14 February 1993 (nearly three months ago)
The Great Hall on the morning of Valentine's Day
"There are worse ways to celebrate the holiday, I suppose, Gilderoy" said Flitwick with twinkling eyes. "I still recall the chaos you unleashed on the school on Valentine's Day in 1980."
"Chaos, Filius?" he said in confusion. "I'm sure you exaggerate."
"Exaggerate, my boy?" the diminutive professor said with a laugh. "You sent 800 Valentine's messages to yourself! We had to cancel lunch because of all the owl droppings befouling the Great Hall!"
Lockhart stared at his fellow Ravenclaw as if trying to figure out if he was joking. Then, he laughed. "Ha-ha! You know I'd quite forgotten about that bit of foolishness! I don't remember if I apologized at the time for however many points I cost Ravenclaw, but if not, I eagerly do so now."
"Oh, water under the bridge, my boy. Water under the bridge." Flitwick laughed. On the other side of him, however, Snape observed the conversation silently and with an odd expression.
After breakfast, Snape made his way back to his private room. It was a Sunday and he had no classes nor anything else to distract him. Lacking any other way to procrastinate, he paced the room for almost ten minutes before he finally surrendered. As much as he hated the thought of what he was about to do, at the end of the day, Severus Snape cared about Hogwarts and its students. And that meant that some things were more important than both pride and practiced bitterness. Snape exhaled through gritted teeth. Then, he stepped over to the fireplace in his private quarters and tossed a handful of Floo powder into the fire.
"Potter Manor," he spat into the flames almost angrily. Seconds later, a house elf appeared in the flames and inquired as to the Potions Master's business. "Tell Lord Potter that Severus Snape wishes to speak with him about an urgent matter."
The elf nodded and scampered off. Several minutes later, James Potter, still his pajamas and with unbrushed hair, stuck his head into the green flames. He looked decidedly happy at the sight of his old rival. "Snape, it's early. What do you want?"
"It's nine-thirty, Potter. People who actually work for a living have already been up for hours. In any event, this is not a social call. I wish to speak with you both in your capacity as an auror and as a parent to two Hogwarts students."
"Is Jim in trouble again?" he asked with concern. "Or Harry?"
"No more so than is usual for either of them. No, Potter, this is a matter of a more generalized concern." He hesitated. "I want to talk to you about Gilderoy Lockhart."
8 May 1993
Gryffindor Tower
Ron jerked awake in his bed from yet another nightmare. He'd been having those with increasing regularity, and the worst part was that he could never remember anything that happened in them. Well, not quite – he could always remember a recurring theme of riding around as a prisoner in his own mind while some ... thing wore his body like a suit and walked around in it. He rarely remembered what the intruder did with his body, just a vague recollection of being trapped alone in the dark. But this one was different. He still didn't remember any specifics, but he had a strong impression that his dream had involved laughing at the body of Headmaster Dumbledore as he lay helpless on the floor. And then ... something about chickens. Ron reached for his wand and cast a quick Tempus. 6:45 a.m. He sighed. It was a Saturday, and he'd planned to sleep in and catch up on his rest, and yet here he was once more – wide awake after some stupid nightmare.
The youngest Weasley boy yawned and got up out of bed to head to the bathroom and wash his face off. Once there, he reached for the faucet but then stopped and looked at his hand. There was something on palm, something brown and sticky. He pulled the hand up to his nose and sniffed. The smell was coppery and familiar, and for just a moment, a chill ran down his back as he wondered how on earth he could have woken up to find dried blood on his hands. Then, he shuddered for a few seconds in response to the disturbing mental image of something slithering through his mind and hungrily devouring the thoughts of concern and fear borne of his discovery. Shaking his head, the boy washed his hands and face thoroughly before heading back to bed. By the time he fell back asleep, the blood stains had already been forgotten.
Later in the Great Hall...
Harry studied the faculty table with some interest. It was nearly the end of breakfast, and for some reason, Dumbledore had not put in an appearance. Of course, he didn't always show up for breakfast. Rank had its privileges, after all, and Dumbledore had an army of house elves at his command if he'd wanted to have breakfast in bed. But Marcus said that for as long as he'd been a Hogwarts student, the Headmaster had always come to breakfast on the morning of Quidditch matches to wish both competing teams good luck and to encourage fair play and good sportsmanship. Even when the Slytherins were playing!
"Maybe he's at the Ministry trying to get something done about these petrifications," said Daphne Greengrass.
"Or maybe Lord Malfoy's already gotten him sacked," Theo speculated.
"If there's anything to it, we'll find out soon enough," Harry said calmly while reviewing the Daily Prophet's Quidditch rankings. He was soon distracted by a loud laugh from farther down the table. It was Miranda Bonneville and a few others of her little clique, giggling over something (probably some insult the notoriously cruel Pureblood had made about some other girl).
"By the way," Daphne said quietly while leaning in close. "The school year's almost over. Have you given any thought to that yet?"
Harry looked back at the girl. "Any thought to what?"
Daphne frowned. "The fact that Miranda Bonnevie, whose agenda is roughly the total opposite of yours, will probably become one of the Seventh Year prefects this summer and stands a good chance of becoming Head Girl. And she's as big a Pureblood bigot as Warrington is. Maybe even as bad as Draco was before you ... got hold of him."
"Honestly, I haven't thought about it. I've been kind of busy this year." Harry smiled. "And I can't imagine what you mean by suggesting I 'got hold' of Draco last year. Personally, I think he just matured a bit. That's all."
Daphne rolled her eyes. "Well, like I said, this year's nearly over, and next year, you may have to deal with having a Death Eater sympathizer whose a cousin to the Selwyns and who's able to dock points from you at will and otherwise make your life a hell."
"Ah!" Harry said softly but triumphantly. "She's a Selwyn! That's why you don't like her!"
Daphne sniffed. "I don't like her because she's more bitch than witch, and I don't want her vile family having influence over my own."
Harry nodded sagely. "Fair enough. I'll see what I can do."
Meanwhile, up at the faculty table, the staff were also wondering where the Headmaster was. Hagrid, in particular, seemed agitated.
