Gilderoy watched as the Hogwarts Express disappeared down the tracks. The students, at least those going home for the holidays, were finally out of his way. He had a busy set of hols ahead, and having constantly to dodge inquisitive children would be problematic. And the staff would be wrapped up in end-of-term paperwork and watching for problems on the train, especially the Headmaster.
By tomorrow, the parents would hear about the Chamber of Secrets monster being a Basilisk. By Wednesday, the word would spread to their friends. They would think their children had exaggerated the situation, but the story would linger as gossip. Christmas would interfere a bit in that dissemination of news, but after Boxing Day, he believed the public would be more receptive to the revelation of his exploits. Yes, it was a perfect plan — the children unknowingly providing the groundwork for his headlines. Next Monday would provide a perfect headline to end the year. Everyone would be talking about Lockhart and the Basilisk at all the New Year's Parties. He expected invitations to many of those parties.
But in the meantime, he had work to do. He returned to the Castle.
"Mr. Potter," he said, catching the boy as he left the Great Hall after a late breakfast. Harry and Hermione, the only ones in Gryffindor staying for the holidays, had slept late, taking advantage of the fact the rest of the students were in a hurry to go home.
Fortunately, Ginny's situation had called for the entire Weasley family to return home for the hols, even Charlie and Bill from overseas. Harry/Gilderoy had insisted, not so subtly, that Arthur take the generous bag of galleons he had forced into Wizard's hands and use it to have the best Christmas they had ever had. "This," he had said, "is merely a down payment on what the school owes you for your daughter's suffering and healing." He paused watching the man's reaction. "Mr. Weasley, if you are hurt on the job, does not the Ministry pay the Healer's bills for you as well as your regular salary even though you cannot work?" The man nodded frowning. "Well, consider this to be the same thing for your daughter. It is not charity, but the least that Hogwarts can do to apologize for the Headmaster's failure to protect your child." Reluctantly, the Weasley patriarch had agreed. So, Ginny, Ron, Fred, George, and Percy were all absent this Christmas.
"Come with me Harry, I have need of your special talents," Gilderoy said.
Harry looked at Hermione, shrugged, and said, "Sure."
"Excellent!" Gilderoy smiled happily. "With your help, we're going to see something that few have ever seen before and lived to tell the tale. Walk this way!" He turned and jauntily started walking. The two children followed him with justifiably worried expressions.
He stopped. "No, Harry," he said, faking exasperation with his hands elegantly on his hips, "Walk this way!" He demonstrated his jaunty confident walk and drilled the poor boy until he had it down right. Hermione watched with wide eyes, her fear of point's loss or a detention all that prevented her from laughing aloud at her friend's predicament, and Professor Lockhart. Gilderoy grinned widely as Harry attempted to stop himself from rolling his eyes at each repetition.
Once Gilderoy was satisfied with Harry's confident appearance, he turned to Hermione. "Now it's your turn, my dear." She stared at him like a deer caught in a Lorry's headlamps. It was Harry's turn to suppress his laughter as the Professor put her through the paces.
He told her, "I once asked my mum why she swayed so as she walked when others didn't. She told me, 'Honey, if your wrist doesn't hit your hip as you walk, you aren't walking right!' So, my dear, let's see you do it right!"
As she took a few steps, he said, "You'll feel horribly self-conscious, at first, thinking you look absolutely ridiculous, but after you make it a habit it will look quite gracious indeed!" He made her practice it for several minutes, walking up and down the corridor. It was difficult, really it was, not to burst out laughing at the two kids as they tried to follow his directions.
Finally, he led them on a circuitous route through the Castle, nattering on about his books and popularity, pausing when they were no longer in sight of paintings, sculptures, or armours. First, he cast a quick detection spell, explaining what it was and how it worked, and then removed all the tracking and listening charms on the two students. Both were suitably outraged at him finding the charms — he didn't mention that one on each of them was his. He not so subtly suggested Hermione learn the detection charms and begin a regular regimen of removing what they found. Second, he cast a disillusionment charm on both and had them follow him to their destination, admonishing them to keep practicing their walks even though none could see them. One wanted the way they walked to be an unconscious habit, didn't one?
When he stopped outside Moaning Myrtle's First Floor Toilets, Gilderoy could almost feel their sudden panic. Was he about to reveal their Polyjuice Potion and demand answers?
He swept inside and halted in front of the very stall in which the cauldron was simmering. Dobby was keeping an eye on it behind the scenes to make sure the potion turned out properly. There was even a supply in Lockhart's office to switch out the contents of the cauldron in case Hermione's potion was substandard. So far, it was nearly perfect.
He dismissed the disillusionment charm and frowned down at them, increasing their obvious agitation. Both Gryffindors were staring at him, pale and wide-eyed, anticipating a severe dressing down.
He smiled at them, and turned to face the sink. "Have you discussed with Moaning Myrtle how she died?" He had hinted enough times during Harry's detentions that they should have managed to do that by now. He would be so disappointed if they hadn't. He watched them from the corners of his eyes as they relaxed ever so slightly.
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Then you know that I'd like you to say 'open' in Parseltongue, right Mr. Potter?"
The boy started sweating and turned to stare at the sink. He wet his lips with his tongue. "Um, I need to see a snake."
"Look closely at the tap," Gilderoy said, "I think you'll see one embossed on it. If that is insufficient, close your eyes and picture a snake in your mind's eye." He tapped the special crystal in his pocket, recording what Harry said. Now that he, as Gilderoy Lockhart, officially couldn't speak or understand Parseltongue, he needed another way to gain entry whenever he wanted in. The recording crystal would hide his Parseltongue ability. That it could record vibrations as well as sound made it perfect for his needs.
Moments later, the sink and wall had moved to reveal the entrance. A rank musty odor wafted out at them.
"This, my dears, is the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets." He looked into the inky blackness of the long tunnel. He pointed his wand inside and said, "SCOURGIFY!" A bright light swept down the pipe before them, leaving a gleaming clean surface. "There now, that's better." He didn't want to get his clothes messed up with that gunk lining the pipe. He pulled three small items out of his pocket and restored them to their normal size — brooms. He handed one to each of them.
"Follow my lead, we're not in a real hurry here. Don't worry about the Basilisk. I, 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 shall ensure you are at all times safe and secure!" He could see them trying to prevent themselves from rolling their eyes. "Besides, I'm sure it's asleep right now." He watched as they got on their brooms, Harry confidently and Hermione gingerly, and slowly followed him into the pipe. He started down, his wand lit with lumos to light their way. "At least, I hope it is," he said loudly before plummeting down. He thought he heard a panicked "Eep!" from Hermione as his Follow-Me spell dragged their brooms behind him.
They didn't travel nearly as fast as he had originally, but still probably too fast for Hermione's comfort considering her anxiety regarding broom-riding. Still, he was rather surprised that it seemed to take as long as it did. He had always assumed his half-panicked slide had distorted his sense of time. Apparently not. He rather thought that there were stairs built into the pipe as he couldn't see Tom taking the inelegant slide every time, but the slide, and riding broomsticks, was so much faster. And fun.
Trying to go down, and back up, over a thousand feet or more of stairs as they led under the lake to the Chamber was not something he would want to do! Not when there was such a fun way to do it instead.
The corridor was just as filthy and disgusting as he remembered. And the smell was enough to knock you over. Three quick Bubble-head charms fixed that problem, though. Hermione and Harry were quite relieved.
