Chương 20: Chapter 20 Werewolves? Where Wolves?
That afternoon Gilderoy had a short meeting with Harry. He had called the boy out of Gryffindor Tower and walked him a short way up the corridor before setting silencing charms. He was pleased to note that Harry's old hand-me-downs were long gone, and the boy was taking a bit more pride in his appearance and walking with confidence instead of that furtive crouch and sticking to the edges of the corridors he had had at the beginning of the year.
He explained, briefly, what had happened in the Headmaster's Office and why Ron and Ginny had so mysteriously been called to the Headmaster's office. That they would be out of the school for a few days as they dealt with the issues brought about by Pettigrew's discovery. He went on to point out how the startling event at dinner was going to affect Harry's future.
"You see Mr. Potter, now that the truth is known, Mr. Sirius Black will be given a trial — as Lord Black, I promise he will! I will free him from Azkaban, but it will have its implications upon you, especially as he is your godfather.
"For all these years people thought your godfather was the one who betrayed your parents to Voldewhore. The Aurors caught him the very day you arrived at your relatives, at the scene of a great explosion that killed twelve Muggles. They thought that he had also killed Peter Pettigrew. The reason for that was that the surviving witnesses told a tale of how Peter accused your godfather of betraying your parents and killing them, then there was this great explosion, and all that was found of Peter was a single finger.
"But nobody ever checked the facts. Nobody ever questioned the implausibility of only finding a finger after a great explosion. Nobody ever asked Sirius Black what had happened. Everyone just assumed he was guilty, so they sent him to prison. Remember this for the future, Harry, the Ministry is not your friend, they will never act in the best interests of the public, only in their own self-interest and who provides the most bribes. Just look at all the Death Eaters who escaped punishment after the war.
"But now we know the truth.
"I am very sorry that you have to hear the terrible things that happened to your parents all over again. To know that the traitor was in the same room with you most of the time here at Hogwarts must be sickening. But you should know that if Sirius Black, as your Godfather, asks for his right to act as your regent until you reach your majority, you may have to go live with him.
"Your emancipation as Lord Potter does give you many rights, but if he was selected by your parents as your godfather, then he does have the right to review your decisions to make sure you aren't making any gross mistakes or squandering property and money through ignorance or ill-thought plans.
"You might have to face the awful choice of choosing between who you are staying with, the Dursleys, or Mr. Black. It would be terrible for you, I'm sure, but I think, if presented properly before the Wizenmaggots, they would remove you from the Dursleys and force you to live with your godfather. But I promise to pay you a visit wherever you are. And, if you want, for the time being we can neglect to tell your godfather of your other Lordships. That would be a great prank, wouldn't it?
"Now, you and your friends need not serve detentions for a week. Seeing that you have a Quidditch match against Slytherin very soon, use the time well." Lockhart said to Harry Potter.
(◎_◎)
The following Wednesday Harry paced in his office, furious. He had been so pleased that he had successfully diverted attention from the diary, transferring the blame for the "attacks" on Mrs. Norris and Colin to Peter Pettigrew. No one but the Headmaster knew that Peter was innocent of controlling the Basilisk, but he daren't say a word or it would reveal he had known about the Basilisk and the diary's possession of Ginny and the fact that he knew Peter was hiding with the Weasley's all those years. Not to mention that he hadn't done anything to protect the students from what he knew was a deadly threat. No, the Headmaster had to go along with the story, in fact, promote the story, or look like a senile old fool at best or a Dark Wizard at worst.
As it was, he had taken quite a few lumps in the press as they blasted his not knowing about Peter being in his Castle for the last five years. But for the Headmaster that was better than the alternative!
In fact, in view of his tenure as D.A.D.A. Professor this year and his newly discovered access to the Castle protective enchantments, what he had discovered about Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore made him quite angry. The old Wizard had known far more about what was going on in the Castle than Harry had ever conceived. The more he considered his years at the school, the more certain he became that Albus had been the worst sort of manipulator. Especially as he was the only Wizard Harry knew who had four names before his surname. He had to have invented them himself to make himself look more important, as neither his father, brother, or sister had had so many names. And why would a parent lavish all those names on one child but not the others?