"I do hope Perfessor Dumbledore gets 'ere soon. I wanted ta talk ta him 'bout my roosters!"
"What about them, Hagrid?" asked the long-suffering Professor Kettleburn.
"Well... sumun kilt 'em all!" the half-giant exclaimed.
"Someone, Hagrid? Are you quite sure it wasn't a fox or something?"
"Foxes eat chickens and roosters, Perfessor Ket'lburn. They don't slice their heads off but leave'r bodies round to rot!"
Kettleburn started to respond when he was interrupted by the DADA instructor who was nearby listening in.
"I say, Silvanus, old chap. Refresh my memory. Aren't there some dark creatures that are vulnerable to the sound of cock crows?"
Surprised, Kettleburn stopped to think. "Only one that I can think of off-hand, though it's incredibly rare."
"Oh?" said Lockhart while bearing a curious expression. "Which one?"
After breakfast in Gryffindor Tower...
The members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team were gathered in their Common Room so that Oliver could give a quick speech in front of whole house when Emily entered, still wiping the tears from her eyes.
"Hold on, Oliver," she said. "No one's leaving the Tower. The match today has been ... indefinitely postponed.
"WHAT?!" he exploded. "What in Merlin's name for?!"
Before she could answer, a message in the voice of Professor McGonagall sounded in the room and all throughout the castle.
"All students report to their dormitory Common Rooms immediately! Until further notice, the school is locked down, and any students found out of bounds without a note from a teacher will ... suffer the most serious consequences. That is all."
Jim stepped forward. "Emily?" he asked with a concerned voice. "What's happened?"
She looked at him strangely and then took a deep breath before addressing the whole room. "Gryffindors, listen up! About twenty minutes ago... Headmaster Dumbledore was ... was found petrified. Professor McGonagall is running things for the time being, and she has ordered that no one is to be out of their common rooms other than prefects until further notice. We're in lockdown until Monday, and after that, prefects will escort the rest of the students to their various classes for the remainder of term." She drew another shaky breath. "Assuming there is a remainder of the term, that is. The Board of Governors will meet tomorrow afternoon in emergency session to discuss... whether to close the school."
There was an immediate outburst, bordering on riot, at that announcement, and naturally, those Gryffindors inclined to think that Jim Potter was the Heir were not shy about saying so. Finally, Neville had had enough. He raised his wand and shot of a round of fireworks.
"Hey! Idiots! I was sharing a room with Jim last night! He was in bed by 10:30 and I stayed up until midnight working on my DADA paper. He never left the room!" Longbottom's remark chastened a few people but some, like McLaggan and some of the older males were not impressed.
"How do we know you're not in on it with him, Longbottom?!" Cormac snarled at the boy.
"ENOUGH!" shouted Emily. "The Headmaster was seen by Caretaker Filch shortly before midnight. I stayed in the Common Room until after three studying, and I never saw anyone leave either. Does anyone want to accuse me of working with the Heir?"
At that, the crowd quieted down a good deal, as Emily Rossum was known to be on the Auror track and was tops in her class in Defense.
"I thought not," she said in a calmer voice. "Now, everyone back to their rooms. At quarter of noon, we will all meet down here and walk to the Great Hall together for lunch. Roll will be taken! No one will be allowed out of their dorms alone!"
Meanwhile in the Prince's Lair ...
Harry and Theo sat alone on opposite sides of the big table. Both were noticeably upset about Marcus's announcement to the House – that the school was in lockdown and might soon be closed. And astoundingly, it was because Albus Dumbledore, the Invincible Defeater of Grindlewald, had been brought down by a glorified schoolboy prank.
"I should have been on this since Halloween," Harry said in a hollow bitter voice. "Ever since that damned cat got petrified. I should have been on this, but instead I let myself get distracted with Patronuses and ping-pong and Potter family drama! And now we're going to lose everything we've worked for over the last two years!" He turned to the vacant and silent Hydra Throne and hissed angrily at it. There was no response. "Hmph! And I'll probably never find out who the Heir of Slytherin is and how he turned the Hogwarts snakes against me!"
"Yeah, sorry, not really seeing how this is your fault or your responsibility," said Theo reasonably. "Do you really think you had an obligation to beat someone who was able to defeat Dumbledore? You're a Second Year, and yet you want to assume greater responsibility than what the prefects carry, never mind what the professors carry."
"Yes, Theo, yes I do," he replied angrily. "Because I've got more to lose than any of them. If the school gets shut down, it will stay shut down for a minimum of two years. I'll have to start over again somewhere else. Probably Durmstrang if Peter Pettigrew has his way!"
"You'll adapt and excel. You always do. So what are you really worried about?" Harry looked towards Theo with an annoyed expression, but his friend was undeterred. "Is it really yourself? Or are you more worried about your friends?"
Harry sighed loudly. "Of course I'm worried about my friends. I have no idea what sort of fallback Wizarding Britain has in the event of Hogwarts' closure, but given the general competence level of our national leaders, I can't imagine it's anything good. Plus ..." He paused suddenly and looked away.
"Plus what?" Theo said calmly. "It's okay, Harry. I've been thinking about it too. If Hogwarts' closes and Draco stays petrified, it's unlikely that Lucius Malfoy will take me in again for the summer. Which means I'm probably going back to Nott Hall and my violently abusive father."
"How are you so calm about this?"
Theo shrugged. "Occlumency lessons since the age of nine? Besides, I've lived in fear for my life from Tiberius since I was in short pants. Whatever else happens, I've decided that I'll never live in fear of him again. If worst comes to worst, I'll stun the bastard and then climb over the walls and run away. I still have an offer of sanctuary from Madam Longbottom."
Harry grimaced. He would find some way to keep the school from being closed down, whatever it took. And if he could not accomplish that, then he would find some way to protect Theo from the other boy's psychotic father ... again, whatever it took. Grimly, he thought once more about his desire not to start a body count and wondered if, perversely, that was a form of moral cowardice. He rubbed his eyes in frustration.