For a moment, he considered cleaning the messy floor, but decided it would be better to leave the skeletal debris for the atmosphere it gave their expedition. Yes, he could work with this, "the disturbing crunching of bones under my feet accompanied every step I took as I progressed down the dimly lit tunnel under the lake. Who knew where the dreaded monster was hiding, waiting, perhaps, to kill us without warning." It also would give Bozo a photo opportunity and added a realism to his book that the others lacked.
"Ew, ew, ew," Hermione said when she realized what was crunching with her every step. She looked at the broom in her hand, then the floor, and then hopped back on the broom. Some things were just too gross. Harry followed her lead. Gilderoy considered, then did the same. He'd leave that part out, though. He had the feel of it, but now he didn't want to dirty his robes and shoes with it any more than he had to.
They moved much faster this way and soon came into sight of the tremendous shed snakeskin.
"Blimey!" Harry said in a whisper, awed, after gulping. Hermione just stared, wide-eyed.
"Just think, children, the Basilisk is even bigger than that, now." He savoured the horrified looks they gave him. With them as witnesses, none would be able to gainsay what happened down here. "Never fear, though, for I, 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, will keep you both as safe as if you were in your beds in your dormitories!" From their expressions, he could tell that they dearly wished they were in their dormitories and in their beds — preferably under the covers! They were too scared even to roll their eyes at his ridiculously long self-description. Ah, well, onward!
A minute later, they approached the wall blocking the tunnel. On it, as Harry remembered, were the two entwined snakes with green gems for eyes that seemed to turn to watch their every move.
"Behold," Gilderoy swept his arm dramatically, posing in front of them. "The Chamber of Secrets!" he intoned dramatically.
Harry audibly gulped. A faint whimper came from Hermione.
"There really is nothing to fear, my children," the Wizard said consolingly. "The Basilisk is sleeping and completely harmless at the moment, and I, Gilderoy Lockhart, et cetera, et cetera," he said, "am here to protect you." He turned to Harry. "Now, Harry, listen closely. When I give you this signal," he pointed his right-hand index finger at the boy, "I want you to say 'open' to the snakes embossed on this wall. It will split in the middle and open. I will look inside the Chamber to see if the Basilisk is in his sleeping den or on the floor. If the Basilisk isn't in the Chamber, you and I will walk inside a short ways. When I give this signal," he again pointed at the boy, but this time using his right-hand index and middle fingers spread in a "V", "loudly say, 'Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts four.' Understand?" Hand signals would prevent them from noticing his voice wavering when it came to action time.
Harry licked his lips, and nodded nervously.
"Give it a practice try, Harry."
He did.
"Then turn and walk quickly back to here and close the wall. You and Hermione wait out here until I yell to open the doors, and then you can open them again by saying 'open,' okay?"
The boy reluctantly nodded again.
Gilderoy made him repeat the summoning phrase several times until he said it perfectly.
"Finally — listen carefully, both of you — if I don't signal you to open the doors in a reasonable amount of time, say ten minutes, go get the Headmaster!"
After exchanging a look, they both nodded fearfully.
"Excellent." Gilderoy pulled out the glasses he had made. He had taken four right-angle prisms, each long enough to stretch from the tip of his thumb to the tip of his little finger when he spread his fingers as wide as possible, and arranged the prisms into a double periscope, one reversing the other.
If seeing a single reflection reduced the death glare of the Basilisk to mere petrification, then using four reflections should make it completely harmless. The first prism reflected up to the second, the second reflected to the third, the third reflected back down to the fourth, which reflected into his eyes. He used magic to shape the four into a pair of wrap-around glasses only an eighth of an inch thick. The glasses looked somewhat odd with the top two prisms completely hiding his eyebrows, but they worked just fine. As an additional protection, the prisms only reflected red light and infrared (also known as heat). Everything else they ignored, meaning he never saw anything but reflected heat rays, and red light, converted up to normal eyesight range.
Muggle scientists had discovered, Gilderoy knew, that the higher frequency you went in light, the more damage it did to you, hence why people used sunscreen at the beach to protect themselves from ultraviolet (beyond blue) sunlight. Gilderoy assumed that the Basilisk's deadly vision was the same sort of situation. At a worst case, only the reflections would protect him. He hoped.
They had taken some getting used to, everything was shades of red, but they worked. That was all that mattered. Whether they worked the way he wanted them to, though, was another thing entirely.
He put them on and took a deep breath. It was show time, but a very different kind than normal. He pointed his finger at Harry.
Harry hissed at the wall.
He recorded the boy's command on another crystal. If the wall was soundproof he didn't want to be trapped inside!
The wall split and slowly slid open, accompanied by the sound of stone sliding across stone, the floor shuddering slightly. As it did, Gilderoy motioned the two frightened students to move against the sidewall as the one in front of them moved. They could not see into the Chamber. He, on the other hand, looked carefully inside as the wall opened.
He was standing at the end of a very long, dimly lit chamber. Towering stone pillars entwined with carved serpents rose to support a ceiling lost in darkness, casting long, black shadows through the odd, greenish gloom that filled the place. There was no sign of the snake. The Chamber was just as it had appeared in his time.
He walked cautiously forward between the serpentine columns. Every careful footstep echoed loudly off the shadowy walls. The hollow eye sockets of the stone snakes seemed to be following him. He could hear water droplets splashing to the floor, eerily echoing. It was just as spooky as he remembered it being. "This . . . this is splendid! Even better then I remembered," Gilderoy whispered to himself.
At the last pair of pillars, a statue as high as the Chamber itself loomed into view, standing against the back wall. Salazar, when Gilderoy tilted his head back, was just as ugly as he remembered: a face that was ancient and monkeyish, with a long, thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of the wizard's sweeping stone robes, where two enormous grey feet stood on the smooth Chamber floor. Rather full of himself, he had been, Gilderoy thought. And he could appreciate that! He considered how imposing such a statue would appear in the entry hall of his Mansion.
The Wizard turned and headed back to the kids. "Okay, Harry, Hermione, it's safe to come in," he called out.
The two peered around the protruding bump that marked the retracted wall.
He waved them inside, smiling broadly and exuding confidence. "Come, come, look!"
With no small amount of awe, the two students carefully crept into the Chamber.
"Note the pillars and how the snakes' creepy eyes seem to follow you as you walk," he said.
The two huddled together as they joined him.
"Come, come, see this," he said, acting like a tour guide in London, "Walk this way." He suppressed the urge to sway his hips and adopt a mincing walk — they were too scared to appreciate the comedic aspects of his request at this point.
"That," he said as the came to the end of the columns, "is Salazar Slytherin. Not exactly a stunningly handsome fellow, wouldn't you agree?" Gilderoy shook his head. "He definitely should have used a few beauty charms before posing for that monstrosity!" And he would mention those charms in his book, too!
They stared around in surprise, gradually separating and examining the columns closer.
"Okay, my dears," Gilderoy said joyfully. "This is what we're going to do. Hermione, please go back to the hall outside the doors." He handed her an opaque scarf. "Put this over your eyes when you get there and face the wall." He turned to other Gryffindor. "Harry, I want you to wait with me and when I give you the second signal, say 'Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts four,' just as you practiced. Okay, off with you Hermione." He made little shooing motions with his hands. She took off at a fast walk. Gilderoy guided Harry as the two followed behind her about one-third of the way back and then stopped.
