Harry/Gilderoy really hated the Quidditch game that Saturday, but he dared not deviate from the course of events. The hardest part, the absolute hardest part, was to pretend to botch the healing spell on Harry's arm. He had established a measure of respect with the Golden quartet, and the rest of the students, and this pretty much scuppered it completely. Madam Pomfrey would never forgive him.
Oh, well, he had the rest of the year to recover it in.
So it was that late that night in the Hospital Wing, seconds after the house-elf mentioned the Chamber of Secrets, Gilderoy acted. Wrapped in Harry's invisibility cloak — and hadn't that been a beastly bitch to get! — surrounded with a silencing spell, a powerful Notice-Me-Not spell, and a scent-suppressing spell, he had hidden under the boy's bed all night waiting. As soon as the words, ". . . now that the Chamber of Secrets is open once more . . . ," left Dobby's mouth, Gilderoy hit him with a stupefy, with his wand almost touching the elf's foot, and then bound him.
As the elf collapsed to the floor, Gilderoy stood up on the other side of the bed, shoving the cloak into his pocket and silently finiting the other spells on himself.
"Aha!" he cried aloud, "I knew something was wrong with that bludger! I knew there was a game afoot!" He adopted his 'Superman' stance, standing with hands on hips, his lavender cloak flung behind him, head held at just the right angle to impress onlookers.
Harry's head whipped around from staring at the bound elf on the floor to look at the Professor. He stared at Gilderoy, eyes wide in shock.
"Sorry, Harry," He looked at the boy sadly, "I really had no choice. If we wanted to find out who was trying to kill you I needed you isolated and apparently helpless. This way I could watch over and protect you, and catch your enemy before he did more harm. As I just did."
Harry continued to stare at him, "You . . . you vanished my bones on purpose?!" The outrage was clear in his voice.
"Oh, come, come, Harry. This hurt me far more than it did you!" Gilderoy rolled his eyes, smiling. "It's going to take me weeks, if not months, to repair the damage to my reputation! Even after we explain what really happened.
"You, on the other hand, will find your arm as good as new by morning and you'll have an exciting tale to tell your admiring fangirls, and, someday, your grandchildren." He gazed down on the boy wizard benevolently. Then he smiled sneakily and said, "You really need to improve your flirting skills. I think you should practice flirting with that pretty friend of yours, Miss. Granger. I know she shan't mind."
Harry stared at him, blinking, processing what he had heard. "What really happened? What really happened?" The boy was too shocked to speak coherently, at first. "What really happened," he said furiously, "is that you deliberately vanished the bones in my arm!"
"Harry," the professor said, "I know what you're thinking, but, please, trust me on this. We have thwarted a plot by Draco Malfoy to kill you!"
Harry stared at him, mouth gaping open, "Kill me? That prat?"
Gilderoy nodded, "Yes, yes, that's precisely what happened. You see, Dobby, here, is the Malfoy House-elf. And everyone knows that house-elves always do exactly as they are ordered. So, if he cursed that bludger, he had to do it because Mr. Draco Malfoy ordered him to do it.
"That bludger was trying to splatter your brains all over the Quidditch Pitch yesterday. If not for your quick reflexes, it would have succeeded, too. Fortunately for you, the Weasley twins managed to corral it after it demolished your elbow and prevented it from ploughing your head into the ground while you were lying there helpless."
Harry stared at him speechlessly, eyes-wide in shock.
Lockhart nodded in satisfaction, "Yes, that's exactly it. Draco Malfoy wanted you eliminated so he easily could catch the snitch and the Slytherins could win the game. He couldn't just wound you, that's too easy to fix and you'd be right back in the game. It had to be something serious, so serious you'd be off the field immediately. So, he had his house-elf curse the bludger in an attempt to eliminate you permanently. In other words, to kill you. This was nothing less than an attack on House Potter by House Malfoy!"
Harry finally closed his mouth and said, bewildered, "But that's not what he said, he said he was trying to protect me!"
"Harry, Harry, Harry," Gilderoy said condescendingly. "You don't understand. House-elves have to do exactly as they are ordered. And Draco Malfoy, his master, told poor Dobby, here, to kill you and then tell everyone he was trying to protect you, that it was all an accident! He can't tell the truth when his master has ordered him to tell a lie! And it is impossible for a house-elf to act independently." 'Unless they are insane,' he didn't add. "House-elves simply can't run off and do something unrelated to their normal house duties without direct orders. They just can't, they have to have orders from their owner!"
Lockhart shook his head, "It would have been the perfect murder, too. You die in a tragic accident by a rogue bludger and Draco wins his first game to the accolades of everyone in Slytherin. And then the Slytherins win both the Quidditch Cup and the House Cup at the end of the year. And, incidentally, Draco then inherits the Potter fortune in addition to the Black fortune."
And that effectively derailed Harry Potter from everything. "Potter fortune?" he said loudly.
The D.A.D.A. professor looked at Harry, frowning slightly, "Why yes, Harry, you are Heir to the Potter fortune. Hasn't your magical guardian told you about your heritage? The Potters are an Ancient and Noble House in England. When you become an adult, you will take the reins of one of the ten wealthiest Houses in England. And you and Draco are third-cousins by your great-grandmother, Dorea Black. If you die, then Draco inherits as the next closest relative. Unless you make out a will to the contrary, of course, which I suggest you do as soon as possible.
"Your vast riches are one reason Mr. Ronald Weasley is so jealous of you."
They heard, well, Gilderoy heard a commotion outside the Hospital Wing door. Harry was still too much in shock at hearing he was wealthy, and related to Draco, to notice anything farther away than his bed.
In the next moment, Dumbledore was backing into the dormitory, wearing a long woolly dressing gown and a nightcap. He was floating what looked like a statue. Professor McGonagall followed a second later. Harry and Gilderoy watched as the Headmaster deposited it onto a bed.
"I say," said Gilderoy, "What is all this, then?"
The Headmaster and Professor McGonagall turned quickly. They had been too involved with the statue to notice the other professor standing beside Harry Potter's bed.
"Get Madam Pomfrey," said Dumbledore, and Professor McGonagall hurried past the end of Harry's bed out of sight.
"Ah, Professor Lockhart. What a surprise to find you here." The old Wizard blinked, eyes twinkling, and then he sighed. "Another attack, I'm afraid," said Dumbledore, "I found him on the stairs."
Professor McGonagall swept back into view, closely followed by Madam Pomfrey, who was pulling a cardigan on over her nightdress.
Harry/Gilderoy sighed as well. He looked at Harry and saw his expression of horror as he realized it was Colin Creevey. Colin's eyes were wide and his hands were stuck up in front of him, holding his camera.
"Petrified?" whispered Madam Pomfrey.