"Come on, Theo. Let's go. It'll be time for lunch soon." The two rose and headed for the door. Just as they reached the threshold, Harry spun around and hissed at the Hydra in a fury. There was no response, and Harry sighed loudly in disappointment. Theo gave his friend a sad look.
"Sorry, Harry."
"It's okay, Theo. Someday, I'll figure this out."
"Yeah," Theo said as he walked out the door ahead of Harry. "It's a pity you can't just conjure a snake and get it to translate for you."
"Mm-hmm," Harry replied absently as he followed his friend out, and the door closed behind him.
Exactly four seconds later, the door opened again, and Harry practically flew into the room, his wand out and an incantation on his lips.
"SERPENSORTIA!" he bellowed. There was a flash of light, and suddenly, a medium-sized milk snake appeared on the table.
"Talk to the Hydra statue!" Harry hissed commandingly. "Ask it why it won't talk to me!"
"Um, oookay," the snake hissed dubiously before turning towards seemingly immobile statue. "Hello, snakes! The Speaker wishes to know why you won't talk to him."
"Seriously?" exclaimed Theo in disbelief. "You honestly never thought of trying this?"
"Not. Now. Theo." Harry ground out the words through clenched teeth as he looked back and forth between the statue and the snake he'd conjured. The Hydra sat still and inanimate. Then, just as Harry was about to give up once more and vanish the snake, one of the Hydra heads moved. It was Delilah the Boomslang who turned her head to face Rajah, the great Basilisk who stood in the middle and served as the unofficial chair-snake for their committee.
"The false-snake raises a valid point," she hissed. "We are not expressly forbidden to talk to snakes. Only to other Speakers."
"Be silent, vacuous one!" the three-headed Runespoor angrily hissed in three-part harmony. "The order was clear and came from one with authority. It is not for us to question his command!"
"Well I, for one, do question it," hissed Ka the Cobra somewhat pompously. "It is far from clear that the Prince-Emeritus has the authority to issue such a command in his current state. The Creator left no wisdom applicable to these ... unusual circumstances."
"Irrelevent," rumbled Nidhogg the Krait. "This is a test for the Prince-Claimant. If he cannot defeat his enemy without our assistance, then he does not deserve that assistance in the first place."
"Perhaps," hissed Jormungand reasonably, "but we can at least respect the Prince-Claimant's cleverness in finding away around the limitations imposed by his secret enemy."
"What?!" Mara the Ashwinder hissed almost incredulously. "The Prince-Claimant wasn't clever at all! He only thought of this stratagem because the non-Speaker youngling suggested it to him! He's had months to think of conjuring a serpent intermediary!" Harry actually winced at that and then blushed slightly.
"Enough!" hissed Rajah with authority. "I call for a vote. Let each serpent speak their will. Shall we speak to Prince-Claimant Harry Potter in defiance of the Prince-Emeritus's orders? Or shall we remain silent? Yes or no?"
"No!" hissed the Runespoor in unison.
"No," hissed the Krait.
"Yes," hissed the Boomslang forcefully.
"No," hissed the Ashwinder after a brief hesitation.
"Yes," hissed the Python.
"Yes," hissed the Cobra.
"The tie-breaking vote is mine," said the Basilisk. "And I vote ... no. The Prince-Claimant has failed to demonstrate a vision as bold and all-encompassing as that of the Prince-Emeritus, even if that vision is a profoundly troubling one. Thus, I vote to return to our former silence."
"But Ka...!" interrupted Delilah.
"We have voted, Exemplar of Subtlety. The majority has spoken and you will submit to it."
The Boomslang hissed in frustration. "Very well, Exemplar of Ambition. I submit to the majority's will. I will say nothing more to Prince-Claimant Potter."
The rest of the snakes hissed softly in agreement and moved back into their normal resting positions.
"Not even of the fact that the order came directly from Prince-Emeritus Tom Marvolo Riddle," she hissed smugly.
Instantly, all of the other heads hissed angrily at her defiance in revealing that secret, but Harry was sure he could hear the soft "ki-ki-ki" of Delilah's laugh over the din. Finally, the angry hisses died down, and the snakes returned to quiescence. The milk snake studied the throne for a moment and then turned back to Harry.
"They said no," it hissed blandly, as if bored by the proceedings.
"So I heard, but thanks anyway," hissed Harry as he raised his wand and vanished the conjured snake.
"Well," Theo asked. "For the benefit of those of us who don't speak snake, what did they say?"
Harry's face darkened. "They said 'Harry Potter is an idiot!'" he said as he slammed his hand onto the table. "I should have realized months ago!"
"Realized what?"
Harry turned to face his friend with an angry expression. "The person who silenced all the snakes is ... probably the only person who ever could have! I'd assumed that the Heir of Slytherin was someone descended from Tom Marvolo Riddle, another student. But the person who ordered the snakes not to talk to me was both another Parseltongue and a former Prince. It's not Riddle's descendant. It's Riddle himself!"
"What?! You mean this Riddle guy's here at Hogwarts?"
"Yeah," said Harry. The boy reigned in his emotions and focused his anger into cold determination. "And I should have guessed the truth from the start. Who's the only new faculty member whose arrival coincided with the petrifications? Who's the only new faculty member who also is remotely powerful enough and cunning enough to possibly get the drop on Dumbledore?" Harry's eyes narrowed as his surged against his emotional barriers. "And who's the guy who I distrusted from pretty much the moment I first saw him?"
Theo's eyes widened. "Lockhart?!"
"The man himself. Someone who's a bumbling pompous fool one minute and a brilliant duelist and expert on forbidden magic the next! Tom Riddle is here in this school disguised as Gilderoy Lockhart!" Despite himself, Harry fumed at the idea while Theo contemplated his shocking theory. Then, Harry stiffened as an idea came to him. He turned to face his young friend.
"Theo, I need to borrow your family ring," he said, causing the boy's eyes to widen in surprise.
DMLE Headquarters
10:00 a.m.