"Okay, Harry," Gilderoy crouched down to be at eye-level with the boy. "This is important, Harry. As soon as you say your lines, as loud as you can, I want you to walk — not run, I don't want you to trip in your excitement — and join Hermione. Then close the doors by saying 'close,' in Parseltongue. Remember to think about a snake when you say it. Got it?"
Harry, wide-eyed, nodded.
Gilderoy smiled at him, "Okay Harry. Take a deep breath, let it out, and . . . ."
Harry did as told, Gilderoy checked that Hermione wasn't in sight, and then gave him the signal.
Voice quavering slightly, Harry hissed quite loudly as Lockhart again recorded the boy.
"Excellent," Gilderoy exclaimed, "Here's a scarf, now walk!" and gave the boy a nudge.
Harry needed no farther incentive and took off rapidly. For once, he had an adult along who seemed in control of the situation. Unlike his adventures last year!
Meanwhile, Slytherin's gigantic stone face was moving, stone on stone grinding loudly. Gilderoy could feel the floor beneath his feet vibrating slightly at the movement. His mouth was opening wider and wider to make a huge black hole. And something was stirring inside the statue's mouth. Something was slithering up from its depths.
Gilderoy stared, fascinated at the grotesque imagery. It was, actually quite disturbing on a variety of levels. Thank Merlin he had been too scared last time to notice, or the phallic symbolism might have left him scarred for life!
Gilderoy licked his lips. This was the nasty part, this was the part that was risky. He watched through the glasses as the snake came out of that hole. Behind him, the Wizard could hear the stonewall slowly closing, adding its slight vibrations to the floor. Good, the kids were safe.
If everything went completely pear-shaped, he was prepared. The parchment on his office desk had detailed instructions on the locations of the remaining horcruxes as well as how to destroy them. The Basilisk venom enhanced Goblin knife weighted it down. Dobby had strict instructions to take both to Madam Bones should Lockhart die, and to keep Harry and Hermione safe no matter what.
There would be no wandering in the wilderness while thousands died as someone fruitlessly searched for the vile things.
Similarly, unless he contacted them, the letter with Fleecem, Cheatem, and Beatem would be mailed to Madam Bones in two days detailing the who, what, where, when, and why of Scabbers and Peter Pettigrew. And the solicitors would begin the proceeding for freeing Sirius.
The floor shook as the massive snake hit it.
The Basilisk's eyes glittered and Gilderoy felt a shock as they focused on him. He tried not to look directly at the creatures eyes, despite his glasses. The creature hissed like the Hogwarts Express getting ready to leave. He thought he had remembered the snake being big, but holy mother of pearl, that thing was stonking! Time to leg it.
He reached into his pocket, pulled out a block of wood and dropped it on the ground. As soon as it left his hand, he shot his wand out of its holster and grabbed it. He shouted, "Finite Incantatem," while pointing at the block, now several steps behind him as he ran down the chamber towards the closed wall.
"Squawk!" cried the surprised rooster that appeared.
Okay, now crow damn you! Harry thought. The vendor had guaranteed that the roosters would crow. They had certainly been making enough noise in the stall!
Before the rooster could do that though, the bloody damn snake slid across it, not even noticing as it crushed the bird to paste.
"Bloody hell!"
Harry darted over to the columns as the snake quickly followed.
Thank Merlin Harry had decided to get more than just one rooster! The Wizard pulled out second block and dropped it. Again, he finited it, releasing another rooster. This one went "Errk?" Only Merlin knew why, but it turned and ran at the Basilisk just as the snake opened its mouth to hiss. The snake snapped its mouth shut in reflex on feeling something hit its tongue.
Harry stared, "Oh, come on!" He ran down the columns. The snake was close on his heels. He began weaving in and out of the columns. He wanted to confuse the beast. It didn't confuse easily, unfortunately. It did slow it down some as it wound its way around the columns.
He stopped between two columns. He was temporarily out of the snake's sight. He pulled out a third block. He dropped it as he nervously moved away. The snake should appear any second. He cast a finite. This had better work, he did not have an unlimited number of roosters!
The rooster appeared and peered around quietly, giving a soft, "murr?"
The Basilisk's head slid around the column.
"SQUAWK!" The rooster had fine instincts and lousy planning. It flapped its wings desperately, going for altitude.
The snake opened its mouth to strike at Harry. The bird flew straight in its mouth.
"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" The wizard dodged around the column and ran. He reached the front of the Chamber and ran out of columns. He crossed the chamber, firing a reducto at the snake to discourage it. It didn't even bother to dodge, although it flinched slightly.
He pulled out his fourth block. He dropped it as he hid behind a pillar. This rooster just stared at him, blinking.
Gilderoy fired another reducto at the snake's eye's. It pulled back, flinching as the spell bounced off the armour between the eyes. Gilderoy took off down the pillar row, in the opposite direction. He glanced back just in time to see a small rain of rocks land on his rooster. His reducto had bounced off the snake. It had hit the ceiling, knocking loose three or four stone of rocks.
He swore vociferously. Harry pulled out another block, and finite'd it. He dodged around the pillars and started weaving through them again. He came around one just as the snake came around the other. The rooster saw it for the first time. It swayed a moment, and then fell over stiffly.
"Arrgh!" screamed Harry in frustration. The bloody damn rooster had either fainted or had a heart attack, probably the latter. He took off running again.
He pulled out his last block, and cast another finite. Merlin, he had thought he was being ridiculously pessimistic when he had bought six roosters, but still! This time he held on to the block as it became a rooster. He stared at it as it stared at him. "Well, come on you bloody bird, crow."
"Errk?"
"Crow, damn you!"
"Squawk!"
"CROW, DAMN YOU OR YOU'RE DINNER!"
He dropped the bird and pointed his wand at it.
It looked at him reproachfully, shook its wings, stretched its neck, and went "Cock-a-doodle-do!"
The Basilisk hissed like a steam locomotive, again.
The rooster jumped three feet into the air. It hit the ground running at a speed that would have done a Roadrunner proud. It disappeared down the columns.
"Come back here you coward!" yelled Harry. "Bloody damned bird." He stared after it. "Well, shite." He put his fists on his hips. "That was my last rooster, too. And conjured roosters just won't do."
A noise from above drew his attention.
"SHITE!" He practically threw himself after the bird as the Basilisk's head lunged down at him.
He couldn't run across the Chamber, that snake's bloody long tail still blocked the Chamber centre. He dodged left as the snake went right. The Wizard managed to double-back on the snake, confusing it for a moment when he didn't appear around the next column as expected.
He took a deep breath, "Fawkes!" he cried out. "I could use a little help here!" Nothing happened except the snake moving closer as it followed the vibrations of his voice. Harry ran down the long Chamber. He darted across to the other side, the snake's head turning to follow him, its body's coils still around the pillars slowing it down. "Fawkes! Bring me the Sorting Hat!" His voice cracked on the last word.
Still nothing. He ran back up the Chamber on the other side of the pillars. His lungs were beginning to burn with the effort. He swore to himself he would double his exercise regimen. He would need far more stamina in the coming years. Of course, the stamina would come in handy with the witches, too. That would make it easier to keep it up — pun intended, he thought to himself. He had to end this soon, he could feel his hair getting sweaty and stringy, his clothes beginning to stick to him uncomfortably and ruining their perfect custom-tailored appearance.
The Basilisk followed him. He resumed weaving back and forth between the columns. That forced the massive snake to slow down as it manoeuvred behind him. "Fawkes! I need the Sorting Hat!" He was getting a bit desperate.