"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "But I shudder to think . . . if Albus hadn't been on the way downstairs for hot chocolate — who knows what might have —"
That was fishy, Gilderoy thought. Why would the Headmaster walk to the kitchens through an icy-cold castle late at night for a hot chocolate when a simple request to a House-elf would have it in his hands in seconds? Did the Headmaster already know about the Basilisk and was tracking its movements through the castle? And therefore needed a reason to go rescue the latest victim? He knew that Dumbledore was a tricky old goat, but did he really have that little regard for the safety of the students?
A moment later, they all stared at the smoking ruin that was the insides of Colin's camera, with Dumbledore ominously saying, "The question is not who. The question is, how . . . ."
Now that WAS fishy, it implied that he already knew who . . . .
Into the silence the Headmaster's question produced, Gilderoy said, "Well, that's all very fine and good, but we have a more serious problem over here." The D.A.D.A. Professor pointed to the stunned and bound house-elf on the floor. The three clustered around the petrified young Wizard jumped, startled. They had forgotten the other Wizard, so wrapped up were they in Dumbledore's drama-queen moment.
Madam Pomfrey said, "A house-elf?" looking back and forth between Lockhart and the elf.
Gilderoy was in his element, a captive audience with questions only he could answer. And no one could contradict him.
"Not just any house-elf," he corrected the witch, posing dramatically, "but the very one who cursed a bludger to kill Harry Potter!"
The others looked at him astonished.
"You see, I knew something was wrong with that bludger. It followed only Mr. Potter, it tried to hit only Mr. Potter. Several times I saw Mr. Potter just barely elude a direct strike against his head at speeds guaranteed to kill, isn't that right, Mr. Potter? How many times did you hear the whistle of the wind as it narrowly missed your head, Mr. Potter? Three times? Four?"
"Four," whispered Harry.
"Aha! Four times the bludger barely missed killing our little Wizard, here." He looked down at the trussed up house-elf. "And I heard this little bugger confess to Mr. Potter that he was the one who did it! Isn't that right, Mr. Potter?"
Harry nodded again.
"Surely, you must be mistaken," the Headmaster interjected, eyes twinkling. "Why would a Hogwarts' house-elf do anything of the sort?"
"Ah, but you see, my dear Albus, this house-elf is not a Hogwarts house-elf!" Gilderoy declared gleefully, holding up a finger in triumph.
The Headmaster leaned closer and stared at the house-elf. "Ah, I see. None of the Hogwarts' house-elves would wear such a tatty attire."
The two witches were listening attentively.
"Furthermore, the house-elf admitted that he was the reason why Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter were unable to access Platform Nine-and-three-quarters at King's Cross Station. He also confessed to stealing the boy's owl mail last summer!"
The two witches gasped. The Headmaster frowned in thought. A house-elf stealing mail? Unheard of!
"And it did all this at the instructions of its owner," Gilderoy concluded. "A clear case of attempted premeditated murder disguised as an 'accident.' If Mr. Potter were just a tad slower in dodging, we would be making funeral arrangements. We need the Aurors here as soon as possible to handle the house-elf's interrogation."
"I don't think we need to involve the Aurors in this, Professor Lockhart, . . ." said the Headmaster, projecting a concerned grandfatherly image.
Gilderoy interrupted, "Oh, yes, we most definitely do need the Aurors here. I have many talents," he paused momentarily to preen, "and I'm sure I could interrogate the house-elf and learn all his secrets, but this is now a legal case, not a prank. We have an outside house-elf that has invaded Hogwarts and attempted a murder. This is not a mere schoolboy prank. We must call the Aurors!
"It must be handled delicately, though. I'm positive his owner ordered the house-elf to lie about why it did these things. That it will claim it did all these things without its master's permission or orders." He looked at the others incredulously, "Can you imagine any house-elf acting on its own, without orders of any kind? And doing something that its owner definitely would not want it to do? Imagine the uproar if it was proven that a house-elf had deliberately attacked or killed a Wizard of its own accord, and against its master's wishes!"
Professor McGonagall said softly, "A house-elf cannot do anything it thinks its master might not want it to do. In the absence of general or express orders, it can only do things it knows its master will approve of it doing — generally housekeeping chores."
The Headmaster again tried to downplay the situation. "I think we can handle this here at Hogwarts without needing the Aurors," he said, eyes twinkling.
"Headmaster," Gilderoy said grimly, "This is no longer just a school Quidditch prank. It is quite possibly an attack on a student by an adult from outside this school! If that is the case, what will you do? Dock him points? Make him write lines with a Blood-quill? Send him out on a detention in the Forbidden Forest?
"This was a murder attempt on the only surviving member of House Potter. It would easily have succeeded were it not for the lad's exceptional flying skills. And the next legal inheritor, or his family, orchestrated the attack! The perpetrator has a motive, he has the means, and at yesterday's game, he had the opportunity to do it. If you do nothing, he will try again! And next time he might succeed." He paused a second to let them think about that. "If you do not call the Aurors, I will." He declared posing again in his 'heroic' superman stance.
The Headmaster sighed, "Let us move to my office then," and he turned to leave the Hospital Wing.
"And that is why we need to call the Aurors, Headmaster!" Gilderoy declared loudly. "You would have us remove the house-elf from the scene of the crime and perhaps destroy important evidence? Or worse, leave the house-elf here with Mr. Potter unable to defend himself and hope the house-elf doesn't wake and finish his master's orders? I will remain here and protect the crime scene while you notify the Aurors. Perhaps you could use Madam Pomfrey's floo?" The Headmaster turned and looked at him, eyes not twinkling at all. The Headmaster was not happy with Lockhart ordering him around like a common Wizard.
Ten minutes later two Aurors walked out of Madam Pomfrey's office, with Pomfrey escorting them, into the brilliantly lit Hospital Wing. The only conscious patient was Harry, and everyone knew he wasn't getting anymore sleep tonight.
The lead Wizard, a tall, powerfully built black-skinned man, introduced himself as they approached the small group by the beds. "Hello. I'm Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt, and this is Auror Gowain Robards." He nodded to the Head Healer, "Madam Pomfrey tells me you have a case of attempted murder?" He raised an eyebrow inquiringly.
"Perhaps," stated Dumbledore, "I believe it isn't nearly as serious as that, but Professor Lockhart," he turned slightly, lifting his hand dismissively to indicate the Wizard, "seems to think that this house-elf," he pointed at the still stupefied and bound elf, "attempted to kill Mr. Potter," he pointed vaguely at Harry.
"Oh, no," said Lockhart, "I don't think that, I know that. After all, the house-elf confessed to trying to knock Mr. Potter off his broom while he was playing Quidditch yesterday, when the child was a hundred or more feet in the air. And the bludger he cursed was aiming at the boy's head! Even a glancing blow could have been fatal."
At first sceptical, the Aurors quickly realized the seriousness of the situation as Harry and Gilderoy filled them in on what happened during the Quidditch game. Professor McGonagall quickly corroborated their stories with her view from the Commentator's Booth, although she had only seen two of the near misses.
