – to take Deeds of Excessive Greatness from. This he plotted as he strode, Adonis-like, through the bright halls of Hogwarts, while the sun glancing off his golden hair blinded innocent students who stumbled into walls until they regained their vision.
He would do all this, he decided, as soon as he had graced the Great Hall with his beaming presence for breakfast, which he would eat handsomely, for all to see.
Proof of Lockhart's amazing brilliance could be seen in his ability to dodge all eighty-something of the hexes thrown at him by the students he'd injured in his class over the course of the month he'd been teaching (it was still September). He did, of course, dodge them on purpose, and his sudden face-first meeting with the floor was not the result of Adrian Pucey's Tripping Jinx hitting him before everyone else fired their spells, but was in fact a combined evasion tactic and inspection of the floor.
The floor – which, of course, had to be up to the Ministry standards set by Senior Undesecretoady to the Minister of Magic Dolores Jane Umbridge. And Lockhart was very much aware of these standards. Oh, yes.
"Good morning, Severus," he said, flashing an award-winning, cornea-scarringly bright smile at the grim, rather depressing-looking Potions master as he sat down as far away from said potions master as his seat would allow without actually sitting on Professor Flitwick.
"Shut up," replied Snape immediately. He went back to staring intently at his plate, which for some reason had two green fried eggs on it.
"Right you are," Lockhart said with a very fake, rather nervous laugh. Snape had tried to hit him with a spell called Secum-Something last time they talked for too long. Perhaps, he thought, he ought to give up trying to make the man see sense; it was clear he wasn't on the right wavelength to appreciate the greatness of Gilderoy Lockhart.
Instead, Lockhart turned his attention to the ancient, bearded, bespectacled man sitting at the center of the Head Table: Albus PWB Dumbledore.
Albus PWB Dumbledore, Order of Merlin, First Class, was twinkling grandfatherly at the student populace over his plate of sausages shaped like ... Gilderoy Lockhart keened his perfect eyes at the dish; yes, the sausages were shaped like penises. They were particularly large sausages as well, which led him to believe that they had been created from the mould he had recently made of his own sausage. Though how Dumbledore had come into possession of the mould for his new line of Gildos was unclear to him.
In any case, as soon as breakfast was over, Gilderoy slipped out of the Great Hall and into the normal hall, which is to say, the corridor, through which he followed Professor Dumbledore at a reasonably safe distance, keeping his beautiful eyes intent on the old wizard's back – perhaps too intent, for he certainly didn't notice a large number of things happening around him as he, Apollonian, swished about, flapping his robes so that they went 'swish swish' very grandly indeed.
Shortly after passing by the painting of Cici the Sex Fiend (the origin of whose name we shall not go into here because it is highly inappropriate to talk about magical porn stars who became teachers, even when they contributed greatly to furthering the education of wizardkind), Lockhart chose to perform some impressive acrobatics. This was completely and totally not in any way shape or form related to how Peeves the Poltergeist had, earlier that morning, dumped a bucket of Severus Snape's accumulated hair grease all over the floor, causing numerous injuries throughout the day since it was resistant to Vanishing spells. Some nearby witches clapped at Lockhart's acrobatics display and offered themselves to him, and he politely declined because they were twelve years old and would have landed him in Azkaban next to, or possibly directly beneath, Sirius Black for a few years.
Dumbledore, interestingly, did not fall victim to this prank (neither did Lockhart!) due to the fact that he had a phoenix for a familiar and thus could just teleport himself in a burst of flame to a different location. Whilst wondering why Dumbledore bothered walking places at all, the concentration of sexy that was Gilderoy Lockhart wondered if he could Obliviate the phoenix and make it think he was its master, too.
Unfortunately, since Dumbledore was disappearing and reappearing in different places with his phoenix fire, Gilderoy Lockhart lost track of him very quickly. Fortunately, however, he was a very brilliant wizard and managed to locate him after signing a few autographs, smiling for a few pictures, and mentally narrating a new scene for his upcoming novel, whose title was as yet undecided but would definitely be catchy and alliterative.
His excessive brilliance (and in turn good fortune) was in part due to his equal-to-or-greater-than vanity. For you see, as Gilderoy Lockhart, distracted by his gleamingly handsome reflection, gazed into a window, he saw to his surprise none other than Professor Dumbledore skipping merrily down to the Black Lake. And then he remembered why he was in the hall in the first place, and quickly – but still very handsomely – rushed out to follow him.
Lockhart was not, by nature, a very cautious man, but as he swished flamboyantly out after Dumbledore, he began to realize that his flapping and strutting like a human peacock might attract – this was a very painful, strange revelation to him – negative attention, so instead he changed pace, creeping stealthily, which to him just meant walking like a normal person. He only stopped to sign twelve more autographs/turn down an interview from an insane preteen tabloid journalist/masculinely instruct some seventh years to deal with the huge spider that soon turned out to belong to a third year Gryffindor called Lee Jordan/pose for some photos that were never taken, for the creepy blond boy with the massive Muggle camera, Colin Creevey, ignored Lockhart entirely, which was practically unheard of – how could anyone ignore the great Gilderoy Lockhart in full Award-Winning-Smile mode? – and walked right past him. This worried Lockhart greatly. Was his hair beginning to thin due to the lack of prestige? Was the humiliation inflicted on him by those bastard children dulling his smile? He doubled his pace.