Okay, maybe he would have to go to Plan C. Bloody hell, what was Plan C? Talk to the bloody damn snake? It hadn't even paused before attacking! Then he heard the faint sounds of music. Finally!
Moments later the Phoenix swooped down to Harry. It dropped the Sorting Hat on the floor as it landed on a stone snake on a nearby pillar. The Wizard scooped up the hat and ran down the Chamber. He jammed the Hat on his head thinking furiously "Sword! I need a Sword! To save the School I need a Sword!" He had no other thoughts. Gilderoy had vanished, terrified into hiding as deep into Harry's psyche as he could get.
Even though he knew it was going to happen, the thump as something very heavy and metallic hit his head almost made him see stars. "Bloody hell, Hat, couldn't you make it a bit lighter!" He stumbled as he yanked the Hat off his head, and pulled the Sword of Gryffindor out. He shoved the Hat in a pocket.
The distraction was almost his undoing. The Basilisk had skipped one weave. It almost got him when he came around the next column.
Time to quit fannying around.
He again doubled back, using the snake's coils around the columns to help hide him. The coil was moving around him as the snake pulled more and more of its body out of the weave Harry had tricked it into doing around the columns. He stared at the Sword. Was it going to be like that again? Would he be able to pull it off a second time? He hoped Fawkes was still around.
"Cock-a-doodle-do! Cock-a-doodle-do!" There was a tremendous hissing. "Cock-a-doodle-do! Cock-a-doodle-do!" There was by a THUD and the floor shook. Only his laboured breathing and the sound of dripping water broke the silence.
Harry almost collapsed in shock. "Oh thank Merlin!"
He slowly made his way to the wall, taking only a moment to look at the Basilisk's head, laying sideways against the columns. Its mouth hung partially open. Its eyes were devoid of the light that had formerly filled them.
"Cock-a-doodle-do!"
YES! The Basilisk was dead. He took off his glasses and stored them in a pocket. He cautiously walked up to its head and examined the fangs. He took the sword and slowly drew it along the closest fang. A thin line of clear venom appeared on the sword and gradually disappeared, soaking into the metal.
He paused a moment, thinking, then grinned. He posed as if he were using the sword to attack the basilisk in a last ditch effort to kill it. He carefully used a banishing charm to drive the sword up through the snake's upper palate and into its brain while he held the grip. He slowly pulled it back out.
He turned and started walking towards the wall.
"Cock-a-doodle-do!"
"Shut it, already!" Gilderoy yelled, "It's dead you stupid cluck!"
In late January, after the revelation of the Chamber of Secrets, he would announce he had "discovered" the Sword, and garner another headline.
"Accio roosters!" He vanished the dead ones, then reduced the live one back to a small block of wood and put it in his pocket. He would make sure it had a nice long relaxing retirement at one of the Potter farms, with lots of hens for company.
He stared at the sword for a moment, then shrugged and kept it out. It would be okay for the kids to see it.
He yelled at the wall, "OKAY, HARRY, OPEN THE WALL!"
He waited a moment. "HARRY, OPEN THE WALL!"
Just as Harry/Gilderoy was about to yell again, there was a grinding noise and the wall slid open.
He smiled, tiredly. That running had taken more out of him than he had thought. "Take a look, children. 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 has done it yet again! One basilisk, King of the Snakes — no longer a danger to anyone. Heh, guess I'll have to add Slayer of Basilisks to my accomplishments, right?"
They walked over and examined the massive snake. Harry and Hermione stared at the dead Basilisk for several moments. He had them turn and look back towards the entrance while he struck a heroic pose behind them, sword prominently held up in triumph. Hermione cleared her throat. "Maybe we should go back, Professor. You look tired."
Gilderoy looked at her. "You're a good Witch, Hermione. Harry is lucky to have you by his side. I had as loyal a friend when I was at Hogwarts, I couldn't have survived without her. I lost her in the war." For a moment, the tears almost overcame him. He drew a shuddering breath and struggled for composure. His close encounter with death, Gilderoy's real first, had shaken him more than he had expected. He would pretend the two didn't notice his shaky voice and slightly trembling arms.
He reached into a pocket and pulled out a silk bag. He opened it and slid the Sword of Gryffindor inside. Gotta love those undetectable expansion charms.
He looked at the Wizard. "Harry, if you know what's good for you, don't let Hermione get away. You'll regret it for the rest of your life if you do."
He shepherded them out of the Chamber. "Come, let's go back upstairs. I wanted to get this done while there weren't any students in school who might have been hurt if things had gone wonky. I'll deal with this tomorrow. Please keep it a secret until I say it's safe to talk about. Okay? There are many things that have to be done first before we can tell anyone."
He used magic to put a small stone sill the width of the Chamber opening, preventing the wall from closing it off from the tunnel. The ride back up the pipe to Myrtle's toilets took much longer than the ride down. Once they reached the top, Gilderoy had Harry close the opening, recording the command as he did so. A Notice-Me-Not on it would help prevent anyone from experimenting with the broken tap. Myrtle's toilets would become a major tourist attraction at Hogwarts this summer, and in the future, and this would prevent any but those he desired from finding the Chamber of Secrets before then.
Another Notice-Me-Not on the door to the toilets provided additional temporary protection for the secret.
"Thank you for your help. Both of you. Harry, Hermione, we'll need to come up with a suitably exciting story for our fans. Okay? If we make it look too easy, they won't believe we really did anything special. Think about it tonight, all right?"
Gilderoy left the two and made his way to his rooms. He planned to kip until suppertime. And notify his solicitors that they needn't send that missive to Madam Bones. The sword he would keep in his trunk until later.
(◎_⊙)
"Rita," he exclaimed, as he entered The Three Broomsticks' front door and made his way to the table where she waited. "How are you this fine Tuesday morning? Are you ready for another scoop the like of which you have never seen?"
She watched him approach with narrowed eyes. "Scoop?"
"Yes. You know the story behind the lost Chamber of Secrets and its monster, do you not?" He had warned her to do a bit of research on the subject, but to hold her silence until he contacted her again.
She nodded.
"Well, how would you like to see the dead monster?" Does a kid want candy?
The rest of the meeting went fabulously, as far as Gilderoy was concerned.
While Harry hadn't really wanted any exposure, Gilderoy had convinced him that this was the best way to handle the situation, getting word of Harry's Parseltongue abilities out to the Wizarding public in the most positive way possible. The boy, after much prodding by Gilderoy, had even provided a memory of their experiences from the toilets to the entrance wall. The picture of the three posed in front of the Basilisk's head with the body stretching off to the side guaranteed a sell-out issue!
Harry/Gilderoy was pretty sure that Rita was almost orgasmic at recording the story of how The-Boy-Who-Lived had helped the illustrious Lockhart confront and destroy the great beast terrorizing Hogwarts' students and staff. The exact details of the battle, of course, were going to be divulged in his forthcoming book — Burrowing with a Basilisk.
He had convinced Rita that the best time to release the story was Monday, after Christmas, the holiday parties would be over and nothing would be planned until New Year's Day, giving them a fantastic five-day window to milk the story for all it was worth. Monday to place a teaser with a picture of the Chamber of Secrets closed wall and a giant question-mark beside the two embossed snakes and describing the Chamber's history, including Myrtle's death and Hagrid's expulsion. Tuesday to mention Potter's significant part with a picture of them in front of the entrance wall describing how they got to that point. Wednesday for the story inside the chamber, suitably exaggerated. Thursday for more pictures of the snake and chamber, and Friday for reactions. As for this week? They could run special advertisements regarding a breaking story at Hogwarts that would rock the Wizarding world on its heels.