Unusually for someone of his stature, James Potter was at his desk early on a Saturday morning going through reports forwarded to him from magical law enforcement agencies around the world. He'd begun making inquiries almost three months before at the suggestion of Severus Snape. That by itself was an astonishing development. The two men had practically been in a blood feud since they were both eleven years old, but Snape was right – if the children of Hogwarts were in danger, it was time for the two of them to put aside their differences, at least for a while. Over the last few weeks, reports had finally been coming in, and while several of them were suggestive, none so far really constituted proof. None, that is, until late the previous afternoon, when a contact with the Australian DMLE forwarded the file on a cold case from the mid-1980's. James had come in on a Saturday to review it and take some notes before heading over to Hogwarts for the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff match. He planned to quietly advise Dumbledore of his findings and then deliver a formal report to Scrimgeour on Monday.
Suddenly, one of the junior aurors burst into his office. "Sir!" she said almost in a panic.
"Easy, Talbot. Calm down. Now what's the trouble?" The young woman swallowed, and James was surprised by her lack of decorum. "Obviously something bad," he thought. And he was right.
"We just got a Floo call from Hogwarts, sir. From Professor McGonagall." The young auror shook her head as if she couldn't believe what she was reporting. "Sir! Albus Dumbledore has been ... petrified!"
James gaped at the young woman in amazement and then looked down at his file. "No," he thought. "I guess I won't be waiting to report to Scrimgeour on Monday."
"Tell Professor McGonagall that I'll be over by Floo momentarily. Then, put a squad on standby. At least four aurors, including one senior. After I've met with her, I'll come back to collect them, but I want to be ready to move as soon as possible."
Talbot stared at him in astonishment. "But ... but sir. I thought the Hogwarts defenses wouldn't let us enter the grounds in force."
His eyes sparked almost triumphantly. "That's not quite true, Talbot. There's an exception to that rule that now suddenly applies. Now, carry out my orders." The junior auror nodded and left the office. James opened a file cabinet and began thumbing through various form documents until he found the one he needed.
Form 20315/HAF – Hogwarts Authorization to Pursue Homicide Investigation
That afternoon at lunchtime...
Harry's surprising request led to a fifteen minute argument between Theo and himself. The Slytherins were forbidden to leave the dungeon unaccompanied, and so Harry had wanted to borrow Theo's heirloom Notice-Me-Not ring so that he could slip away from the rest of the House after lunch and search Lockhart's room. Naturally, Theo thought that was completely insane. Harry responded by repeating what Flint had told the House earlier – that after lunch, all of the professors would be holding an impromptu faculty meeting probably for the rest of the afternoon to discuss their options and hopefully present a unified front before the Board of Governors' meeting to be held on Sunday. That included Lockhart who with luck would be away from the DADA classroom and his attached quarters for hours.
Theo thought Harry's plan was absurdly "Gryffindorish." Harry bluntly admitted that it was. Unfortunately, they probably had a day at most to prove that Lockhart was the Heir of Slytherin before all the students were evacuated and the school shut down, so for once there simply wasn't time for Slytherin scheming. Theo finally agreed but with a condition: He insisted on accompanying Harry on his fact-finding mission. As Harry had pointed out, Theo would likely be the person most physically endangered by the school's closing, and as bad as it would be for Tiberius Nott to discover that Theo had the enchanted ring, it would be even worse if the Death Eater learned that his son had loaned it to the Potter Heir who later got caught with it.
Lunch passed slowly and quietly. The whole student body seemed subdued by the prospect of the school's closing, and Harry noticed Jim sitting off away from the rest of his House, many of whom were giving him sullen looks. Some did so because they thought Jim was the Heir, but it seemed others were just as down on him because the Boy-Who-Lived hadn't defeated the villain already. While Harry's relationship with his twin was complicated and fraught, he certainly didn't envy Jim his status as Boy-Who-Lived.
"How miserable it would be if pretty much the entire nation thought I was some sort of twelve-year-old superhero who should be expected to succeed where Dumbledore himself failed!" Harry thought glumly.
Harry also noticed that Lockhart arrived late for lunch, and the man seemed simultaneously excited and worried after his arrival. While eating, Harry and Theo quietly sounded out Blaise, Daphne, Ginny, and Astoria, and without giving out any details, they persuaded the four to run interference for them. At the end of the lunch hour, McGonagall announced that all students were to report to their dormitories while all teachers would be attending a mandatory faculty meeting in the staff lounge. As the Slytherins were leaving, Harry and Theo drifted to the back of the pack. Theo nodded, and Harry reached out and put his hand on the other boy's shoulder. Both of them took deep breaths as Theo twisted the ring. Still holding their breaths, the two darted away from the other Slytherins in the direction of the DADA classroom and Lockhart's attached quarters. The magical ring worked - no one noticed them.
About a thirty seconds later, they stopped when Harry's breath gave out. Theo looked at him with a mixture of surprise and annoyance.
"You should take up jogging," he said. "I may have hated every second of Lockhart's early morning workouts, but I can hold my breath for almost two minutes now."
"I'll take that under advisement," Harry replied while gulping in air. Then, he took a good hard look at his friend. Both of them were recovering from a certain degree of parental neglect that was being corrected magically via nutrient potions, but while Harry looked healthier than he'd ever been before, he was still nowhere near as muscular as his twin brother. And now that Theo had mentioned it, Harry pulled up a memory of first seeing Theo at last September's Sorting Feast. Comparing the two, he realized for the first time that his friend had indeed become much healthier-looking since then. He'd also grown an inch or two this year and had become noticeably athletic due to Lockhart's training regimen.
"Hmm. I guess I have been ignoring physical development in favor of purely mental development this year. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to do some running this summer ... though I'll be damned if I do it at dawn!"
The two continued on to the DADA classroom.
"I still can't believe we're doing this," Theo muttered. "This is the most Gryffindorish thing I've ever done!"
"Really?" Harry asked in genuine surprise. "Worse than insisting that we lower you first into a pit of Devil's Snare? Or you and Blaise sneaking into the Mirror Room while I was distracting Quirrell and Voldemort with nothing but snappy banter?"
"Fair enough," Theo replied. "Say, do you think this is something we'll have to do at the end of every school year? Because if it is, maybe we should let them close the school and relocate us to Durmstrang. It can't be thatmuch more dangerous than the nonsense we seem to get into."