The lake was placid when he arrived – but not for long. He cast his charming eyes across it and was about to turn back, assuming that Dumbledore had taken a different route altogether, when he saw a great splash at the far end of the lake. Yes! Yes, this was exactly what he had been hoping for! Dumbledore would undoubtedly be engaging in some sort of vicious combat with the Giant Squid who inhabited the lake. With a bright but dastardly grin, he shed his robes to reveal his athletic body, clad only in neon turquoise swimming trunks, and dove into the lake with nary a splash, because he didn't actually dive in, he toed the water gingerly, shuddered at the cold, and slowly, cringingly, eased himself in.
Swimming silently and sexily to the other end of the lake, he opened his eyes, and was repulsed to find he was swimming in rather brackish water. He cried, "Eugh!" before remembering he was, yes, underwater, and ended up with a mouthful of seaweed and a tadpole.
When he got close enough, he keened his eyes towards the fight between Dumbledore and the Giant Squid – my, they were really going at it! The squid had somehow managed to remove all of the professor's clothes, and was attempting to force him onto submission by wrapping a number of his tentacles around his flabby midsection and groin area.
It was then that Lockhart realized (and this memory would haunt his dreams 'till the end of his days, even when he was in the Janus Thickley Ward – it was burned that deep into his brain) that this was not, in fact, mortal combat. He realized this because he heard Dumbledore cry out "Give it to me, Squiddy!" in a tone of voice quite similar to the one he himself often used when imploring prostitutes and middle-aged housewives to peg him in his extremely well-proportioned rear. If that hadn't been enough to make him realize it wasn't an epic battle of the ages, though, watching what the Giant Squid did in response to this certainly would have. Within moments, Lockhart was painfully aware of what was actually going on between Albus Dumbledore and the Giant Squid of Hogwarts.
Sex was what was going on. Squidsex. Hot, steamy, cephalopod-on-old-man (and some time later – due to how Lockhart's admittedly beautiful brain was broken and he was unable to concentrate on anything but the horrific scene before him – old-man-on-cephalopod) sex.
Finally, Gilderoy Lockhart screamed.
He screamed like a little girl, surfaced for air, gasped, rubbed his eyes, and then screamed some more. The sound seemed to startle the copulating couple out of their tentacular tantric sexing – well, to an extent – as they surfaced, one of the squid's tentacles was still wriggling pleasantly within the recesses of Dumbledore's rectum.
In the confusion that followed, none noticed a third head pop up until it was too late.
Lockhart, in his mostly disgusted but partly aroused state, did the first thing that came to mind when faced with ... well with anything, really. He shouted "Oblivate!" at the squid, while Dumbledore cried out, "Squiddelus!" and tried to push the cephalopod out of the line of fire – but the squid was too big, and he received the force of it directly on his shiny, squiddy forehead. Fortunately for Squiddelus, and also in some respects fortunately for Gilderoy Lockhart, the spell rebounded because his head was simply so shiny that it reflected magic. And it rebounded directly into the camera lens of one Colin Creevy, the third head.
Colin Creevy was a lot of things, and among the things that he was, was a pervert. Yes, Colin Creevy was a gigantic pervert who reveled in bestiality and voyeurism, which was why he was at the lake in the first place, discreetly taking pictures of Dumbledore and Squiddelus as they had tentacle sex. Whether or not he was engaging in any activities besides photography shall be left to your own imagination, as he is eleven years old and I am not as much of a pervert as he – are you?
So there he was, blithely photographing images of an adult nature, when Gilderoy Lockhart started screaming and startled him into surfacing just in time for his professor's Obliviate to ricochet off Squiddelus's head and into the lens of his camera, magnifying it with the power of physics, refracting, reflecting, etc., getting shot into his eye, and then doing more scientific things which none of the wizards were capable of explaining because they never bothered to understand the basic principles of science and mathematics, and hitting Gilderoy Lockhart squarely in his very handsome face.
Due to the fact that he had no one to tell him what he had been doing for the last hour, which was the standard erasure for an Obliviate if you didn't set a specific length of time, Lockhart sort of mouthed like a fish for a while and floated around in the lake until Squiddelus pulled him and Colin out of the water. Colin was placed by the lakeside, somewhat waterlogged and very confused but not really any more fucked-up than he already was, while Lockhart, due to being irresistibly sexy, spent some quality time with Dumbledore and the Giant Squid before joining his students.
(Whether 'quality time' means perverse tentacle rectum rape or a lengthy discussion about the nature of socks shall be left to the imagination.)
Squiddledore is the most perfect-est pairing in the history of fanfiction, and indeed, literature itself.