And the stories would have many questions on why the Great Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was unable to solve the puzzle over the last fifty years when Gilderoy had figured it out so quickly. "I know I'm extremely clever, all you have to do is read my published works about my exploits. However, I find it difficult to believe that I am that much smarter than the Headmaster, who has had fifty years to research the question," Gilderoy said. "And my D.A.D.A defence classes all figured it out in less than two months!" Which really made the Headmaster look bad. And make the readers ask, 'just how safe is Hogwarts, anyway?'
Dumbledore would be in deep shite over that. If he admitted that he knew what the creature was and the entrance's location, then why hadn't he sealed it off to protect the children, at the very least? If he said he didn't know the nature of the creature or the location of the entrance, he looked incompetent! Dumbledore's stock of goodwill with the Wizarding public would continue to drop, especially among the parents of students. No matter what he said, his reputation suffered.
Yes, it was a good plan. And with the good Headmaster currently wrapped up in politicking with his friends in the Wizenmaggots and dealing with the ongoing power-vacuum Malfoy's demise had created, he wouldn't notice the Goblins rendering a rather large Basilisk into its components.
After Rita and Bozo left Hogwarts and the Chamber of Secrets to work on their story, and with Harry and Hermione off on their own pursuits, Gilderoy sauntered up Diagon Alley at midmorning to Gringotts, nodding to his many fans, basking in the glory that was his due. All the attention still made Harry nervous, of course, but not nearly as much as it used to. He knew and understood that he would never be "just another face in the crowd." On the other hand, it was nice to know that so many people cared about him. Yeah, that could change quickly, but as long as he took the right measures in advance, it would never happen. He had to pace himself and the revelations he made — not too much too fast. And this year was turning into quite the goldmine of breaking news stories that featured him!
His future security was well and truly assured by things that he had done this year, that were his accomplishments, and not life stories stolen from others. In that vein, Fleecem, Cheatem, and Beatem had started approaching all the people he had wronged and begun setting things right. The villager who had provided the basis for Wanderings with Werewolves found himself the recipient of a "lost" cousin's bequest that significantly improved his home and life, providing a solid old-age security that had been noticeably lacking. He was the richest person in his village and would never again know want. He also received a modest sack of galleons from Lockhart thanking him for his assistance in tracking down the Werewolf. The man would have nothing to say but praise for Lockhart when someone finally tracked him down and asked some questions.
The woman who had inspired Holidays with Hags had a similar bequest, including providing for schooling for her children, and grandchildren, to either Hogwarts or university, whichever was applicable. And a sack of Galleons, as well as a personally autographed complete set of Lockhart's books.
Gilderoy could easily retire the rest of his debts to those he had harmed with only a small portion of the funds looted from the Malfoys. His next two books, Burrowing with a Basilisk and Restraining a Rat, would be best-sellers and easily replace those funds. And push him up the list into the top five richest Wizards in England.
And the revenue from the Basilisk ingredients would only add to his wealth and prestige.
As he entered the bank, a Goblin looked up from his desk and made a motion to another. Before Gilderoy could even get to a counter a Goblin came up to him. "Mr. Lockhart," he said, before turning on his heel and briskly leading the Wizard through a door at the back of the bank and to a small room. "Would you like tea?" the Goblin asked cordially.
"Ah, yes, please."
Harry/Gilderoy looked around. Instead of a sparse stone room, this one was richly appointed in wood with animals-skin rugs underneath well-crafted tables and chairs. His last visit, while nice, hadn't been nearly as pleasant. The Goblins had kept to their reputation as insulting and touchy little bastards that time. But this?
Interesting how simply having ten or so tons of galleons changed their attitude. Or was it the sneaky and underhanded way he had acquired those galleons? It was difficult to tell which they respected more.
He had no sooner sat than a Goblin hurried in with a tray and set the table beside Harry/Gilderoy with cups, kettle, and a plate of biscuits.
Definitely not your ordinary Goblin approach to business.
The Goblin hadn't even reached the door to leave before another came in.
"Mr. Lockhart," said the Goblin as he came over. "I am Ragnurk, your account manager. What can Gringotts do for you today?"
"Ragnurk, my friend!" — no, he wasn't. No Wizard was a friend to the Goblins, according to them — and he hadn't known he had an account manager. "I need a team of professionals to render a rather large magical animal into potion ingredients."
"What kind, how large?" The Goblin sat and pulled a quill and roll of parchment from his pocket.
Harry squashed the Gilderoy urge to wax poetic. The Goblins preferred to get straight to business, no dilly-dallying around for them.
"A Basilisk. Sixty feet plus. Dead. Killed yesterday morning. Very little damage."
The Goblin stared at him. "A Basilisk." He stared a bit more. "Sixty-foot." He frowned. "How killed?"
Gilderoy beamed happily, "I shan't bore you with the full story, but I finished by giving it a sword thrust through the upper palate of the mouth into the brain."
The Goblin sat back in his chair. "Gringotts does not take kindly to jokesters or pranksters."
"I can provide a memory of the creature if you have a pensieve."
It took less than five minutes to verify his story. Just a short montage of the snake chasing him — no signs of the roosters! — him running with the sword, him pulling the sword out of the snake's mouth, him staring at the dead snake from a distance.
The Goblin stared almost respectfully at Lockhart.
"We can have a team assembled shortly. The split will be fifty-fifty."
Harry laughed delightedly. The haggling was long, but ended with a much better eighty-twenty split. Harry would keep half the skin, three ounces of venom, a quart of blood, five of the teeth (not venom fangs) and a single three-ounce vial of each of the other parts of the snake used in potions. All based on his estimate of sixty feet. Shorter would decrease his portions, longer would not change them. The estimate on the value of the snake at today's prices was well over one million galleons. Wow! That alone, when added to his current balance, made him the richest Wizard in the Kingdom.
By the time they finished, the team was ready and Gilderoy showed them the portkey destination via pensieve. They appeared directly in The Chamber of Secrets.
He left the experts to their job and spent some time talking with Myrtle before heading off to a late dinner. The Goblins had said they should be finished by dawn. The Castle's protective enchantments did not extend to where the Chamber lay under the lake, and thus the Goblins could freely portkey back and forth as they needed during the night.
Gilderoy was a bit surprised that he managed to pull off the operation without any reaction from the Headmaster.
Saying that there was no purpose to having the professors and students so widely separated when there were so few around, the Headmaster had moved the House tables to sides and placed a single round table in the Great Hall yesterday. The students straggled in — there were only six total — and joined Gilderoy, McGonagall, and Flitwick for dinner. Snape was eating in his office, the blue-eyed blonde Wizard presumed. The other professors were either with family or out shopping for presents.
The Wizard was still amazed that no one had noticed either Rita or the Goblins' presence on school grounds. Dumbledore must truly believe in the effectiveness of the school's protective enchantments to keep dangerous creatures, both monsters and human, from the school. How that fit with the Troll and Quirrell-mort last year was an interesting question. Had the Headmaster disabled the protections? If so, that easily explained why he had not noticed Gilderoy's extra-curricular activities. Nor noticed so many of the things that had gone wrong in Harry's previous life.
And proved the old Wizard had little to no regard for the safety of his students.