Harry chuckled as they arrived at the door to Lockhart's classroom. It was locked. Harry quickly went through the handful of upper-level unlocking spells he knew and hit pay dirt with one Missy Bulstrode had taught him that was borderline illegal, which was thankfully not a problem in this instance because its applicability meant that the locking spell itself was also an illegal one. Harry and Theo quietly crept into the empty classroom.
Meanwhile in the Staff Room...
The Staff Room was on the Third Floor and was a relatively spacious area. Used primarily as a lounge, the Staff Room was also where faculty meetings were held, as Dumbledore preferred his meetings to be informal and so declined to hold them in his office. There was a fireplace attached to the Floo Network for the benefit of those teachers who did not have personal Floo connections, an amenity limited to Dumbledore and the four Heads of House. There were also enough comfy chairs for every faculty member plus a few extra for guests. There were also two attached faculty lavatories, one marked "Wizards" and the other "Witches."
Presently, the Staff Room was home to the entire Hogwarts faculty, most of whom were shouting at one another. A clear majority, led by Lily Potter, wanted to close the school immediately before any more petrifications occurred and without waiting on a decision from the Board of Governors. A vocal minority opposed that plan however, including Flitwick, Professor Babbling, and surprisingly Professors Trelawney and Lockhart. The Divination Professor warned direly that it was an inauspicious time to close down the school and doing so would impose terrible consequences. McGonagall, who believed that the students' safety trumped all other concerns, was actually reassured by Trelawney's opposition. If Sybil Trelawney and her All-Knowing Inner Eye strongly opposed some course of action, McGonagall generally thought it was a good idea to go ahead and do it as soon as possible. Flitwick, however, was opposed for more pragmatic reasons and grimly reminded the other faculty members that if the school closed, that closure would be magically enforced for a minimum of two years. Furthermore, if parents became comfortable with alternative options for their children's education and the mystery of what caused the petrifications remained unsolved, there was no reason to think that any of those students would return once the school reopened.
"I quite agree with Filius. If we close the school, then whoever is responsible for the petrifications will almost certainly escape without anyone ever figuring out who it was. If that's the case, how could we ever reopen in a manner that reassures the parents?"
"It's interesting that you would place capturing the Heir of Slytherin above the safety of our students, Gilderoy," said Snape. "An odd perspective for a Defense instructor."
"Severus!" McGonagall said in a warning voice. Then, despite herself, she glanced up nervously at the clock on the wall. Lockhart noticed, and his eyes narrowed slightly before he turned back to Snape.
"Honestly, Severus. I'm not even sure what you mean about the 'safety of our students.' While certainly troubling, petrification is not a life-threatening experience, and when the Mandrakes are ready on the 29th, everyone can be restored." Beside him, Professor Sprout nodded in agreement. "So all we need to do is stay calm. And in the meantime, I have ... some ... very promising ... leads." The man trailed off slowly as his eyes widened. Then, he suddenly jumped up from his chair.
"Aah! Er, excuse me, one and all, but I've just realized. There's something in the DADA classroom that might well shed some light on these affairs! Do excuse me for a moment." Then, he darted towards the door.
"Gilderoy!' exclaimed Minerva excitedly. "We are in the middle of an important meeting!"
"It's alright, Minerva, I shan't be a jiffy. Just talk amongst yourselves until I return. Here's a topic! 'Sweetbreads: Neither Sweet Nor Bread.' Discuss!" And with that, he fled the room. As the door closed, Snape also shot out of his chair.
"Should I go after him, Minerva?" he asked urgently.
"I don't know, Severus! Oh, if only he'd waited another minute or two!"
"Severus, why in Merlin's name would you pursue Gilderoy to his office?" asked Lily in confusion. "Minerva, what's going on?"
Before she could answer, the fireplace burst into green flames, and immediately James Potter came through followed by three other aurors. "Nobody move!" Potter yelled. "Gilderoy Lockhart, you are under..." Potter stopped and scanned the room. "Arrest," he said in disappointment.
"James?!" Lily exclaimed, but Snape interrupted her before she could say anything more.
"He just left seconds ago, Potter," he said quickly. "On his way to his classroom or so he said."
"Right. Aurors with me. Everyone else, stay here!" The aurors left the Staff Room in pursuit while Lily and the other faculty members bombarded McGonagall and Snape with questions.
It had taken Harry and Theo nearly five minutes to open all the drawers to Lockhart's desk. Each one had been spell-locked with a different spell, which Harry thought was absurdly paranoid, even for a dark wizard and especially because there was nothing of interest in them. Just a grade book, attendance records, lesson plans, and several stacks of final papers that had already been turned in. And certainly nothing about Tom Riddle or the Heir of Slytherin.
Other than Lockhart's desk and chair, the room was fairly empty. All the student chairs and desks had been pushed to the sides in preparation for the Team Protector session which had been scheduled for Sunday afternoon but canceled after Dumbledore's petrification. The only other item of furniture in the room was the covered brass birdcage still full of Cornish Pixies that was situated next to the wall behind Lockhart's desk.
"Well, nothing out here," said Harry. "I guess we need to move on to his private quarters."
"Oh must you, Mr. Potter?" said a voice from the door. It was Lockhart, who was pointing his wand at the two of them. "Surely you've already invaded my privacy enough for one day. I'm almost inclined to award you House points for actually knowing the Charms to bypass my locking spells. But then, I'd have to dock you points as well for not anticipating that I'd added a personal alarm spell to my defense scheme since the last timesomeone broke into this room."
Lockhart sauntered around the side of the room, and Harry and Theo edged around the opposite direction in an effort to keep the desk between Lockhart and themselves.
"Was that you then also, Mr. Potter? Professor Snape seemed quite convinced that it was your brother who stole all those vials of Polyjuice Potion. He was very disappointed when I proved otherwise. What will he think when I bring you in as the culprit?"
Harry took a breath and decided to bluff his way out. "I imagine any anger towards me will be offset when I tell him that you're the Heir of Slytherin."