The D.A.D.A. Professor then offered his conclusions about the motives involved and that a substantial fortune was at stake. Then he gave his deductions about the house-elf's instructions from its owner, laying it on thickly that no house-elf could ever attempt anything as serious as murder without the orders of his master. As evidence that the owner had to have ordered the house-elf to lie about his motives, Lockhart told the Aurors about how the house-elf had closed the gateway to Platform Nine-and-three-quarters and stole Mr. Potter's owl mail.
"One of these actions could possibly be explained as the house-elf misunderstanding an order," Gilderoy explained, "but all three?" the Wizard shook his head. "Once is an accident, twice is a co-incidence, three times is malicious intent," he concluded.
"I notice you have avoided saying the name of the person you suspect is behind this house-elf's actions," said Shacklebolt.
Smiling broadly, as if he were introducing a celebrity to an audience, Gilderoy said, "Why, Draco Malfoy, of course."
The uproar was instantaneous. The Headmaster flatly refused to believe it, "Nonsense, that boy would never do something like that. Pranks maybe, attempted murder? Never!"
"Let's look at the facts, shall we?" Lockhart said reasonably. "This is the first game that Mr. Malfoy is the Slytherin Seeker. His father bought the team new top-of-the-line brooms just to get the boy on the team. If he didn't get the snitch, not only does he disappoint his father but also the Slytherin Team will be upset with him for losing them the game. And after all the bragging he did about how he's so much better than Mr. Potter, well, you can see he has a lot on the line here, can't you? And Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter have been at loggerheads since they first met last year on the Hogwarts Express. Ask any student.
"First, Mr. Malfoy ordered the house-elf to prevent Mr. Potter from returning to Hogwarts by stealing his mail and preventing him from getting his Hogwarts letter with the Year's requirements. When that failed, he ordered the house-elf to prevent Mr. Potter from coming to Hogwarts, physically, by blocking the Platform entrance. When that didn't work, Mr. Malfoy started to get desperate. He tried several times to get the Mr. Potter in trouble by provoking him into a fight, hoping to get him banned from the team, but that didn't work either. Finally, Mr. Malfoy ordered his house-elf to remove Mr. Potter from the game, and if it happened to be permanently, well so much the better."
Shacklebolt turned to Robards, "This is way above our paygrade, go get Madam Bones."
"She's not gonna appreciate a call at this time of the morning. . . ." said the other Auror.
"Well, unless you're volunteering to get in-between House Potter and House Malfoy . . . ?"
The other Auror sighed. "Not a chance," he muttered, and turned to Madam Pomfrey. "May I use your floo?"
She nodded and the two headed back to her office.
Shacklebolt stared at the D.A.D.A. Professor. "You realize this all hinges on this being the Malfoys' house-elf."
Gilderoy smiled confidently. "An easy solution. Bring the boy here and ask him if this is his house-elf. To confirm it have the boy order the house-elf to bring him something from his home with the family crest on it. Only a Malfoy house-elf could enter the Malfoy mansion and retrieve a belonging."
Shacklebolt harrumphed in reply. He stared at the bound house-elf impassively.
"I suppose," Lockhart said, frowning, "that the boy could be innocent, but in that case it means that Mr. Malfoy's father was the one giving orders to the house-elf. The problem there, of course, is why the father would involve himself with Mr. Potter. What possibly could the Wizard have against this boy? Unless it is to ensure that his son inherits both House Potter and House Black. Worse crimes have been committed to lock in an inheritance, don't you know. And those two Houses added to the Malfoy House would make him the richest and most powerful Wizard in the world.
"Ah, before I forget, I am willing to submit my memories of the game and everything I heard in the Hospital tonight, just to make sure there are no mistakes made in what I heard or saw. I'm sure Mr. Potter is also willing to provide his memories."
The dark-skinned Auror nodded his understanding.
At Harry's wide-eyed, "Providing memories?" Gilderoy gave him a brief explanation of pensieves and how they make it possible for people to view other's memories of events. And eliminate many he-said, she-said arguments because others could see and hear exactly what happened and who said what!
"Headmaster," Gilderoy said, smiling broadly, "because this involves a Slytherin, I think you should have Professor Snape observe the proceedings when Department of Magical Law Enforcement Head Madam Bones arrives, don't you?" He stared at the Wizard expectantly briefly.
"Professor Snape is the head of Slytherin House here at Hogwarts, and acts as parentis in locus for his students," Lockhart said to the Auror. "It is only proper that he be here considering it concerns not only one of his students, but also the son of a good friend of his." He paused, cradling his right elbow in his left hand as he tapped his finger on his chin. "I think he's the boy's godfather, actually." He straightened as if he had just thought of something. "In fact, being such a good friend of the family, he might be able to identify the house-elf for us!"
The Auror looked at the Headmaster inquiringly. The Headmaster said, eyes twinkling, "Yes, let's do that." He lifted his wand and a phoenix patronus burst from his wand. Moments later, it winged out of the room.
It took the Dungeon Bat almost fifteen minutes to wake, dress, and cross the entirety of the Castle to the Hospital Wing. He swept in the door, robes billowing dramatically, like a giant bat in the night. "Headmaster," he said, eyes sweeping the people in the room and pausing momentarily on the Auror. "What has Mr. Potter done this time? Are you finally going to expel the miscreant trouble-maker?"
The Auror looked incredulous at the unfounded accusation. He shook his head slightly and introduced himself, "I'm Auror Shacklebolt."
Snape stopped beside the Headmaster and stared at Harry and Gilderoy. Gilderoy smiled cheerily. "Ah, Professor Snape, ever the jokester!"
Everyone except the Auror stared at Gilderoy in disbelieving amazement. Professor Snape? Make jokes? Was the D.A.D.A. Professor mad?
With his audience suitably distracted from their bickering, the dandy moved to the end of Harry's bed and pointed. "Do you, perhaps, know this house-elf?"
Snape's eyes flickered down at the bound house-elf, and a frown appeared. "That is the Malfoy house-elf, Dobby." He had no reason to lie and he knew that to deny he recognized the house-elf would only cause problems when the truth came out later.
"Aha!" declared Gilderoy in self-satisfaction, "I told you he was Malfoys'!"
"You are positive?" asked the Auror.
"As positive as I can be about the identity of any house-elf I've seen. Only Mr. Malfoy could tell us beyond the shadow of a doubt." He shot an accusatory glance at Gilderoy and Harry. He knew that somehow those two were the cause of this late-night crisis.
While they waited for Madam Bones to arrive, the Headmaster filled Snape in on the night's events. Gilderoy filled Harry in on how to make out a will, with the promise that he would take him to Gringotts over the Christmas hols to file it. And suggested having Hermione help him in making it in the meantime — there were books about the subject in the library, after all.
"Whatever you do, Harry, do not make me a beneficiary," the blond dandy ordered earnestly. "I know how much you admire me, but I have sufficient funds to keep me happy.
