Ol' Entice (PG, Harry, OFC, Lockhart; 657 words): Gilderoy Lockhart's horse has wings, and someone's on a thestral.
Unable to sleep, Harry stumbled into the kitchen, started water for tea, and turned on the wireless with a click!
"Midnight is the 'Witching Hour' here at the Wizarding Wireless Network, and I'm Hysteria Primly, come to squeeze the latest juice out of the ripe fruit that is wizarding high society for your delectation."
His stomach rumbling, Harry thought, Great, trust me to listen when the only thing on is this crap.
"My dear, avid listeners, this morning we've much to lick our lips over as the deliciously notorious Gilderoy—"
Reaching for a cup, Harry froze and thought, Lockhart?
"—Lockhart begins a fabulously fresh career as the creator and pitchman of Ol' Entice, his magically spicy fragrance that promises to 'lock the heart of every witch upon those wizards who know how to wield their wands'—"
Harry snorted. "Right."
"—isn't that right, Mr Lockhart?"
"Oh, do call me Gilderoy, Hysteria."
"It would be my pleasure, Roy."
Harry, now peeling an orange, snorted again. Still a pompous arse.
"Of course, Gilderoy. Now tell us, for I know we're all fascinated by your advert, currently running in The Daily Prophet, Witch Weekly, and Swish and Flick Quarterly, how did you achieve sound?"
"Well, as much as I'd like to take credit for the innovation—"
"'M sure that's true," muttered Harry, wiping his hands on his pyjama bottoms and reaching for the Prophet.
"—I must make it clear—the solicitors insist upon it!—that one Colin Creevey is responsible for that bit of magical wonderment."
That figures, Harry thought, flipping through the paper in search of the advert.
"Oh, and it is wonderful, too, Gilderoy, for it means that we can hear your lovely voice as you sit so manfully astride your Aethonon. 'My horse has wings', you say, and why shouldn't it?"
"Why, indeed! All the better to 'strive for the best night of your life'! Might I persuade you, dear Hysteria, to allow your excellent listeners to hear the advertisement?" Lockhart asked, as Harry found it.
"One wand tap is all you need," he read, although he didn't reach for his wand to activate the charm in the paper.
"So many wizards would benefit from the use of Ol' Entice—witches, too, of course—that it would be a veritable public service for you to run it during the 'Witching Hour'!"
Harry rolled his eyes at Lockhart's enthusiasm and popped a piece of orange into his mouth as Primly said, "And so we become, temporarily, the 'Bewitching Hour' as I introduce the 'scent of adventure', Ol' Entice, to you, my dear listeners."
Watching Advert-Lockhart's attempt at a manly pose, Harry listened:
Hello, ladies. Look at your man, now back to me—now back to your man, now back to me."
Advert-Lockhart winked at Harry, who scowled. I don't have a man.
Sadly, he isn't me, but if he stopped using Ministry-sanctioned wandly waves and switched to Ol' Entice, he could spell like he's me. Look down, back up. Where are you? You're on a boat with the Man Your Man Could Spell Like.
"Merlin, this is ridicu—"
What's in your hand? Back at me—I have it: it's a house elf with two tickets to that thing you love. Look again: the tickets are now Galleons. Anything is possible when your man smells like Ol' Entice and not a lady. My horse has wings.
Harry barely managed to swallow his orange section before he burst out laughing while a trio of fairies in purple streamers rose above Advert-Lockhart's head and whistled, "Do do do doot doo do do doot!"
He almost burnt out the bottom of the tea kettle, he laughed so long, but he didn't fail to miss the bit of the interview where Lockhart explained to Primly that there were other wizards being featured in the campaign, and he was profoundly intrigued when Lockhart said, "And a few weeks hence, you'll be positively 'bewizarded' when you see who's on a thestral!"
I may continue this as I've some idea of just who's on that thestral. ;)