Lockhart paused and grinned. By this time they were still on opposite sides of the desk but now with the long side between them. "Me, Potter? You think I am the Heir of Slytherin?! What in Merlin's name leads you to that conclusion?"
"Well, for one thing, based on this school's history over the last few decades, 'the DADA instructor did it' is a reasonable starting point for any investigation. For another, I have reason to believe that Tom Marvolo Riddle is present in this school in some capacity, and the way I see it, you're pretty much the only one who could realistically be him in disguise."
Lockhart froze in surprise and then looked even more amused. "Ah, so not only am I the Heir of Slytherin, I'm also the elusive Tom Riddle come to Hogwarts for some nefarious purpose. That's actually a very amusing theory, albeit for reasons I'm afraid I cannot currently share with you."
At that, all three of them were distracted by the sounds of boots running down the hall nearby, and Harry took the opportunity to push both Theo and himself back against the wall while drawing his own wand. Then, to his complete surprise, his father burst into the room, wand drawn and with four aurors behind him. James Potter looked surprised to see him, but immediately focused his attention on Lockhart instead.
"Abbott, put a shield on the boys." One of the aurors directed a wand towards Harry and Theo and cast a Protego Shield over them. "It's okay, Harry. It's just for your protection. Gilderoy Lockhart, you're under arrest. Surrender your wand and come peacefully."
"Before I surrender anything, Potter, I would like to know what I am being charged with. For that matter, how are you lot even here to charge me? It was my understanding that aurors weren't permitted on the Hogwarts grounds for such purposes."
"Unfortunately for you, Lockhart, there's an exception for murder investigations."
"Oh yes, I do recall you mentioning that the last time you were here. And who is it I'm meant to have murdered?"
James's eyes narrowed angrily. "Whoever it was," thought Harry in surprise, "James Potter takes it personally."
"Does the name Lazarus White mean anything to you, Professor?" James said in a cold voice.
Lockhart's eyebrows rose slightly before he regained control of himself. "Should it?"
"Oh, I think so," James said harshly. "I've been studying you and your published works for a while now, though to be fair, it was Professor Snape who put me onto you. At first, all I could find was an odd and troubling coincidence. You see, over the course of your first four books, you described defeating or destroying a number of different dark creatures. It just so happens that for every such incident, there was always a report of someone in the region – an auror, a defense instructor, sometimes just some local witch or wizard with a history of heroism and civic responsibility – but always someone who had been working to defeat those creatures only to show up later suffering from retrograde amnesia. And always around the same time as your own 'heroic feats.' In fact, for three of those victims, it was total retrograde amnesia, a complete and irreversible erasure of the person's former personality and past."
"That is an odd coincidence, Auror Potter, but I'm still not hearing anything about a murder."
The other aurors were fanning out to flank Lockhart while Potter kept him talking. Abbott moved closer to Theo and Harry while still maintaining a Protego over them, ready to usher them out of the room the instant things went hot.
"Well you see, Lockhart, that takes us to your fifth book, Wanderings with Werewolves in which you supposedly killed the werewolf who responsible for the Wagga Wagga Massacre of 1985. Lazarus White was a highly respected and skilled young auror with the Australian DMLE whose entire family was slaughtered in that attack. He survived ... until you showed up looking to interview him about his experiences. Next thing you know, he's vanished never to be seen again, and you're writing a heavily edited book about how you killed the Wagga Wagga werewolf all by yourself. What happened, Lockhart? Was a trained battle-hardened auror too much for you? So you had to kill him instead of just stealing his memories of slaying the werewolves? And I guess after that, you learned to cover your tracks better?"
To James's mounting rage, Lockhart actually laughed. "Oh, Potter, so full of righteous indignation over half-formed theories. Such a Gryffindor you are! Do you actually have any evidence to support these slanderousaccusations?"
"I have enough for Veritaserum, Lockhart. Now, will you come along peacefully? Or will you make things difficult? Because I strongly suspect you murdered a brother auror and you mind-assaulted Merlin knows how many other heroes. So honestly? I kind of hope you resist."
Lockhart threw his head back and gave out another "ha-Ha!" Then, in a blur of motion, he lashed out, casually flicking his wand towards Abbot and banishing him into his own Protego spell. The shield collapsed immediately, and the stunned auror fell to the ground between Theo and Harry, knocking them both aside. The attack in his son's direction distracted James for just a second as he looked over to Harry in concern. The remaining aurors sent stunners towards Lockhart but were shocked when he casually batted them aside. On the floor over by the wall, Harry quietly cast the Averto Shield spell on his own wand.
Then, Lockhart waved his wand towards his heavy desk, which suddenly flew through the air towards James Potter. By that point, James had recovered from his momentary surprise and instantly transfigured the desk into a flock of butterflies which flew up harmlessly towards the ceiling. But then, he realized that the desk attack was only a feint, as Lockhart had ducked under another auror's attack spell, dropped to one knee, and waved his wand in a wide arc.
"ACCIO FURNITURE!" Instantly, all the desks and chairs that had been pushed up against the back wall slid quickly and violently towards Lockhart knocking most of the aurors to the ground. James reacted faster than the rest though and threw himself over the sliding furniture to land in a crouching position. To his surprise though, Lockhart had already moved on to casting his next spell, and to his horror, James knew what that spell was.
"LOCKHART! NO!" he cried out and tried desperately to get a stunner off but the furniture blocked him. As Potter was desperately trying to get off a clean shot, Lockhart whirled his wand arm in a wide circle over his head. From where Harry sat, it looked as though Lockhart's eyes were lit up with delirious madness.
"FIENDFYRE!" he cried out in exultation before slashing his wand down almost to the floor.
And then, Hell came to Hogwarts.
Harry had a brief impression of a portal opening up to ... somewhere else. Then, an unnatural fire poured out of that opening, one that looked like lava only no longer bound by gravity, and along with the hellfire came incoherent screams that filled Harry with dread. Screams of fury and terror and above all jubilation over the opportunity to feed and burn. Lockhart gestured wildly with his arms, splaying them out in opposite directions, and in response, the hellish fire shot out both to the left and the right of the man until they formed a wall of flame separating Lockhart from his attackers.
