31st Oct 1992
The Great Hall, Hogwarts
"Huh! I wasn't expecting that," Neville remarked, watching Ben standing together with Lady Greengrass and getting photographed.
"So that's why he told me not to accept that invitation to Nick's Deathday party!" Harry came to the realisation. "I guess he wanted us here for this."
"What do you mean?" said Ron, still looking shocked. "It's actually true?! He's Richard Castle?"
"Yeah," they both confirmed.
"How long have you two known about this?" Seamus asked full of excitement.
"Since the first day we met, actually," Neville said proudly.
"Blimey! You could've said something," complained Seamus.
"Do you think he would sign my copy of The Book of the Dead?" Ron asked hopefully.
"He did for Ginny," shrugged Harry.
"Ginny!" Ron turned to his sister, feeling terribly betrayed. "Why didn't you tell me?!"
"He said not to tell anyone about it," replied Ginny.
"But I'm your brother!" He urged.
"So?" came her indifferent reply.
Meanwhile at the Slytherin table, Malfoy looked ready to pop a vein. He couldn't understand what was happening or why it was happening. Carter had seemed little more than one of Potter's flunkeys last year. He was good at lessons like Granger, but that's about it.
Yet this year, the guy was making waves like no one's business. When Carter attacked him, Malfoy had gone straight to Snape. He had expected Snape to deduct a ton of points from Ravenclaw and assign detentions to Carter for the rest of the school year. Instead, Snape had admonished him for calling Granger a mudblood in public and then dismissed him. He still had a hard time believing what had happened.
Undaunted, he had sent a letter to his father regarding the incident and asked him to have the filthy half-blood expelled. His father's reply shocked him. He was told that Carter was close to the headmaster and was advised to keep his head down for now. He was still fuming over that response. And now this!
"Excuse me!" Lockhart made his voice known. "There must be some misunderstanding!" He said with a pained smile as everyone turned to look at him. "You see, The Librarian novels first appeared in 1987. At that time, Mr Carter would have been eight years old..."
"Seven, actually," I corrected him. "My birthday is on September 14."
"Right, seven," he said with a big smile, as if I had just proved his point. "Are you telling us that a seven year old wrote 3 fairly successful - although not as much as my own - novels?" He smiled quizzically. "Seems a bit far-fetched, doesn't it?"
"Yes, it does sound quite extraordinary," I agreed. "Thankfully, I foresaw that it might. So, I made sure to keep irrefutable evidence to prove my identity."
I produced the first piece of parchment from my storage ring. "Here is the copyright registration certificate for my works issued by the Intellectual Property Office of the Ministry of Magic. As anyone can see, Benjamin Carter is listed as the owner, while Richard Castle is named as the author."
I took out the next piece of evidence. "This is my contract with White Knight Publications for The Librarian novel series, once again signed under my actual name."
I presented the final documents for my defence. "And these are my Gringotts bank statements. My vault was opened one month before the release of my first novel, when White Knight Publications gave me an advance payment. Since then, there have been regular deposits coinciding with book releases and reprints."
Mr Billingsly dutifully took pictures of me holding out the documents, while Mr Carlisle's auto-quill was furiously running back and forth across the breadth of his notepad.
"I submit them to you, Headmaster, to determine the veracity of my words." I said.
Everyone waited with baited breaths as I offered the documents to Dumbledore. He started poring through them with his half-moon spectacles. Lockhart stood up and made to look at the papers. In response, Professor McGonagall directed a withering glare towards him, and the fop deflated back into his chair.
"Everything seems to be in order," Professor Dumbledore smiled as he handed back the papers. "Very astute of you to keep these at hand for authenticating yourself, Mr Castle."
The noise in the hall shot up at the Headmaster's words. Being widely accepted as the most powerful wizard of our times, no one here doubted Dumbledore's judgement. Lockhart however, didn't seem too pleased with the outcome and looked on dejectedly at the proceedings.
"Thank you, professor," I said, taking back the documents and putting them away. Turning around, I subtly nodded at Mr Carlisle, who took the cue.
"Mr Carter, Henry Carlisle, Daily Prophet," he announced, coming forward. "Do you mind if I ask you a couple of questions?"
"Not at all. Please, go ahead," I said graciously. He then conjured two comfortable armchairs in front of the high table for us to sit down and talk.
"Thank you. First of all, I'd like to congratulate you on the phenomenal success of your books. The Librarian novels have become a household name in the Wizarding World, especially among the younger generation." His words were accompanied by cheers of the students in the Hall.
"Thank you, Mr Carlisle. I have done fairly well, but none of it would have been possible without the love and support of my wonderful fans." I said, much to the delight of the crowd.
"Can you tell us where you get the inspiration for your books?" He asked.
