(a mad creation by Prongs, of the_marauders, inc.)

(stole the "and by fair . . . less beautiful than {me}" line from Moony)



I Like Cheese

by Gilderoy Lockhart



chapter one: brie cheese



Goodday to you all, fair readers. And by fair, I mean, less beautiful than the radient, shimmering beauty that is I. My first chapter, intended to be read on a sunny day, when the birds are chirping and flying over the blue sky, reflecting on the water near the palace gates, like they did for me while I was in India, tasting a most delicious cheddar variation. That, however, is for a later chapter - this chapter is the facinating encounter with Brie cheese in my childhood.

I was a beautiful child; my mother won twelve pounds for me in a child beauty contest in Muggle London. My father prohibited me from going into Muggle London after that, claiming I was far too beautiful, and that the Muggles were going to get suspicious. That, of course, was right during the whole messy "Voldemort" thing. I prefer not to get into that right now, that is a most humorous chapter later on called "101 Ways to Eat Mozerella," in which I fought to the death with him, most ugly creature. It hurt my eyes to battle against such a hideous foe, it really did. Enough talking about him, though, let's talk about ME.

As I was saying, I was a terribly beautiful child, I knew that no one, not even Helen of Troy herself could compare to me. My mother advised that I do not eat those delicious grilled cheese sandwiches - she said it would ruin my supple complexion, and make me have spots. I, however, wanted cheese, more than anything else in the world. I would go to school with my healthy, crisp lettuce and cucumber sandwitch, with a little fat- free margirine on the healthy brown bread, to mind my weight, and watch the other children eat their fatty, sloppy, delicious grilled cheese sandwitches. That was, of course, before they began begging me to bless their presence with my beauty and grace at that most prestigious (less prestigious than me, of course) academy, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was there that I learned I could eat all of the cheese I wanted. And, oh, I did!

My very first encounter with cheese was right before I entered Hogwarts, actually - my annual trip to France. My parents wandered off to the Louvre together, leaving me to explore. I was quite content - I am in my element in Paris, honestly, the most beautiful city in the world, it really is. However, it doesn't even hold a candle to me. Where was I? Oh, right, the cheese - I wandered around, and alas, what did I find, but a stand selling Brie cheese. Pulling some of that crazy paper money the silly muggles have - Francs, I think they called it - I gave it to the French man (who was wearing a rather stylish French outfit . . . I adored the leather pants. But when I asked his designer, he didn't know. Shame, really, they would have looked absolutely gorgeous on my boyish figure). The man then handed me a rather large block of cheese, which I devoured greedily. I had not time to notice the splendid shape of the cheese. The creamy colour and silky texture, how light it was and how the late afternoon sun glinted off it. It smelt heavenly, filling my nostrils with a most desirable scent - like that of a lover (believe me, I've had my fair share). The taste was indescribable; the rich, lucious flavours, the deep, musky aftertaste, the delicious feeling of it sliding down one's throat, delicious, intoxicating, almost sensual. I loved that cheese - it was then that I realized what my one true passion (after myself, of course) was - cheese. I craved more. I needed it, I wanted it. Greedily but graciously, to be sure, I bought more of the heavenly creamy chunks and slid them into my robes.