On the right side of the room, Harry saw the hellfire heading in his general direction, although it appeared that it would not strike him nor Theo nor the stunned auror. He blinked twice and dilated his perceptions before spending two beats of his heart considering his options. Then, he cast a quick Levitation Charm and used it to propel Theo and Abbot even farther from the hellfire even as he flung himself in the opposite direction just as the flames reached the wall.
"HARRY!" Theo screamed as the young Slytherin was now alone with Lockhart on one side of the infernal flames while Theo and the aurors were stuck on the other side. James was horrified by the development and furiously cast a bludgeoning curse towards Lockhart only to see it consumed by the laughing flames.
For his part, Harry ignored everything except Professor Lockhart and pointed his wand in the other man's direction. "LACERO." Harry practically whispered the curse hoping that Lockhart wouldn't hear and realize what spell he was using, and he aimed close to the ground, hoping it was too low for Lockhart to parry with his own Averto. Harry's gambit succeeded as the Cutting Curse shot towards the man and sliced the back of his hamstring before he could dodge. Lockhart screamed and dropped to one knee. But before Harry could press his advantage, Lockhart lashed out with his wand again, this time targeting the Cornish Pixie cage which flew across the room to crash land right in front of Harry.
The boy had just a moment of panic as the entire swarm broke free and went after him in a frenzy, but then he collected himself and cast the Vestamentarum shield as he'd learned all those months ago. Immediately, all the attacking pixies shied away after a few hits on his electrified personal body armor. He climbed to his feet and made his way easily through the cloud of pixies. Lockhart was still limping from the Cutting Curse and had just made his way up the small staircase to the door of his private quarters. Harry fired off two more Cutting Curses, but Lockhart parried both before escaping into the other room. Harry muttered a mild profanity and then turned to look at the wall of Fiendfyre which now reached up to the ceiling and completely blocked off the other half of the room. He thought he could hear James and Theo calling for him, but their voices were distorted eerily by the flames, and Harry was disturbed to see angry bestial faces appearing within the fire and then receding back into it.
The boy knew little of Fiendfyre. It was considered very dark and almost always led to a stretch in Azkaban unless used for some legitimate purpose (which was narrowly defined). Unless suppressed magically, it would burn for days, and if allowed to run free it would actively pursue living targets out of a quasi-sentient desire to burn them to death. Then, Harry paled. "Lockhart's left the room and is likely trying to flee Hogwarts," he thought with a sudden stab of fear. "Which means that he might surrender control of the Fiendfyre at any moment!" Concluding that Lockhart probably couldn't do anything to him that was worse than burning to death, Harry darted up the steps after the fleeing man.
Immediately upon crossing the threshold, Harry had to duck out of the way of a Disarming Charm. The boy and his former teacher then engaged in a duel that onlookers would have considered quite impressive if rather brief and with a predictable outcome. After ten seconds of furious spellcasting and parrying, Harry dodged a Jelly-Legs Jinx only to step onto a small Persian rug. Lockhart lashed out with a silent Summoning Charm that targeted the rug and caused it to fly out from underneath's Harry's feet and dump him flat onto his back.
"EXPELLIARMUS. INCARCEROUS." Two quick spells later, and Harry was disarmed and bound on the floor with Lockhart holding the boy's wand. He examined it briefly and then tossed it onto the nearby bed before pointing his wand at the still-open door. "COLLOPORTUS TRIMENDIUM." There was a flash of light on the outer threshold of the door before the door itself slammed shut with great force. Then, dozens of locks appeared all around the door frame which then connected themselves to one another with a web of heavy chains. Finally, there was a flash of light to indicate a magical barrier on the interior of the room.
"If I am still allowed to give points, Mr. Potter, then take five for Slytherin House. You performed admirably and have clearly learned a great deal this year. There is no shame in losing to a much more experienced opponent, particularly when you have had no opportunity to plan ahead. And especially when your opponent is also your combat magic instructor.
"What are you doing?!" exclaimed Harry angrily as he struggled in his bonds.
"Escaping, Mr. Potter. Even after the aurors get past the Fiendfyre, they must still get through the Colloportus Trimendium. The Three-Fold Locking spell, one of the most complicated door-sealing wards I know of. It is very unlikely that your father will get through that door before I exit the stage with my usual dramatic flair."
"No, not... I mean why have you been doing all the things you've been doing. The petrifications. The ... other stuff. Why?!"
Lockhart shrugged with a cheery smile. "Why ask why, Mr. Potter? Perhaps its as the Bard said. 'In this, though I cannot be said to be a flattering honest man, it must not be denied but I am a plain-dealing villain.' You know, for a Muggle, Old Billy Shakespeare really had a way with words. ha-Ha!" And then, to Harry's amazement, Lockhart's annoying laugh continued until it became a deranged cackle. "AH-HA, HA-HA-HA, BWA-HA-HA!"
Harry shook his head as if to clear it. The man's behavior was becoming so bizarre, so out of step with his carefully constructed image, that Harry wondered briefly if one or both of them had gotten a concussion during their earlier duel. Then, Harry's attention was refocused by the enormous BOOM caused by the sealed door to the room being blasted off its hinges to land on the floor.
"Harry!" James yelled almost in a panic. But then, as he tried to enter the room, there was a flash of light, and he was repelled by the last layer of the Three-Fold Locking Spell. He pounded on the barrier impotently with his fist. "Proudfoot! Savage! Get this last ward down, NOW! Harry! Are you okay, son?!"
"I'm okay... for the moment, I guess!"
"Your precious spawn is fine, Potter. I've already had enough fun trying to kill him for one year!"
Harry's head whipped around back towards the DADA instructor at that comment. "What?!"
"Yes, you fools! It was I! I was the one who petrified those students and then Dumbledore! I was the one responsible for locker room prank that led to Harry Potter and his Quidditch team-mates nearly dying of exposure! Iwas the one who used the Imperius Curse on Fred Weasley to force him to cover for me! I did it all! BWA-HA-HA!"