"Honestly, they just come to me. Ideas, I mean," I shrugged. "Part of it, of course has to do with the fact that I read a lot. I'm not sure if you know, but I'm a Ravenclaw," I whispered conspiratorially, and the crowd chuckled. "You can thank my wonderful mum for that," I pointed to the Gryffindor table, where mum and dad were sitting with Rachel. Nigel took a photo of my family, while my parents looked proudly at me. "She's a Ravenclaw too, you know. Thanks to her, I grew up in a house filled with all kinds of books, and developed a love for learning for an early age."
"My dear dad, on the other hand, is an Auror. When I was little, everyday when he came home from work, he would entertain me with stories about how he and his friends would stop the bad guys and save the day," I reminisced, looking at my father who smiled at my words. "So, lots of books, love for learning, stopping bad guys, saving the day," I counted on my fingers. "Put them all together, and you've got The Librarian in a nutshell." I concluded.
Applause rang out as I finished talking. Mr Carlisle waited for the furore to die down before continuing.
"Sounds like you have a lovely family. We should all be grateful to them for raising such a wonderful young man," he smiled. "Now, my next question is: why did you decide to use a pen-name for your books instead of your actual name?"
"Why, anonymity, of course," I answered simply. "I wrote my first novel because one day I had this idea, and I just couldn't get it out of my head until I jotted it down on paper. I thought it was pretty good, so I showed it to my parents."
"They loved it and praised me for it," I smiled remembering that night. "I would've been satisfied with that. Then dad asked if I wanted to get my book published, and I thought - eh, why not? So, mum took me to meet a publisher friend of hers. I still wanted to have a normal childhood then."
"Yet, the moment Lady Greengrass read my diary, she told me that I'd be an overnight sensation...and that I could kiss any kind of privacy good bye," I said with a serious expression. "I'm not a social butterfly, Mr Carlisle. I like hanging out with my friends and spending time with my family. But beyond that, I enjoy my privacy. Noticing my hesitation, Lady Greengrass suggested that I use a pen-name. And that is how Richard Castle came into existence."
"I see. So, what made you change your mind? Why reveal yourself to the public now?" He asked, voicing the thoughts of our audience.
"Because of The Vulture," I answered.
"I beg your pardon?" He said, confused.
"Do you know what a vulture is, Mr Carlisle?" I asked, leaning back into my chair.
"A scavenger bird?" He posited.
"Exactly. There is a man in our society. He is a writer...of sorts. Only he doesn't write anything of his own. Just like how a vulture feeds on the kills of other animals, this man feeds on the deeds of other men and women."
While talking, I surveyed the curious expressions across the Hall. As my eyes went to the staff table, they stayed for a moment longer on the Defence teacher, whose face was beginning to show traces of agitation.
"Whenever this man...this vulture hears about an incident regarding a dangerous magical creature or being, he travels to that place...but only after the situation has been resolved," I told my enthralled audience. "He then tracks down the witch or wizard who solved the problem, calls on them for a friendly chat, gets all the juicy details out of them and then, obliviates them."
"What?!" yelled Mr Carlisle, shocked.
"Oh yes. He makes them believe that they had nothing to do with the incident...that he is the one who took care of it. Then he comes back home, takes all the facts he has gathered, embellishes them with self-praise, fake magic spells, impossible acts of strength and courage and presents them in the form of a novel describing his latest adventure." I said to the astonishment of all.
"My word, is this really true? Who is this swindler?" asked Mr Carlisle in apparent outrage.
My eyes once again drifted to the high table where a different scene was playing out. All the teachers were looking speculatively at Lockhart. The lavender robed charlatan had begun sweating now, which was quite a feat considering how cold the weather was right now.
At the Gryffindor table, Neville and Harry exchanged glances.
"I knew it," they said at once.
"I can't give you his name right now. I don't like making statements without having proof to back them up." Visible relief washed over Lockhart's face. "I can tell you however, that White Knight Publications has sent out people to investigate the places that The Vulture has visited in the course of his travels. Right now, our people are gathering proof of his misdeeds. We have even gotten the Department of Magical Law Enforcement involved. With any luck, he will be writing his next novel 'Detention with Dementors' in a few months." I said.
I once again glanced at the staff table. By now, others had noticed that I kept looking in that direction. We were greeted with the sight of Lockhart looking as white as a sheet and fidgeting in his chair, as if he wanted to be anywhere but here.
"I'll take your word for it," said Mr Carlisle, moving his suspicious gaze away from Lockhart. "However, what does this man have to do about your decision to go public?"
"I was getting to that. Evidently, he has run out of people to con, with no interesting incidents happening lately. His last book was an autobiography which contained nothing new, only babblings about his previous adventures." Once again, everyone turned to look at the Defence teacher with speculative eyes.
