Gilderoy's Garden of Gloriousness!

No, I'm telling you that he'll be expecting me. And if he isn't, won't he be surprised, what?

What do you mean, I'm not allowed in after visiting hours? Do you know who I am? You must be new here, mustn't you. Don't worry, I have plenty of photographs left. Now you say you want my autograph?

There you go. Now if you don't mind, just turn around and go back to your station while I just pop in here to visit my old friend Ronald. There's a good lad.

AAH! Ronald! What a surprise to see me here, isn't it? Aren't you pleased? I can see that you are.

Here, I've brought you some sweets for the holiday.

I found a Mystery!!

It's something very very secret, so I think I'll just keep it to myself. But it's a key. It is. With a funny-scary face on the end of it. I found it in the box that was labeled "Lockhart." Only there wasn't anything I'd think was mine in it. Just some old photographs of an old man with a beard. I suppose he looked a little bit like me, but not nearly as handsome and much older.

So, what kind of lock do you think would go along with a key that's in the shape of a snake being eaten by a skull?

Well, since it's a secret, I guess I'll have to figure out the answer for myself. Unless someone else can figure out what it means.

I'll probably figure it out first, though. I am very clever, you know.

Why hello there, my friend! How good of you to have saved me a seat? May I? Of course I may!

Remember how we've talked of playing Wizard's chess? Well I've brought my set. It was made especially for me, you know, so I have to warn you that I'm always white. I'm so not a winter. Much more spring and summer, wouldn't you agree?

I say, this isn't right. Why are there only red and black checkers and none of my shiny gold ones?

Well, I never! I leave this place for only a few weeks, and look, it's already falling apart. Why, I wouldn't be surprised if they removed the doilies from the chairs up on the 4th floor, and took down the portraits of me that I'd put up along all of the east wing corridors.

Oh, hello. Wait! I know you, don't I? Were you one of my students?

My name is Gilderoy Lockhart, I'm... well, at various times I've won some awards, and I've written several books, haven't I? They're quite good!

I have a home. Did you know that? Of course you did. After all, how could I not have a house? The mediwitch who helped me out of the hospital and into that disgustingly black and sooty chimney apparently knew precisely where it was and how to get there. For, as soon as she said "Gilderoy Lockhart's Home" she was "poofed" off in the most amazing sort of way!

That other lady wanted me to go after her. Really? If I had, all of that black stuff might have smudged my socks. No, it's much safer to walk, in my opinion. But, apparently before I had that option, the first lady came back (looking quite like a chimneysweep from my picture books), and insisted that I touch her arm so she could *zip* me home instead of *poofing* me home in the dirty chimney.

It took me a good twenty minutes to wipe off her arm enough to actually bring myself to touch it. No, I understand how their fancy "scourgify" spell works, but who knows what kind of soot bunnies might jump up and bite me, having hidden from the spell under her arm, or in her pocket, or behind the pillar in the corridor.

One just cannot take chances with these sorts of things.

I must say, it is nice to be home, though. There are two little elves here. One insisted that it be called Feldie, but I much prefer Gladiolus. Especially since he's old and wrinkly and works outdoors with the plants. The other one didn't really come up to me at all. She just hid behind one door and then another. When I finally found out her name was Luluninny (apparently I had named her years ago. Wasn't I an incredibly clever young man to choose such a beautiful name), and I called her, she came right up to me and started fiddling with that dingy hand-looking thing she wore. The mediwitch called it an "oven glove" but I don't know that it looked anything like an oven or a glove.

I think I shall get rid of those strange things the elves wear and give them something far more fitting. Trina (the Mediwitch's name was Trina. I don't think it quite fit her, but she seemed to like it well enough, and refused to answer when I called her "Millie-sue") insisted that if I give them new... things... to wear that they not be clothing unless I wished never to see them again. Which makes me wonder what sorts of things I can give them. Would it be terribly inappropriate to pull apart the drapes in the second floor, east wing bathroom and have them wear those? It just might be that the embroidered Gilderoy Lockhart faces might fall upon some of their very personal elvish bits.

But I do like the look of those drapes and so rarely use the east wing second floor bathroom. After all, it does have the smallest mirror, and the sink is marble-colored, and not gold or lavender.

Does anyone know where the light goes when I close this strange Muggle glowing book? Personally, I believe it's hiding someplace very clever, like behind the bricks in the cellar.

I don't go into the cellar. It's very dark and there are no mirrors in it.

Perhaps I ought to have some installed.

I say! This really is the most interesting and brilliant of devices, is it not? Just the idea of something like this...

A witch gave it to me. Very nice pretty young thing. She had this lovely auburn hair that wasn't nearly as healthy and shiny as mine, but still not bad for someone of the working class. I remember she had a bit of spinach in her teeth. I really ought to have told her about it, but then there would have been the off chance that she would actually have had a more brilliant smile than mine, and that just could not...

What am I saying? There's no way her smile would have been more brilliant. I was just being modest there. And we all know that false modesty is a travesty. Or was that tragedy?

The Metal book! Oh yes!!

It opens like a book, you see. And there's this picture on the right-hand side, and letters and words on the left, but they're all jumbled up like a jigsaw. Imagine that! So, I was looking at it, wondering what might such a thing be used for, and my assistant - oh, he's a darling. Young thing, wears glasses that are very much passé, but what can one expect? After all, he still wears these green robes just like all of the people in the hosp-... um... institution of higher education I was, um, in.

So, he does this brilliant thing, and turns it on its side! The little metal pieces that had letters on them - THEY WERE A WRITE-TYPER!!

I know!!! I was completely astonished, as well!

So, only a few hours of instruction (these things come easy to me, you know), I was able to push this button thing on the side, and the picture would light up, and then push it again and hold it down, and the picture would go away again! Imagine that!!

The only drawback to the machine is that in order to make any writings on it, one must have the picture viewable. Still, I'm sure someone will come up with a way of fixing that.

At any rate, here I am, after only three weeks, I've managed to get the metal book to work for me, and I can write stuff, and he insists that if I click on this button below, it shall make it available for all of my avid readers and life-long fans to read!

My only question is this: How am I to be paid royalties by everyone who reads this?