As the aurors renewed their efforts to get through the final ward, Harry could only stare goggle-eyed and open-mouthed at the DADA instructor, who was once again laughing maniacally.
"WHAT?!" he finally shouted in complete consternation. "But ... why? Why in Merlin's name would you have done all that!?"
"Forget it, Potter," Lockhart spat. "Your pitiful mind cannot comprehend the intricacies of my diabolical genius!"
With that, he turned around to face two large trunks which Harry had not noticed before now and shrank them down small enough to fit into his pockets. As he did, Harry noticed that the man had somehow found the time to heal the cut on his leg and repair the corresponding cut to his trousers. He turned to face Harry once more with a far more relaxed expression.
"Still, fair is fair, I suppose," he said with astonishing reasonableness considering how he'd just been ranting. "Let me assure you, Harry Potter, that I was not the person who tried to kill you with the cursed Bludgers during your first Quidditch match, nor was I responsible for the attempts on your life last summer. It appears you have someone else who wants you dead as well. Good luck with that."
And with that, he whirled around and pointed his wand at the windows on the other side of the room. "BOMBARDA!" There was a tremendous CRASH as the windows exploded outwards. Then, Lockhart snatched up a broom that was laying on the bed next to Harry's wand (and which Harry had also not noticed before now) and strode over to the now open windows.
"You may have defeated me this time, Potters! But I shall return AND WREAK MY VENGEANCE! BWA-HA-HA!" As he laughed, the Professor raised his fist and shook it menacingly towards the astonished boy. Then, he mounted his broom and took off out the open window just as the aurors dismantled the last ward and James Potter nearly fell into the room. James ran over to the window but then cursed loudly as Lockhart was already too far away to target with a spell. He turned back towards Harry, dispelled the boy's magical bonds, and then swept him up into a bone-crushing embrace.
"Harry! Are you okay?! Did that bastard do anything to you?!"
Harry leaned back and stared up into his father's eyes as he tried to process everything that had just happened.
"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!" he yelled in utter frustration.
While James Potter seemed incredibly relieved that Harry was safe, his relief did not extend to bailing the boy (or his friend Theo) out of trouble. For being out of bounds during a lock-down situation and for interfering with an auror investigation, Harry and Theo were each docked twenty-five points and assigned two weeks of detentions, split between cleaning the now demolished DADA classroom (without magic!) and helping Professor Sprout with the final preparations for harvesting the Mandrakes.
As frustrating as it was, Harry couldn't complain. Plenty of others did, though, as the loss of fifty points knocked the Slytherins all the way down to third place in the House Cup, though they were still far ahead of the hapless Gryffindors. The day had somehow become a replay of the previous year's disaster with Quirrell. Only then, Harry had understood what was happening and been not been the one responsible for cocking up Dumbledore's overcomplicated plan for catching Voldemort. That had been Jim's job instead. This year, however, Harry was the one who had been out of the loop and consequently the one to ruin everything. By attempting to break into Lockhart's office and then setting off his alarm, Harry was responsible for drawing Lockhart away from the Staff Office (where he'd likely have been arrested without incident) and to the DADA classroom (where the aurors found him with his wand already drawn and with two stupid little Second Years to serve as potential hostages). Granted, the school was no longer in danger of closure, and after Harry and James each presented memory-testimonies of Lockhart's confession, the suspension of Fred Weasley would be overturned. But on the whole, it had been a very bad day.
The Prince's Lair
10:00 p.m.
Later that night, Harry was still upset, even more so after he returned to the Lair to discover that the Hydra still wouldn't talk to him. He sat in his chair at the table brooding with Theo and Blaise sitting across from him.
"I just don't understand what Lockhart hoped to accomplish," Harry said tiredly.
"Well," said Blaise. "Look on the bright side. You were right from the start. Lockhart was the bad guy. You get bragging rights for that at least."
"I knew he was untrustworthy," Harry said irritably. "But I never imagined that he would turn into ... whatever that was supposed to be. A cackling loon?"
"Harry," said Theo, who had been listening to variations on this for hours. "Let it go."
"HE SAID 'BWA-HA-HA!'" Harry shouted, startling the other two boys. "Who does that?! No one in real life goes into a rant and laughs 'BWA-HA-HA'!? People don't even do that in books anymore! Only in very old movies where the villain is a cartoon character who fights Flash Gordon or some other rubbish like that!"
Blaise sighed. "Well, did he say anything else? You know, other than BWA-HA-HA?"
"He didn't have time. I got in the room. We dueled for maybe fifteen seconds before he disarmed and bound me. Then, he only had about ten seconds to gloat before my father blew in the door."
Harry looked up and noticed that Theo was staring at him wide-eyed.
"What?" he asked.
"Harry?" Theo said very quietly. "I was in the DADA classroom the whole time. It took your father and the other aurors at least three minutes to get the Fiendfyre under control before they could even get to the door, and then another minute or so getting through the first layer of wards. You must have been alone with Lockhart for ... I don't know. Four minutes? Maybe longer?"
Harry stared at his friend for several seconds. "What?" he asked once again, this time in a leaden voice.
Suddenly, Theo reached into his pocket and pulled out the Nott Family Remembrall which he tossed to Harry who caught it easily. The second it touched his hand, the device turned a vivid ... blue.
"Okay," Harry said with exaggerated calm. "That's new."
"Red is for erased or altered memories caused by the original Memory Charm spells," said Blaise as he walked around the Hydra to stand over Harry. As Blaise spoke, Harry remembered that the other boy had spent the whole year on Team Recall learning about memory-altering spells. "Blue, on the other hand, represents the more modern Memory Lock series of spells."
Zabini waved his wand over the Remembrall in an intricate pattern, and several ghostly runes appeared above it. The boy studied them for a second with a worried expression on this face.
"Harry," he said, "according to the Remembrall, earlier today you had four minutes and twenty-three seconds of your memories locked away." He took a deep breath. "And you voluntarily consented to the procedure."
Harry stared at Blaise for several seconds, and then said the only thing he could think to say, the word that summed up this entire afternoon.
"... what?"