"The purpose of a Will is to make sure that your estate — money and property — stays out of the hands of those you dislike while ensuring it does go to those who deserve it the most. And while you might not realize it yet, Miss Granger is your most loyal friend and ally. You would be better served to leave the Potter holdings to Miss Granger. With her intelligence, she would use what you give her for the betterment of all Wizards and Witches. Give only a small amount of a few thousand Galleons to each of the Weasley family — you know how they feel about charity.
"Think carefully about who has supported you both last year and this year."
"And you should definitely tell Miss Granger that she has your permission to use Hedwig to write to her parents. She is your friend and she has no way to communicate with her parents. It would make her ever so happy if you were to do that. And it would give Hedwig a sense of purpose instead of just hanging out in the owlery all the time being bored. Hmm? I'll add a spell to the owl so that any Muggle who sees him will only see a common bird like a pigeon or swallow, that way she shan't attract any attention in the Granger's neighbourhood." Harry nodded with a thoughtful expression on his face.
Finally, a tall, stern looking woman with a monocle exited Madam Pomfrey's office, followed by six other Aurors.
"Madam Bones," Gilderoy said as if greeting an old friend — Gilderoy had never met the woman! — "I am delighted to see the Department of Magical Law Enforcement is finally taking note Mr. Potter's trials and tribulations at Hogwarts." The woman looked at him, frowning. "This is the first time this year someone has tried to kill him." At that declaration, Madam Bones' frown grew even deeper.
"Why last year," the Wizard continued blithely, "there were no fewer than three times that the D.A.D.A. professor, Quirinus Quirrell, tried to kill him, and the last one put him in Hospital here for several days." He grinned at her broadly. "This year, of course, I, 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, am Hogwarts' beloved Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor. I do my utmost to keep all students safe, thus things are not nearly so desperate for the boy." He posed proudly. "I knew I would have to be on my toes this year when at the Opening Feast Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley were purposely delayed. I knew there was a game afoot. Crime is common. Logic is rare. Therefore it is upon the logic that I dwell."
He leaned closer to the Witch, as if confiding a secret to a friend, "I knew the game was afoot and that it was merely a matter of time before there would be another blatant attempt on Mr. Potter's life. When Halloween passed with merely a threat on his life and no action, I knew it would be at the first Quidditch game, just as it happened last year." She wasn't stupid, she caught his reference and he knew she would wonder why no one had advised her department of a serious attempt on the life of an Heir of an Ancient and Noble House.
He straightened and beamed at her happily. "I'm not one to meddle in an official investigation, but if I were you I would ask Mr. Potter for his memories of fighting the Troll, the first Quidditch game, the attack in the Forbidden Forest, and his fatal encounter with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named during finals week last June!" Madam Bones' monocle fell out as she stared at him. He nodded knowingly. "And you might want to ask him about some of his more violent confrontations with Mr. Malfoy from last year as well, to give you a bit of background on Mr. Malfoy's unashamed antagonism towards Mr. Potter and his close friends, Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger. There is even a dragon involved!"
Gilderoy knew the Headmaster was not going to be happy with the memories Harry provided to the Madam Bones about his adventures the previous year. They would show neither the Headmaster nor the school in a good light. And when they finally noticed the petrified student and got that story? The D.A.D.A. Professor knew the Headmaster was going to be in a world of hurt.
"And," he added conspiratorially, "Just you wait, there are things going on this year that make last year look placid!" He smiled, "My next book is going to eclipse all my previous books, I promise you!" The Head Auror looked worried.
Then he shook his head, sadly. "Mr. Malfoy, Draco, that is, is going to profess his ignorance of the house-elf's activities, naturally. And the house-elf can only say what his master has told him to say, so we shan't get the truth from him, either. His Master has ordered him to say that the house-elf only wanted to warn Mr. Potter away, not kill him. The only solution, you know, is to have an inquiry in front of the entire Wizengamot, and give the child a dose of veritaserum.
"But his father will never let that happen, and we both know it, don't we? What parent would in such a grave matter?" His normal smile was absent and he sincerely looked unhappy. "But based on the facts at hand, what can we do? If we do nothing, the child will be emboldened to try again, and next time I might not be close enough to Mr. Potter to foil the attempt." He sighed. "I hate to say it, but the only course I can see is for Mr. Draco Malfoy to either give a Wizard's Oath that he will not pursue his feud against Mr. Potter or have his father remove him from the school until both children are of age." He shook his head again, feigning sorry.
Over the next hour, different Aurors interviewed Harry and Gilderoy several times. Both stated, repeatedly, that they would be happy to provide memories of the events they witnessed.
Personally, Harry/Gilderoy was hoping that Draco would end up at Durmstrang, but his swindle earlier that week might have made that school a bit too expensive for the Malfoys — while the Ministry paid the tuition at Hogwarts, the Ministry would not fund a student to a school in another country.
He would settle for an Oath that Malfoy would cease his hostilities towards Harry and his friends and stay out of any House disputes. They would have to word the oath carefully so that the two boys could interact in school classes, and play Quidditch, and just limit the Oath to prevent the boy from plotting to harm Harry either in person or via a second party. He mentioned as much to Madam Bones.
But Gilderoy would leave the particulars to the D.M.L.E., the Headmaster, and Malfoy. If the Headmaster managed to convince everyone that an Oath wasn't required, then Harry/Gilderoy would have to up the ante and get Draco removed from the school in disgrace.
They summoned Mr. Malfoy from his dorm, and, as Gilderoy had predicted, he admitted the house-elf was Dobby, from Malfoy Manor. However, he was adamant that he did not order Dobby to harm Harry. In fact he insisted he had never given any orders to the house-elf regarding Harry or any other student at Hogwarts. Naturally, the Headmaster violated the boy's privacy by invading his mind, without coming out and actually saying he had, and declared the boy innocent.
Fortunately, Madam Bones refused to take the word of an old Wizard, no matter how venerable, in a case of what clearly was attempted murder and Line Theft. Especially when the Wizard couldn't provide any concrete evidence to back up his statement of innocence without disclosing that he had committed an Azkaban-worthy mind-crime.
Gilderoy almost — almost — felt sorry for the boy. For once, he truly was an innocent in the proceedings. When the Aurors finally left, almost nine in the morning, it was with the Slytherin boy, Professor Snape, and the Headmaster. Madam Bones had allowed Professor Snape to floo-call Mr. Malfoy to meet them at the ministry.
The D.A.D.A. professor watched Harry rush off to tell his friends the news about both Colin Creevey and Malfoy.
At dinner, the Headmaster still had not returned, so Gilderoy took it upon himself to tell the tale to the students, very dramatically, about Colin Creevey being petrified. And how he had spent the entire night with Mr. Potter, lying in wait to trap the culprit responsible for putting Harry in the Hospital Wing. That got Harry looks of pity from the boys and ones of envy from the girls. The students were astonished when he said that the culprit had returned that night to gloat, and that he, Gilderoy Lockhart, had caught him and turned him over to the Aurors. He did not mention either Draco or the house-elf by name.