So much of what Dumbledore had done left Harry mystified. Was he "testing" Harry? Or was he just so sure of himself that it never occurred to him that he might be wrong? The first was infuriating, the last astoundingly stupid.
Harry still didn't understand why Dumbledore had hired Lockhart. Was the Headmaster so detached from reality that he never realized the Wizard's incompetence? Harry knew that the Headmaster regularly skimmed the minds of his students — surely he had done the same to the prospective D.A.D.A. professor. Or was he more concerned with "outing" Gilderoy as a fraud than he was about the making sure the students received an education?
In either case, the Headmaster was doing a severe disservice to his students, and neglecting his obligations as a Headmaster. Was Dumbledore so caught up in his schemes for "the greater good" that he didn't see the damage he was inflicting on the Wizards and Witches entrusted to his care? Was the old Wizard senile? Stupid? Or did he simply not care about anything except his schemes?
Just as Harry and Hermione were standing to leave, Gilderoy stood as well, saying, "Mr. Potter, you need a new wardrobe. One that befits your status as the Heir to an important House. I can't believe your guardians have allowed you to dress the way you do. It is an affront to the dignity of your parents and Godfather." Harry was dressed in his regular clothes, no school robes during the hols!
Harry and Hermione stared at him in astonishment.
"So, this afternoon, I shall take you to get proper attire." He swept aside their objections, and imperiously led them outside and on to Hogsmeade.
"Sir," Harry tried to object once again, "You don't need to do this."
"Nonsense, my boy, as your Professor it grieves me to no end that you disrespect your parents so much by what you wear."
Harry glared at the professor. Hermione just watched and listened wide-eyed.
"You are the fourth richest Wizard in all of England, and to dress the way you do is simply shameful," the adult stated. Malfoy used to be third until Lockhart had raided his vault so thoroughly. Lockhart was tenth, now, but when the Basilisk paid off he would move Harry to fifth. And he was tenth instead of higher because of the Goblin fees he had agreed to pay in acquiring Malfoy's fortune and properties. Not to mention the galleons spent paying off his former story sources.
The Potters hadn't been that rich in 1991, but ten years of letting their investments grow without any silly chicanery of trying to boost earnings, while making minimal expenditures for upkeep, had seen their fortune grow considerably. Malfoy would have been second, but he had spent considerable sums in bribes over the last decade.
Both kids had stopped and were staring at him in shock, mouths open. Gilderoy turned to face them. "Surely your guardians told you this, Mr. Potter? If your Muggle guardians did not, then your Magical guardian had to have done so. To fail to do so would be the rankest abandonment of his or her duties I can imagine." He stopped and stared at the boy.
"Rich?" Harry managed to squeak out.
"Yes. Of course. The Potter House is a very old line and your mother's investments have only increased your vaults."
"Vaults?" ventured Hermione, swallowing.
Gilderoy adopted a mien of astonishment. "Mr. Potter, we will fix this right now," he said commandingly.
He marched them straight to The Three Broomsticks' floo. Moments later, they were walking into Madam Malkin's. The two students were in a state of shock.
"Good afternoon, Madam," Gilderoy greeted the proprietor. "Mr. Potter, here, needs a full kit, from underwear to dress robes. Assume he lost everything in an accident at school and only has the clothes he is wearing. Which you will burn when we are done."
The surprised Witch stared at them.
"For right now, prepare him one set of dress robes with the Potter House crest on them. We have an important meeting in a few minutes, so time is of the essence. For the young Witch with us, do the same," Gilderoy continued.
Hermione was staring at him her mouth open in surprise. "Me?" She squeaked out.
"She doesn't have a House, she is a Muggle-born, so put the Potter House crest on her robes as her protector." He reached into his robes and pulled out a small bag. He set it on the counter and pulled out a wallet, removing a small card from it and handing it to the shopkeeper. "Put everything on this," he concluded.
She stared at the card, swallowed, then curtsied. "Immediately, Mr. Lockhart." She turned and called to another clerk, "Miss Watson, call in Miss Likitt and Miss Softbottom, then help me here." She turned to Harry, "Please stand here, sir," she said, pointing at a fitting platform. "And if you would stand there, Miss," she pointed at a second platform. Both children protested but complied when they saw that their professor would not be deterred.
Mrs. Malkin tisk-tisked when she saw the shabby clothes Harry was wearing, and he blushed, embarrassed. Gilderoy could see that Hermione was surprised at just how shoddy the boy's clothes were. In a remarkably short time, both were wearing new black semi-formal robes.
"Excellent!" declared Gilderoy. "Purchase an apartment trunk for each of them; bedroom, kitchen with dining nook, bathroom, closet, and second room with a library. Make sure they are self-shrinking and restoring, with featherweight charm and the Hogwarts' multi-person lockout feature."
He faced the two students, who were bewildered by what was happening. "That means, only one person can be in the trunk at a time while the trunk is at Hogwarts. I know, I know," he said smiling, waving his hands in front of himself in a placating manner, "It ruins your fun — no private snogging — you'll have to still rely on Hogwarts' broom closets." He laughed jovially.
Hermione squeaked again. Harry looked stunned.
He turned his attention back to Madam Malkin. "Now, then, Madam," he said while staring at Harry, "Mr. Potter has lovely green eyes, so I think wearing plum and purple, will make them appear more vibrant. Any shade from rich true purple to misty lavender will work well. Also, a deep wine colour, red-based claret or true burgundy would work. The blue and red undertones in those colours will bring attention to his green eyes." The witch was taking notes.
"I would suggest a range of greens. Green hues intensify the colour of his eyes. Sage, olive, mossy green or dark bottle green to add depth to his eye colour. I think we would like the effect of pear or any green with a slightly yellow base or a clear grassy green." Both students were in listening, blinking, never realizing that one had to be very good at colour coordinating when one is always in the eyes of the public. It had taken Gilderoy years of study to understand how to put it all together. True, he had concentrated on his own needs, but he had to understand how the other colours related to each other as well.
"Basic black always has its place," he continued, "and Mr. Potter's green eyes will positively glow with classic black. Navy is an equally flattering neutral colour, but we want to stay away from washed-out blues and bland beiges." He stared a bit more at the boy, before nodding. "Yes, I think that's what we should go with. His hair, being black, shan't affect those choices." He looked at the woman. "I expect a dozen pre-arranged sets each for summer, fall, winter, and spring." He smiled widely. "He's a boy, no colour coordination sense at all, you know." The shopkeeper nodded while writing.
He turned to face Hermione. She stared back and swallowed, worried about what he would say about her.
"Blue hues — from blueberry and navy to robin's egg and turquoise," he said. "They are complementary to her brown eyes and hair. Don't be timid, jewel-toned cobalts and soft denim colours — the blues will make her eyes stand out as the focus of her face. Get her several blue-jeans in those colours — if you don't know what blue-jeans are, ask a Muggle-born."
"Also, true reds and warm oranges will complement her dark eyes. As will light greens and clear yellows. Medium pinks and lighter blush colours would be extremely flattering, too. A pastel palette is always a pretty contrast to brown eyes." He stopped a moment to consider.
"Black is not a good option. I think cinnamon or a rich taupe, instead. Those neutrals are wardrobe basics paired with other flattering colours. No dark browns, choose creamier colours reminiscent of coffee with a generous dash of milk. Khaki colours would work, as will olives and mossy greens. White is always flattering and will make her eyes appear even darker in contrast, include a dozen blouses and dresses. Warm gold puts sparkle in brown eyes and is always an excellent choice, I believe.