"A couple months ago, his people reached out to White Knight Publications. Apparently, the fraud thought that the Publishing House owned the copyright of my books and that the author was just a nameless nobody," I said with a vicious grin. "You see, he wanted me to continue as a ghostwriter, while he would "reveal himself" as the original author."
The reactions of the student body ranged from outrage from the Gryffindors to grudging admiration from the Slytherins. At the Ravenclaw table, Hermione looked at Lockhart with disbelief in her eyes. That emotion swiftly turned to scorn and disgust.
"Naturally, Lady Greengrass informed me about this on the very same day. The fraud planned on spreading some rumours in the next few months about himself being the author of my books," I said, leaning back into my chair.
"I couldn't allow this. I couldn't possibly let this imposter lay claim on my creations and hire gossip mongers to turn public opinion in his favour," I said with complete seriousness. "So, I decided to get ahead of this and reveal myself to the public, even if it might create some hindrances for me later."
"I see. Well, that is certainly an unusual reason for coming forward," conceded Mr Carlisle. "Nevertheless, I wish you the best of luck, and I know your fans do the same." His words were supported by the cheers coming from the students.
"Thank you," I said with a smile.
"Now, on to the most important question: is there any news regarding your next novel?" He asked in a dead serious tone. The Great Hall quietened as everyone looked at me in anticipation.
"There is, actually." I smiled and turned to address the students. "I am pleased to announce that my next novel The Librarian and the Sands of Time will be in book stores in December," I proclaimed to the delight of the audience. "So if you're thinking about getting the perfect Christmas present, you know what to do." I threw a playful wink at the students and they responded with good-humoured laughter.
"Well, that about sums up all the questions I have for you, Mr Castle," Mr Carlisle smiled. "Is there anything else you'd like to say?"
"I do have something," I said. "Tell me, Mr Carlisle, have you ever seen a movie?"
"What's a movie?" whispered Ron.
"Shh," said Neville.
"You're talking about muggle films?" Mr Carlisle asked and I nodded. "I have. Quite a few, actually."
"Did you enjoy them?" I enquired.
"I did, yes. Why?" He said.
"Well you see, I like them too. We have a TV in our house. I grew up watching films and shows," I informed him. "I was impressed by how muggles used moving pictures to convey ideas and thoughts to the public. So much so that I decided to make my own films."
"Forgive me, but don't you need lots of people to do that?" said Mr Carlisle, confused. "Actors, cameramen and what not?"
"Yes, but that's the case for live-action films, not animation." I explained.
"Animation?" He repeated. "Are you talking about cartoons?"
"Close, but not really." I shook my head. "You see, I have been working for sometime on this new art form called CGI - Computer Generated Imagery, with a magical computer I built myself. And I'm pleased to say that I have managed to create a few movies of my own."
Excited whispers went around the Hall. The children raised in pureblood families looked skeptical about these movies that were apparently inspired by muggles; while those who knew what movies were and how much it cost to make them, looked on in sheer disbelief. Meanwhile, Harry and Neville turned to each other.
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" enquired Harry.
"I'm thinking about your birthday party," confirmed Neville.
They both smiled. "Nice!"
Mr Carlisle shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Let me see if I got this right - you made some animation films by yourself, on a magical device that you built on your own?"
"Yes," I said with a smile.
"Oh, this I've got to see!" He said excitedly. "Any chance we can get a glimpse of your new project?"
"Well, I've already told you about it. It would just be cruel to leave you hanging now," I smiled, before turning to the student body.
"What do you say? Wanna watch a movie?" I asked loudly.
"Yes!" came the enthusiastic reply.
"I can't hear you!" I teased.
"YES!" The response was so loud that it nearly raised the bewitched ceiling.
"Alright!" I smiled and turned to the Headmaster.
"Professor?" I enquired.
"You had me cancel this evening's entertainment, Mr Carter." Dumbledore smiled. "Seems only right that you make up for it."
"As you say, sir," I smiled, before turning back to the Hall. "Alright, people. Get ready for a night like you've never had!"
Amidst the cheering crowd, I made my way to the very front of the Great Hall and took out my projector. The sleek, futuristic chrome look helped convince the masses of its uniqueness. Setting it up in such a way that the illusion would be cast like a huge screen over the massive double doors, I prepared the movie I had selected for this evening.
I gave Dumbledore the signal and he dimmed the lights. The braziers around the hall burned lower, while most of the candles got snuffed out. The giant floating pumpkin heads became the solitary sources of light in the darkened hall. It was then that the front of the room lit up with a enormous screen of light, on which appeared three words for everyone to see.