The Slytherin's were not the only students to notice Draco Malfoy's absence at their noonday meal.
The Headmaster had returned with Draco not too long after dinner that same day. Gilderoy's alerts on the front gate and the Headmaster's Gargoyle had told him the boy was back. He had intercepted Professor Snape escorting the young Wizard to his dorms from the office.
"Ah, Professor Snape," Gilderoy had exclaimed jovially as he "accidentally" came across the two in the third floor corridor heading for the stairs. "I see you have returned." He struck a pose with arm on his hip holding his plum-coloured robes to the side dashingly.
Draco glowered at the floor silently while the Potions professor scowled heavily at the D.A.D.A. professor.
"I presume that Mr. Malfoy, here, will still be with us in classes this week?" he continued.
If looks could kill — and with certain creatures they can but fortunately for Lockhart Snape wasn't one of them — then Gilderoy's next major event would have been a funeral.
"Yes, Mr. Malfoy is still a student. He swore he had nothing to do with the bludger attack or the other two incidents. He has agreed to avoid Mr. Potter," he practically spit the name out, "and his troublemaker friends." He glared at Gilderoy. "The Headmaster will give them the details after tea tonight."
"I am relieved to hear that," Lockhart replied cheerfully, lying through his teeth. "What happened to the poor house-elf?"
"That . . . creature . . . was given clothes by Mr. Malfoy, senior," Snape ground out.
"Oh?" said Gilderoy calmly, "They didn't execute the house-elf?"
"The Headmaster successfully argued the creature was not at fault."
"Well, he was only following orders he could not refuse," Gilderoy said consolingly. "Hopefully his new master will not have a vendetta against The-Boy-Who-Lived or any of his allies."
The Dungeon dweller snorted derisively and pushed his charge lightly to get the boy moving. "Excuse us," he said, still scowling as they walked past the other professor.
"By the way," Lockhart said, aggravating the Potions professor still more, "Now that we have a Wizard casualty, when will the Mandrake Restorative Potion be ready?"
Professor Snape stopped and sneered at him, "Surely your limited intelligence can comprehend that the Mandrakes will not be mature until late May at the earliest. To give a date for the potion's preparation is premature."
"Oh, that's right," the foppish professor said as if he had forgotten. Then he continued in a very condescending tone, "I keep forgetting that others are not as well-travelled or world-educated as myself." He smiled patronizingly, preening slightly, letting the others know he was indeed superior to them, "South Africa has the opposite climate as England. What we harvest as mature in late May, they harvest as mature in late November. There are even greenhouses where they grow mandrakes to mature every month. With my extensive world-spanning connections, I can have freshly mature Mandrakes here by December First at the latest."
Then he frowned at Professor Snape. "It would unconscionable to make Mr. Creevey lose almost his entire first year because the school refused to spend a few galleons to cure him this term, wouldn't it? After all, if he misses the entire year because the school chose to pinch knuts, the Ministry would have to fund his tuition for an extra year, which is considerably more than a few mandrakes. Not to mention how reprehensible it would be to force him to lose all his friends and start over as a First Year next year. The alternative would be to pay for tutors all summer so he can attend Second Year, which would be far more expensive than a few mandrakes."
The Dungeon Bat looked furious at the insinuation that Lockhart was better than he was. He stared at the other professor for a moment, struggling to control his urge to hex him. "Indeed," he finally forced himself to say. Draco was staring at Gilderoy as well. Clearly neither had considered the world outside their cosy corner. Scowling, Professor Snape turned and led Draco down the corridor, leaving the disgustingly cheerful dandy behind them.
(◎_◎)
It was late afternoon and Gilderoy was sitting in his office grading papers. Harry was with his friends in the Gryffindor Common Room rehashing what had happened that morning in the Hospital Wing, and the fact that Draco was back from the Ministry and hiding in the Slytherin Dungeons. They hadn't yet touched on Wills, or the fact that the Potters were rich, but there was plenty of time for both those topics in the coming weeks.
His door alarm went off and he looked up to see Lucius Malfoy walking up. About time, he thought. He had expected the Wizard to be here much sooner.
Gilderoy opened the door as soon as the other man knocked. "Lucius!" he said ingratiatingly, acting surprised, "What a pleasant surprise!"
The Wizard gave him an ugly look, shoved his way inside, and then turned to face the dapper professor. "Get out!" he ordered, "You're fired!" He thrust a scroll at the professor. Lockhart pretended to be surprised as he took the scroll and unrolled it. "I just came from a Board of Governors meeting," continued Malfoy senior, "and you've been sacked!"
"Um huh," said the professor as he scanned the document, "Uh huh, interesting, uh huh." He looked up at the irate Wizard and smiled. "I'm sure I don't understand what this is about, but in any case, this," he waved the scroll negligently, "is meaningless."
"What!"
Gilderoy walked over and tossed the scroll on his desk. "Yes," he said, still smiling pleasantly, "The Board of Governors is an advisory group to Hogwarts. According to their charter, they have no control over what actually happens. They can't hire anyone. They can't fire anyone. They have no control over how departments spend their money. All they can do is issue directives to the Headmaster on what they think he should do. He is free to ignore them at his will. The only one they can fire is the Headmaster himself, and then only for due cause, such as gross negligence, financial mismanagement, or endangering the students' welfare." That last condition, considering the Philosopher's Stone last year, should have had the old goat out on the streets already.
Malfoy stared at him, furious at being thwarted, furious that this professor had accused his son of a serious crime, furious that this popinjay had bested him.
"The charter also says that if the Governors have any questions about a staff member's conduct, they can request that he or she attend a meeting where they can discuss the matter with him or her. Now then, if the Governors feel I am a liability to the staff, they can recommend the Headmaster remove me. If they do so, I will not oppose them. I am free this evening, if you wish to call the Governors together." There now, the noose was set, and the rope made available. Would Lucius be stupid enough to hang himself?
The head of the Malfoy clan bared his teeth ferociously, "Yes, I think I shall." He turned and stormed out of the room.
Gilderoy smiled broadly.
(◎_⊙)
At tea that evening, as Lockhart watched Draco Malfoy studiously ignore Harry Potter's little group, a lone owl winged its way to him at the Headmaster's table. The Board of Governor's meeting was set for seven in the Hogwarts' Boardroom.
Just as he was finishing his second treacle-tart, the Headmaster leaned over to Professor McGonagall, "Minerva, my dear, would you please ask Mr. Potter to come to my office after tea tonight. You will need to accompany him." The cat animagus nodded genially, "Of course, Albus." The old Wizard then stood and made his way to the side door, and thence to his office.