"Lighten up the purple tones and opt for a misty lavender, plum or soft raspberry, I think. A reddish orange is a bold choice — softer versions such as warm peach or apricot would be good as well.
"They are a cute couple, so please try to coordinate their colours with each other." This time Hermione merely bushed.
He sighed. This was going to be an expensive shopping expedition. "Just provide the basics on the underwear. I'm sure Miss Granger would like to make her own choices in cut and style to please her Wizard." The Wizard and Witch in question both pinked in embarrassment, with Hermione's face moving more to bright red.
"She'll also need a dozen sets of slacks, skirts, blouses, and dresses, for each season as well. Arrange them as sets." The saleswitch gave a quick, "uh huh," of understanding as she continued her notes. "Add permanent growth adjustment, cleanliness, and water-resistant runes to everything," he added. "You shouldn't need to replace these for a decade, at least," he said to the two students.
"When everything is complete, put it in the trunks and owl them back to Hogwarts."
Dressed in brand new clothes and semi-dress robes for the first time he could remember, Harry looked slightly uncomfortable as they headed for Gringotts. Hermione looked splendid in her new robes, as well.
"Don't worry, Mr. Potter. You can easily repay me for these purchases at a later date," he said consolingly. "Miss Granger, as Mr. Potter's protectorate, it is within his responsibilities to ensure you are properly attired and equipped at all times. These purchases fall within that purview." She looked as if she were about to object. "Miss Granger," he stopped in the street, flicked his wand to erect a muffling enchantment, and addressed her directly. "This is not a game. You are a Muggle-born and many consider you a third-class citizen, at best, and barely one-step above magical beasts. That crest on your robes tells them that if they do not treat you as a Pure-blood, they will offend Potter House and will have to defend themselves accordingly. The smart ones will notice and act accordingly. The stupid ones will end up in court at best, or dead at worst." He smirked and looked over at the entrance to Gringotts. "And I think you will find that there are other perks to it as well." He looked at her, smiling. She had never seen such fine robes before.
He was so used to the way his Hermione looked that he hadn't really looked at the thirteen-year old Witch in front of him. Her teeth. He had forgotten about her teeth. Her front teeth were longer than the rest and even with her mouth closed you could see the front two sticking over her lip in a slight over-bite.
He sighed and pulled out his wand. He crouched in front of her. "Go like this," he bared his teeth at her in a parody of a smile.
Uncertainly, she did as he asked.
He ordered, "Don't move!" And cast a quick charm.
Her eyes grew wide as she felt her teeth move. After only a few seconds, he had perfectly aligned her teeth.
"Don't move," he repeated as he cast a second spell giving her a smile as beautiful as his own, removing their minor imperfections and making them as white as Muggle writing paper. He didn't add the sparkle charm he normally used, but now the little witch had a physically perfect smile.
"There now, you have a beautiful smile," he said standing back up. "We'll fix your hair another time. I don't know why your parents didn't fix those teeth ages ago. Such a simple thing to achieve such splendid results. You should look up cosmetic charms in the library, such simple things yet they yield such dramatic results."
He cancelled the spell around them and headed to the bank. Hermione had a very introspective look on her face as they walked. And she kept running her tongue over her teeth.
Again, as they cleared the doors, a Goblin hurried over to Lockhart and bowed before leading them through a door at the back and to an office. Like last time, the room had chairs, a table, and credenza against a wall with a chair nearby. This time there was already a tea set in place. They settled themselves, the kids looking uncomfortable.
"Mr. Potter, Miss Granger," Gilderoy said. "Always, always, be polite to Goblins. They will never acknowledge it, they will never reciprocate it, but it does make a difference in their attitude. They do not believe in small talk. Always, always, get right to the point. I made mistakes years in the past and I am still recovering from them. Observe and learn. Do not pretend to know something, admit your ignorance where necessary."
Hermione and Harry nodded their understanding.
At that moment, two Goblins came in at the same. The first was Ragnurk, Gilderoy's account manager and the second was a flunky carrying a plate of biscuits.
"Ah, Ragnurk! A pleasure to see you." Gilderoy stood and bowed. "I have a couple of problems for you."
The Goblin grunted and sat in the chair behind the desk. Gilderoy resumed his seat.
"First," he waved at the boy, "Mr. Potter's guardian has never told him anything of Potter House, his responsibilities, or his vaults at this fine establishment. He has never received any communications from Gringotts, nor has his guardian sent any on to him. I suspect his owls have been intercepted or redirected. He would also like to file his Will." Gilderoy sat back to wait for the fireworks.
He was not disappointed. While he did not speak the language, it was still quite easy to pick out the profanity that poured forth. Both children listened in wide-eyed amazement, and not a little fright.
The Goblin screamed something and the door to the room popped open. They didn't understand what he said, but the door closed quickly. The Goblin started writing furiously on a parchment he had removed from the credenza. When he finished, he snapped his fingers and the parchment disappeared.
Gilderoy said, "Second, Miss Granger, here," he indicated her by nodding in her direction, "needs to have a Heritage Search. I think she may have an ancestor's Vault."
Ragnurk stared at the two of them a moment, then smiled, a rather gruesome sight considering the number of sharp pointy teeth he revealed. He pulled out a small parchment and wrote something on it. He snapped his fingers and it, too, was on its way.
Moments later an elderly Goblin came in carrying a rather large book and several files.
"Gutslasher is the Potter House account manager," the Ragnurk. He pointed his chin at the boy. "That is Mr. Potter. He has never received any of our communications, nor does he know anything of his estate."
This engendered a goodly bit more of Goblin swearing. Gilderoy leaned over to Harry and quietly said, out of the corner of his mouth, "I hope you're taking notes."
The boy gave him a startled look that slowly slid into a shy smile.
Once the profanity stopped, Gilderoy said to Harry and Hermione, "The Goblins will do a paternity test, first, to confirm that Mr. Potter is truly the son of James and Lily Potter." Gutslasher pulled a parchment from one of the folders, after he set everything on the table, and muttered a few words over it.
"Mr. Potter," Gilderoy said as the Goblin was working. "You will need to sign your name on this parchment using a 'Blood Quill.' It will draw blood from your hand as you write. It will sting slightly, but that is all. Blood Quills are restricted to use by Goblins and with certain Wizarding contracts."
Hermione watched closely as the little Wizard took the proffered quill from Ragnurk and carefully wrote his full name, Harry James Potter. The boy did well, barely winching at the sting in his hand as he wrote. No sooner did he finish than the names of his parents, James and Lily appeared, followed by his grandparents, Fleamont and Euphemia Potter on one side and Graham and Denise Evans on the other.
The elderly Goblin looked at the parchment, nodded, and added it to a folder tucked inside the enormous book he was carrying. Ragnurk took another parchment out, wrote something, and snapped his fingers to send it away.
Gilderoy quickly spoke up, "Gutslasher, given that Mr. Potter's guardian has failed so spectacularly at preparing him for his position, would it not be appropriate to consider the guardian unfit and to immediately bestow upon Mr. Potter his Lordship so that he might hire his own tutors?"
Both Goblins looked at the Wizard.
He shrugged, "Gross negligence at the least, outright Line Theft at the worst."