Dumbledore's excuses in Fifth Year for not warning Harry about Voldewhore planting visions and reading his mind were laughable. He had known what might happen. Certainly, Snape's attempts to teach him occlumency had been a joke and only made him far more susceptible to a mind attack. All it would have taken was one simple note dropped on his pillow by a house-elf to explain the old goat-shagger's reasons for his avoidance.
And looking back at his first year? The clues fell into his lap. Every time he thought he was hopelessly confused, something happened to clear up the confusion. And the traps! They took no time at all for Quirrell to conquer once he got past Fluffy. And that had slowed the Wizard down only because he hadn't wanted to be obvious when he started his assault for the Stone. That three First Year students could solve the puzzles proved how ineffectual they were. Either the Wizard was senile, or it had all been nothing more than a rat's maze to test Harry. And Harry now figured it was the second choice.
And Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth, and Sixth Years had been the same. The old Wizard had led Harry around by the nose, kept him in the dark and prevented him from doing anything effective, dropping clues when and where Albus wanted. Had he been hoping Harry would die along the way? Flush Voldewhore out, have him waste energy fighting Harry, and then Albus the Great would step in and save the day?
Well, the Deathly Hallows stone sure put paid to the old fart's plans, didn't it do just that! And suddenly there was a real danger that everything would fall apart. But the secretive arse still didn't seem to care, neglecting to teach Harry anything valuable. Did he want Voldewhore to win when he realized he was going to die instead of living to control the Wizarding World in the U.K. as he had always planned?
Harry had concluded Dumbledore was an enemy back at the start of April when he refused to share what he suspected about the horcruxes.
And now this! That idiot Fudge had grabbed the quaffle and instead of freeing Sirius Black, had arrested Hagrid! Somehow, that twit's miniscule brain had decided the little play in the Headmaster's office was a mistake, that that hadn't been Peter Pettigrew. He had concocted some strange scenario in his head where it hadn't been Peter in the Headmaster's office but someone polyjuiced as him! Never mind they had several eyewitnesses to his unveiling as an animagus. Never mind he had been in the sight of half a dozen Professors the entire time afterwards. Never mind that you can't create a polyjuice potion using a dead man as a source. Never mind no one even knew where to find anything that would provide a source to create a polyjuiced Peter. Never mind that you can't polyjuice an animagus to appear as anyone except himself when he changes into a human.
Harry wondered if maybe the Headmaster had suggested the idiotic idea to Fudge.
Arrrgh! Harry was almost literally pulling his hair out. Fleecem, Cheatem, and Beatem had already started a full frontal assault on the incompetent dweeb. With the money he was throwing at the Wizenmaggots Fudge wouldn't last a week. But a week was an eternity in Azkaban.
And Harry, Neville, and Hermione! Just as he had done in his Second Year, they would follow the great oaf's clues in an attempt to prove him innocent and end up in the Forbidden Forest facing off with Aragog and his children! And if Gilderoy told them everything was under control, they would ignore him as Harry always ignored adults. To hope he had gained the little Wizard's trust was too much. Hermione might trust him more than any other Wizarding adult, but she wouldn't be able to convince Harry, not after the continual bashing by Snape, the way McGonagall had blown him off in first year, and all the other professors turning a blind eye to the awful things happening to the little Wizard.
Plus, this was the one time Harry/Gilderoy wished Ron would accompany Harry. Fortunately, their friendship had fallen to the point where if Hermione was involved he wanted nothing to do with them. Instead, the arachnophobe would hide in his bed.
The spiders did not know that the Basilisk was gone, the scent of the snake was strong throughout the Castle and it would take months to air it out. In the meantime, the spiders infesting the Castle were making their treks to the Forbidden Forrest as its scent reached them and drove them out. Or the egg cases hatched and the tiny spiders detected the Basilisk scent for the first time.
Harry/Gilderoy would have to double his charms on the group to prevent them heading out without his supervision. Hmm. Now that he thought about it, this would be a fine time to do a little clean-up in the Forest and make it somewhat less Forbidden.
(◎_⊙)
Harry/Gilderoy happened to look out the window towards Hagrid's Hut as he was patrolling the seventh floor a week later and was just in time to see three figures and a large dog disappear into the Forbidden Forest.