Harry/Gilderoy hurried to his office. He seated himself comfortably at his desk chair, cast a silencing charm around himself, and then on himself. Into the profound silence that produced came the sounds of Harry and Professor McGonagall walking. He set a parchment on the desk and readied his quill. A minute later he heard, "Dum-Dums" and the sound of stone grinding on stone as the gargoyle moved. The escalator staircase was mostly quiet. Moments later came the Headmaster's voice, "Enter."
"Harry, my boy, I hope you've had a good day?"
He heard a familiar snort. Naturally, Snape was there with McGonagall and Harry.
"Yes, Sir." He heard the creak of leather as Harry sat in one of the office chairs.
"And your arm is in tip-top shape?"
"Yes, sir, but Madam Pomfrey told me to treat it easily for the next week until the bone is back at full strength."
"Good, my boy, good. Would you like a lemon drop?"
There was a long silence. The old goat was trying to soften the boy up by making him nervous. Silently stare at Harry until he started to fidget. Once the boy is fidgeting, he's less likely to think about his answers.
Gilderoy had discussed negotiating tactics during a detention with Harry, with special emphasis on those used by Dumbledore and Snape. After explaining the techniques favoured by both in condescending tones, he had said, smiling broadly, "Watch them closely, they do so love their little mind games."
The Headmaster sighed dramatically, and Harry/Gilderoy could picture him sitting forward and placing his elbows on the desk with one hand wrapped over the other.
"I had a long talk with Mr. Malfoy and Draco. Both deny having anything to do with their house-elf attacking you or stealing your mail. The actions of this Dobby were a complete surprise to them both."
"Professor Lockhart said house-elves can't do anything without the permission of their owner," said Harry. "Neville told me the same thing. If that's so, then how did Dobby do those things?"
"We don't know. But both Mr. Malfoy and Draco swore oaths on their magic that they did not tell Dobby to take your owl mail, nor to stop you from getting on the Hogwarts Express, nor to curse the bludger to attack you. And they both can still do magic."
Silence as the boy thought that over. "Is that all?"
"Isn't it enough, Potter?" came Snape's sneering voice.
"No, it isn't," said the Headmaster, gently. Harry/Gilderoy could imagine the sidelong look that the Headmaster gave Snape. "Draco Malfoy also gave an oath to neither insult or start any fights with you."
"What about Hermione, Neville, Luna, and Ron?"
Gilderoy was happy to hear Harry immediately catch the loophole for Hermione, Luna, and Neville, not so much for Ron.
"They are included, as well."
"Why aren't they here?"
"I'm sure you will tell them what they need to know, of course."
Bastard. All three students should be in there, not just Harry.
"What about the other Slytherins? What's to prevent him from ordering one of them to do his dirty work for him?"
"Potter!" came Snape's voice, again. Apparently, the Headmaster stopped him with a look from saying more.
"Mr. Malfoy is prohibited from using his influence in Slytherin House to have others accost you or your friends."
Another silence, then, "Thank you, sir."
"Just a word or warning, this only applies to Hogwarts during the school year," the Headmaster said sternly.
More silence.
"Well, I think your friends are wondering what you're up to, so you should probably hurry back to your dorm and bring them up to date."
There were the sounds of chairs scraping. "Good bye, sir."
"Good bye, Harry."
Gilderoy waited until he knew Professor McGonagall and Harry had left the office before cancelling the silencing spells on himself. He reviewed all his notes and sighed. There was still so much to do.
He pulled up a fresh parchment. He needed to make an appointment with Rita Skeeter. She should love some of the dirt he had on Malfoy senior. With her doing the pushing, it shouldn't take too long to get Malfoy kicked off the Wizenmaggots for behaviour unbecoming a Wizard of that body — although he wasn't sure how anything a member did might be considered unbecoming behaviour for that body.
(⊙_◎)
Gilderoy stopped just outside the door to the Governors' Boardroom on the third floor and made sure everything was set — his perfectly tailored mauve robes with matching vest and pants, his hair just so, his shoes shining flawlessly. Appearance was vitally important on a first introduction. After all, as he had told Harry many times, Proper Preparation Prevents Piss Poor Performance!
Hiring Dobby had been truly gratifying. He was Gilderoy's first house-elf, and the Wizard was amazed at how his fortunes were changing and growing. For Harry, it was wonderful to see Dobby once more alive, and as hyperactive as ever! The little guy had cried with happiness when told his job was to look out for Harry Potter and spying on Harry's enemies.
It was show time. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out, knocked smartly on the door and stepped inside, his robes billowing artistically behind him, his gorgeous smile distracting his opponents, his foppish manners making his enemies underestimate him.
He smiled confidently as his gaze swept the room.
The corner room normally gave a magnificent view of the lake and Quidditch Pitch, but tonight was moonless and the dark windows ate the candles' light ominously. There were thirteen members on the Hogwarts Board of Governors, and Lucius was currently the Head of the Board. He glared at Gilderoy while the others looked at the Professor with varying degrees of interest and curiosity.
"Good evening, Wizards and Witches! As you no doubt know, I am Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award, and Hogwarts' beloved Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor. It is with great pleasure that I received your invitation to this meeting. What can I do to solve your problem?" He stopped at the foot of the table, looking across at Mr. Malfoy seated at the head.
Mr. Malfoy launched directly into the matter after a sweeping look across the other Board members. "As I told you all earlier today, this Professor, Gilderoy Lockhart, is entirely unsuited to teach at this prestigious school. He is only interested in increasing the gold in his pockets by selling books. You only have to look at how he has made all seven years of D.A.D.A. students buy all his published works. How can the same books be of use to all seven years of students? I call for a vote to have the Headmaster remove him!"
Lockhart pretended to be startled, "My goodness, Lucius, I thought we were friends! Why, we had tea together just Thursday and you seemed quite happy with my performance as a Professor then. Whatever could have happened to bring about such a drastic change?"
"You do not have my permission to use my first name, Mr. Lockhart," he said frostily.
"Oh, come, come, Lucius. You were quite pleased to grant me that permission earlier this week. Have you forgotten that as well?" He paused a moment staring at the other Wizard.
"No, I haven't forgotten! I take it back! You accused my son of trying to kill Harry Potter!" Lucius was barely in control of himself.
"Ah," said Gilderoy, "I understand. You're referring to how your house-elf attempted to murder Mr. Potter, aren't you?"
Malfoy stared at him murderously, "I have no idea what that idiot creature was up to, nor does my son know." The other Board members were watching with surprised and shocked expressions.
"But Lucius, that house-elf — Dobby, I believe his name is — freely admitted that he cursed that bludger to try to hit the boy in the head. The house-elf claims he was trying to save Mr. Potter by injuring him. Clearly, the poor creature is not right in the head."
"He certainly is not right in the head! I have no idea why he was after Harry Potter."
Lockhart stared at the angry Wizard. "I think that might be what's really at issue here."
"WHAT!"