They studied him a moment, then conferred for a few moments. Finally, they turned back to the three non-Goblins. "Yes," Gutslasher said. He turned to the little Wizard and handed him a parchment and quill. "Put in writing that you swear your guardian has not informed you of any rights and obligations as the Heir to House Potter. Put a drop of your blood on your signature."
As Harry was signing the document, he said, "I don't even know who my guardian is, unless it's my Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. And they told me my parents died drunk in a car accident."
"Are those Wizards?"
"No, sir, both are Muggles. Aunt 'Tunia is my mother's sister."
"And you do not know the identity of your magical guardian?"
"Ur," Harry looked embarrassed, "No sir."
The Goblin handed him another parchment, taking the first and tearing it in half. "Do it again, and put in that you magical guardian hasn't revealed himself or herself to you and that your Muggle guardians have lied to you regarding your parents and the magical world."
Harry sighed, but did as requested, handing over the finished document with a drop of blood by his signature. The Goblin read it and tossed it on the desk where it briefly flashed in a bright glow.
"Excellent, Gutslasher," Lockhart said. "While we wait for the ring, perhaps you could show Mr. Potter his financial position?" He turned to Harry, "Would you like it do that in private or would you mind doing it here?"
Harry looked slightly panicked at the thought of leaving the room.
Gilderoy turned back to the Goblins. "Mr. Potter, I think, wishes to consult in here."
Harry gave a relieved nod.
Gutslasher looked back and forth between them, and then grunted in acknowledgement. He glared at Harry a moment.
"Mr. Potter knows nothing of finance, Gutslasher," Gilderoy said, "So perhaps you should acquaint him with his Vaults' status and a brief overview of his properties. Later you can explain his investments in depth."
The glare transferred to Gilderoy, but the Wizard kept his face clear and calm, no trace of his normal showy smile. The Goblins would find it offensive.
The Goblin grunted again, and then turned to Harry. He opened the ledger, slammed it down in front of the boy and started talking rapidly.
Gilderoy turned to Ragnurk. "Now, as I said, the Miss Granger, here, needs a Heritage Search."
Hermione had been listening carefully to Gutslasher and looking over Harry's shoulder. Both of them showed shock at what they were seeing. Harry knew he had money, but to see the actual sums was stunning. There were far more digits than he had ever expected to see.
The Wizard walked over, took the Witch by a shoulder, and guided her over to the Credenza where Ragnurk was waiting. She kept looking back at Harry and his account manager. During their conversations, another Goblin had come in and dropped off some papers.
Ragnurk just handed the Blood Quill to the Witch and pointed to the top sheet. Hermione gave Gilderoy a questioning look but didn't take the quill.
Gilderoy smiled at the small Witch.
"Miss Granger, that paper is charmed to match all the blood and magic signatures recorded in Gringotts. When you write your name, it will compare your blood and magic with all those records and if any match, or match close enough to indicate you are an Heir to the Family, they will list below your name."
He chuckled, "You might even discover that some of your classmates are distantly related to you via their great-grandparents or even farther back.
She hesitantly took it and signed her name.
There was a momentary pause, then, House of Dagworth-Granger, sole living Heir appeared below her name, as if written by her. She looked up at Gilderoy and then the Goblin.
"Excellent, then, Miss Granger!" Lockhhart said enthusiastically. "It appears you are related to the Wizarding family of Dagworth-Granger and you are the only known living relation. Therefore, you inherit any vaults, their contents, and lands left by the family." He smiled broadly, as if she had done something quite clever. "Hector Dagworth-Granger was the founder of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers, and a famous potioneer. You should find his personal journals quite interesting on the subject. Professor Snape might even be impressed if you were to give him a copy of one of them." The little Witch stared at him, still trying to take in that she belonged to a Wizarding family.
Ragnurk had already addressed a parchment and sent it on its way with a snap of his fingers. Almost at that moment, the door opened and a Goblin came in with small box that he took to Gutslasher.
They watched silently as Harry opened the box and put on the ring inside. Gilderoy walked over and held out his hands. "Congratulations, Lord Potter! You are now your own man, beholden to no one." Harry dazedly shook his hand.
"Gutslasher, because Lord Potter knows nothing of financial or estate management, would you recommend someone to act as his and Miss Granger's tutor? Charge his cost to Potter House. We can set up something on Sunday afternoons in Hogwarts or Hogsmeade, I'm sure." The Goblin nodded.
"Also," he turned and addressed Harry. "Lord Potter," the boy blushed at the title, "before you occupy any of your properties, I suggest you have the Goblins review and update their protective enchantments. There are Death Eaters still out there who would love to sneak up on you if they could. Whichever property you select to stay at this summer," the boy's eyes widened in surprise at that possibility, "I suggest you put it under a fidelius charm and reveal that only to a select few." He paused, and then added significantly, "Not the Headmaster, who might feel compelled to interfere and force you to your relatives in Surrey." Harry's face darkened at the mention of his aunt and uncle. Hermione gave Gilderoy a startled look and then turned to look at Harry. Harry slowly nodded.
"If you wish, I can give you advice on which adults you can trust. There aren't many besides myself."
The boy nodded again.
"Would you like the Goblins to review and upgrade as needed the protective enchantments on all your properties?"
"Yes, Professor Lockhart."
Gilderoy tilted his head towards the Goblins, "Well then, tell them." Harry hesitantly gave them the orders.
"Miss Granger," the Wizard turned to the girl, "before you give such orders to the Goblins, please carefully review your finances and the costs. Spending gold you don't have, even by accident, can be quite fatal when dealing with Goblins."
She nodded as she said, "Yes, Professor Lockhart."
"In the meantime, I suggest you send copies of the Gringotts reports to your parents. Lord Potter, I'm sure, would not mind giving Hedwig the exercise."
Both students gave him a curious look, wondering how he knew that Harry's owl's name was Hedwig.
They spent another hour with the Goblins reviewing the financial statements. Like most Houses, the Potter had most of their wealth tied up in property, however because there hadn't been any withdrawals in ten years there was much higher percentage of gold in his vaults than most. Gilderoy suggested he leave it mainly untouched until he had learned more about investing. His income was roughly twenty thousand galleons a year, ten times that of the average Witch or Wizard.
Miss Granger's estate was considerably smaller, with only a single dwelling. Dagworth-Granger's income from his potion patents had expired a hundred years ago. And while he had founded the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers, that did not provide any income, only bragging rights. If the house had had no upkeep since the last Dagworth-Granger had lived there, it might not be inhabitable. It was highly doubtful that any house-elves still survived and maintained the place, although it was possible. They would have to set aside a weekend to examine it.
As they were wrapping up, Hermione asked, "Have you done a Heritage Search, Professor Lockhart?"
He grinned widely, his charming smile on full display, "Why thank you for thinking of me, Miss Granger. I am the only Lockhart — my father is a Muggle and my mother a Witch whose family disinherited her, so only my family name will list."
She looked at him a moment, then said, "Why not do one anyway, as long as we are here."
He shrugged his shoulders. "An excellent idea, and a no-result demonstration is as important as one that reveals much." He turned to Ragnurk. "A Heritage Search, Ragnurk." He chuckled slightly. "Perhaps there is a secret or two hiding in my ancestry that I do not know!"
Two minutes later, he was staring at the parchment in horror, his eyes wide as the print marched down the page past his Family name. "No!" he whispered.
The parchment displayed:
.
House of Lockhart, Lord, founder.
House of Black, Lord, by Magic.
House of Potter, Lord, by Magic.
House of Peverell, Lord, by Magic.