"Have you explained how Hogwarts' most famous student," said Gilderoy, "Mr. Harry Potter, sole Heir of the Ancient and Noble House Potter, was almost killed by a rogue bludger yesterday? That I spent the night guarding him in the Hospital Wing and caught the one responsible for cursing the bludger to chase him? It was I, the world-renowned adventurer, Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award, and Hogwarts' beloved Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor who turned the miscreant over to the Aurors!
"That it didn't kill Mr. Potter during the game yesterday was due only to the boy's exceptional flying skills. No fewer than four times did it barely miss smashing his head to paste! But Dobby was your house-elf! How can you say you don't know what the creature was doing? House-elves cannot do anything without permission, we all know that!"
He ploughed on, over the sputtering objections of the other Wizard.
"So we are left with only three possibilities. One, you ordered Dobby to kill Mr. Potter and then told Dobby to lie about it. Two, your son gave those orders, either at your behest or by himself. Or, three, the house-elf is insane."
Malfoy was in a towering rage, his face red and his hands trembling. "How dare you!" he said softly.
"The first two possibilities you categorically deny, but they still need to be stated lest we overlook something!" Gilderoy said in a condescending tone, as if stating an obvious and simple fact.
"By Merlin, YES, I DO DENY!" shouted the Wizard.
"Which means that you had in your possession for months, if not years, an insane house-elf, and you never noticed?"
Malfoy stared at him his fingers twitching towards his wand.
"How could you not notice your house-elf was insane? You are the Lord of your House! You should have noticed! It is your job to notice." The professor paused and posed dramatically, making a fist with his index finger extended and touching his temple. "Unless you couldn't," he said carefully. He dropped his hand to his side.
"I remember reading that you were an unwilling accomplice to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, eleven years ago."
Malfoy was confused at the change of subject, but still enraged. "I was imperiused, you dandified fool," he said vehemently.
"I also heard that you were crucioed several times by Him as punishments for attempting to disobey Him."
Glaring, the other Wizard merely nodded angrily.
"And brutally legilimened."
Another angry nod.
"Well, it's well known fact that too much exposure to the imperious, and you said you were under it almost monthly over a period of several years, can lead to mental problems later on in life. Things like being unable to tell reality from fantasy."
Malfoy's eyes began to bulge and his face turned even redder. He definitely was trembling. His colour reminded Harry of Vernon just before he exploded into violence.
"And the crucio, you testified he crucioed you many times for trying to disobey. And a side effect of crucio is difficulty in keeping one's temper, and allowing one's emotions to over-rule their reason.
"And unless a legilimens is performed with extreme care permanent damage to one's psyche can result. And you said HE wasn't one to care about his followers.
"REDUCTO," screamed Malfoy leaping to his feet, his wand appearing in his hand almost instantly.
As fast as Malfoy was, Harry/Gilderoy was faster — and he had been expecting such an action. Even as he dodged to the side, he said loudly, "Expelliarmus-stupefy-incarcerous!" so fast they sounded like one word. The other Wizard was unwanded, unconscious, and bound in ropes before he even realized his wand was leaving his hand. Gilderoy magically caught the Wizard before he could fall to the floor and eased him onto his chair, instead. He applied a light ennervate so the Wizard would wake in ten or so minutes.
The Wizards and Witches around the table barely had time to realize Malfoy had attacked the Professor and the duel was over.
Lockhart, dropped Malfoy's wand on the table and put his left hand on his hip. "Well. That was unexpected. Good thing I'm the best dueller in the country or he might have tagged me." He waved his wand negligently over his shoulder saying, "reparo." The reducto damaged wall fixed itself. "After all, I'm not the Professor of Hogwart's Defense Against the Dark Arts class because of my smile!" he said displaying his gleaming smile.
He glanced around the table at the stunned witnesses. "You all saw that, he attacked me without warning. And while some might view the things I said as a provocation, he is the Lord of an Ancient and Noble House and should have much better control over himself than that. In fact, I'm sure many of you have seen him receive worse provocations and shrug them off. And I wasn't even accusing him of those things, merely pointing out facts that we all know are true about exposure to those Unforgivables."
He sighed. "I feared this might happen when I met with him earlier this week. He seemed edgy, irritable, and changed moods quite quickly. And in August, he actually got into a physical fistfight with Mr. Weasley in Flourish and Blotts Bookstore. Can you imagine? The Lord of an Ancient and Noble House fighting with his hands in the street, rolling around and swinging his fists like a common Muggle thug instead of using his wand as should a proper Wizard!" He shook his head sadly.
"All those imperios, crucios, and legilimens have finally caught up with Mr. Malfoy." He looked back at the others around the table. "As you can see, his desire to have me sacked has nothing to do with my qualifications and all to do with his inability to control his temper amid perceived slights to his family and House. Such a great man to have fallen so far." He shook his head sadly.
Lockhart motioned with his wand and an unoccupied chair slid across the room to the table. He sat, wearily. "My actions late last night were taken in consideration of the safety of all students, not just Mr. Potter. I knew we had someone trying to kill our most famous student — and if he succeeded, he wouldn't stop there. Why should he? If he got away with killing a famous person, why would anyone care if he kills a nobody, he would reason." He leaned back in the chair. "He would next start attacking Muggleborn and poorly connected Half-bloods. Eventually he would attack those Pure-bloods he considered as blood-traitors, just as his former Master did, reasoning that it was for the Greater Good to do so.
"The house-elf is insane because Mr. Malfoy is himself not entirely sane anymore." Several people around the table made noises of disbelief.
He smiled, tiredly, "We all know that house-elves take their magic from their masters. If the master is not entirely sane, then neither is the house-elf, for one is completely dependent on the other.
"I'm sure that neither Mr. Malfoy nor his son, Draco, gave any kind of direct orders to Dobby, their house-elf, regarding Mr. Harry Potter. Unfortunately, house-elves get the intent of their masters through their magic. It's how they know when their master wants them, and in most cases can anticipate their orders depending on what their master is doing. Those of you with house-elves know what I mean — how many times have you called your house-elf for tea, only to have him or her hand it to you already prepared?"
Several of the older Witches nodded in acknowledgement.
"In this case, the damage done to Mr. Malfoy's mind by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was never properly corrected by the skilled Mind Healers at St. Mungos. I imagine he felt too embarrassed at admitting he needed the help of Mind Healers, and just tried to ignore it. Unfortunately, if you fail to fix the physical damage from such attacks, the physical mind slowly deteriorates until suddenly the victim begins acting in a bizarre manner, making wild accusations and claims, and acting out their base impulses instead of acting as rational Wizards."
He sighed. "For example, I do not doubt that later this week he will start to accuse me of robbing him, of swindling him, if he hasn't started already. That I was supposed to take a bribe to reverse some points lost by his son in the House Points system. Never mind that such bribery is against school regulations and for a Governor to act in such a manner is clearly an abuse of his position. And he will claim that I somehow tricked him, instead, and stole hundreds of thousands of galleons from him."
Several members protested that statement, saying that surely he must be exaggerating.
Gilderoy shook his head, "Just wait, it will happen. And remember, his house-elf would have his point of view. Why Mr. Malfoy would want to attack Mr. Potter I can't say for sure. Perhaps he wanted to strike out at his dead Dark Lord for hurting him so much, and Mr. Potter, being associated with the fall of the Dark Lord, became a convenient target — guilty by association. Maybe he was upset at how often Mr. Potter has upstaged and humiliated his son.
"At home in private he raged at the unfairness of it all. And in his unstable mind, he played with the idea of revenge on Mr. Potter. Daydreamed, perhaps, about how he would kill the boy if only he had a chance. Dobby picked that up and acted on it, much as a normal house-elf brings you your tea almost before you ask." He looked up and met their eyes. "No one will ever know for sure.
"In the meantime, out of respect for what Mr. Malfoy has done for Wizarding society over the last ten years, we should keep quiet about what happened in here tonight." Most of the Board members seemed willing to do that, by their expressions. He smiled sadly. "I'm not one to meddle on another's business, but based on Mr. Malfoy's clearly unstable actions today, I would suggest you remove him from the Hogwarts Board of Governors before his erratic actions can have a negative effect on Hogwarts and, by extension, yourselves. Just look at how he has forced you to have two meetings in one day for what is clearly an illogical personal vendetta."
Lockhart rose to his feet. "Thank you so much for allowing me to participate in this meeting. It has been most educational." He bowed and headed to the door, where he stopped and turned to face them. "Oh, by the way, I do have a suggestion for a replacement for Mr. Malfoy — Madam Dowager Longbottom. Her son is here in his second year and I think she would be a good fit for the Board."
He carefully closed the door behind him. He grinned happily; no one had noticed the anger hex he had hit Mr. Malfoy with when he first entered, nor the silent fourth spell, a mild cheering charm, in the stream he had sent at Mr. Malfoy. The Wizard would wake up in just a few minutes, well before the meeting finished. He would not be angry, as everyone would expect, but calm and a little bit pleased with himself. It would wear off in a short amount of time, and the rage would return almost as severe as before. It would be a big 'mood swing' to back up Gilderoy's argument that the Wizard was unstable.
(⊙_⊙)
Monday's dinner appointment with Rita went about as well as Gilderoy expected.
"Rita, my dear," he greeted her expansively, and swept her and her photographer into the private dining room he had rented at The Three Broomsticks. He made sure his teeth sparkled in the light. He had researched her habits and the meal provided was a fancy Sunday Roast (prepared by Dobby).
Rita took one look at the table and turned a jaundiced eye on Lockhart.
"All right, Gilderoy, what's the deal? You wouldn't waste money on a meal like this unless it was something big."
The Professor grinned. He and Rita knew each other, and both considered the other a con artist.
"Rita, you wound me!"
"Uh, huh. And?"
"Sit, sit, we can talk while we eat."
She sat and pulled out her Quik-quotes pen and a parchment.
"Uh uh, Rita. You shan't need that one. This story is juicy enough you shan't have any need to embellish it."
She raised an eyebrow in doubt, but exchanged the Quik-quotes quill for a standard dictation quill.
"Here it is in a nutshell. House Malfoy is going downhill. Fast."
She sat back in her chair and studied him. "What do you have?" she asked flatly.
He gave her the rundown on what had happened Saturday and Sunday morning, concluding, "And here are copies of the memories to back it all up." With a flourish, he began placing a half-a-dozen memory vials on the table. She watched with wide eyes.
The memories were carefully edited versions of the events of Saturday and Sunday, including the Board of Governors meeting. He also included his memories of Dobby stealing his mail and admitting closing Platform Nine-and-three-quarters. They did not contain some of the things he had explained to Harry.
She stared at the vials hungrily.
"I presume The Daily Prophet has a pensieve," he stated.
"Oh, yes," she breathed softly.
She looked up into his eyes.
"There are several things to note in these. First, one thing I did not mention is that Mr. Draco Malfoy and Mr. Ron Weasley appear to have a love/hate relationship. They are always getting into scraps with each other. Although both deny it, they seem to derive satisfaction from their interactions and seem to seek each other out to pursue them. Don't take my word for it, though, ask some of the students. Perhaps Mr. Malfoy sees Mr. Potter as a rival for Mr. Weasley's attentions and sought to remove him from the romantic field, as it were.
"Second, watch Harry's reactions to some of the things mentioned. They do not jibe with what we've been told about him. I wouldn't mention them yet just take note of them.
"By the way, I don't know if you know this, but it is impossible to be imperiused into taking the Dark Mark. You have to want the Mark. Any hesitation and it shan't take. Just as threatening a family member as blackmail won't work. So Mr. Malfoy and the other Death Eaters have been lying through their teeth.
"Perhaps you can get an interview with one of the Azkaban prisoners and give him veritaserum. It shouldn't be that hard. You should be able to get one of them to agree by simply saying they were imperiused and just don't want to admit they are ashamed of what they did for the Dark Lord. You're smart, you can figure an angle that will work.
"Ask how they get the Dark Mark and what they had to do to get it. I guarantee it will turn your stomach."
He started eating and giving her time to mull over what he had told her.
She asked a few more questions, which he readily answered.
At the end of the luncheon, as they were about to leave, he said, "Rita, you do a good job on Mr. Malfoy, if you can get him stripped of most of his influence in the Ministry, I'll guarantee a one-on-one interview with Mr. Potter. If you can get him censured and bounced from the Wizengamot, or, as I like to call it, the Wizenmaggots, I'll make sure his girlfriend is included. No Quik-quotes quills, though!"
"Potter and his girlfriend?" Harry/Gilderoy could see the greed in her eyes at the stories she could do with that!
"Well, I don't think they realize they're an item yet, but it's obvious to everyone else." He looked her in the eyes, "Rita, play nice with Harry and you'll have a steady supply of block-buster stories for years. I guarantee it. And, you'll be able to publish the definitive Harry Potter biography. With authorized photos."
She stared back, and then nodded.
On that note, they left The Three Broomsticks and went their separate ways.
(◎_⊙)
That evening, as Harry Potter was preparing for bed, a parchment and a glass of something appeared on the desk beside his bed.
.
Mr. Potter,
.
While you were in the Hospital Wing, I noticed that you are suffering from malnutrition, due, not doubt, to the neglect of your relatives. For the next several months, every night before you go to bed, a potion will appear on your work desk. Drink it ALL. Sometimes it will be vitamins and nutrients, other times it will be healing potions to correct the damage done to your body. No one except you will shall notice the glass. It is up to you if you wish to disclose this to any of your friends. If you do, I suggest you start with Miss Granger.
.
Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award, and your beloved Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor.
.
Harry sighed heavily and dropped the note to his bed, then jumped slightly as it fell to dust before it hit the bedspread, and then disappeared. He drank the potion. Like most potions, it tasted terrible.