Damnit! Hermione was getting too good at finding and removing his alert and tracking charms. He took off at a dead run for his office. He paused only long enough to grab his broom and then he was flying out the window, around the Castle, and soon over the forest. For a moment, he thought he saw something moving below him, but when he looked, he saw nothing unusual — and especially not the children.
He held up his wand and said, "Point-me Harry Potter." It quickly indicated the direction he should go and he took off after them again. He had lost precious time running in the Castle, and if he remembered correctly, they were probably already in the claws of Aragog's offspring. Last time, it had been just Fang, him, and Ron, this time it was Fang, Neville, Hermione, and Harry. And Gilderoy wasn't sure if the additional third person might affect the outcome of their frantic escape.
The gibbous moon provided enough light to make it easy to spot the centre of the Acromantula nest in the hollow, the dead trees and webbing strung everywhere were a silent but highly visible giveaway. He halted above where he thought the children were and listened closely using a hearing enhancement charm. He could faintly hear Harry's voice and the clicking from Aragog's. He moved until he was directly over them.
"We'll just go, then," he heard Harry call desperately to Aragog.
That was his cue. He pulled his wand and pointed to the side of where he estimated the children were huddled. "Incendio," he cried pushing the biggest possible flame he could from his wand. It was like a giant flamethrower, a swath of flames easily ten feet wide splashed to the ground. The dry webbing and long dead trees went up in blaze of fire, rapidly spreading as the fire used the webbing to leap from dead tree to dead tree. He swung his arm in an arc, putting a flaming semi-circular barrier between the children and Aragog, and most of the spiders as well. The spiders screamed and scrambled away from the conflagration, all thought of the chasing the children and dog driven from their minds by the directive for self-preservation. Even the spiders behind them were beginning to flee.
He heard the long lonely sound of a car horn echoing up from the hollow, the headlights almost unneeded in the glare of the swiftly spreading fire. He sent a second blast of flames alongside of where the children were running. While that might drive a few spiders into their path, the Weasleys' former car would easily plough through them on the way out. The rest were scrabbling frantically to run away from the wall of fire, which the children and car were skirting.
In the meantime, he shot over to the opposite side of the hollow and began a circle around the perimeter, lying down a curtain of fire and trapping the fleeing spiders between the fire at the centre of the hollow and the one at the perimeter. Aragog, he was sure, would hide and survive in his cave, but the vast majority of the spiders would perish in the flames, he hoped. At the very least, he would decimate the horde.
Before he could complete more than half of his circuit, the entire hollow was an inferno. And he had caught a large percentage of the spiders in the blaze, easily half of them. He turned and headed back to the Castle, the glow of the fire lighting the sky behind him. It would take a long time for the spiders to regroup and recover — spiders store their egg cases in their webbing, and the fire had destroyed all the webbing.
He managed to arrive at the edge of the Forest nearest Hagrid's hut just as the car did. He watched, amused, as Fang practically flew to the hut as he exited the car and ran. He was much less amused when he saw several figures rise up from the cover at the edge of the Forest and grab the three children as they tried to follow Fang while the car took off back into the forest. From their stealthy actions, it was clear the attackers were up to no good.
He quickly fired a series of stunners, hoping they wouldn't not notice until it was too late. Unfortunately, although he did hit one of their number, the others nimbly dodged out of the way. It was interesting that none of them made an effort to ennervate their fallen comrade or responded with magical spells.
"Try that again and we'll kill them," called a voice from the group. "Try to escape and we'll do the same."
Interesting, they still weren't trying to hit him with any spells. Harry/Gilderoy drifted down to the ground and closer, stopping only a dozen feet away from the group.
They spread out, four men it seemed; three were each holding one of the children. Harry was the farthest to the right, then Hermione, and then Neville. The fourth man stood to the side of the man holding Harry.
Under the cover of getting off the broom, Gilderoy cast a quick serpensortia spell at his left hand and called forth a coral snake, catching the small snake on his broom by his hand. A second wandless silent spell from his left hand magnified the potency of the snake's venom by a hundred — what would normally take forty-five minutes to take man down to a coma would now do so in less than thirty seconds, incoherency and loss of muscle control would set in in less than ten seconds.
While the apparent leader said, "If you come quietly, we shan't kill you," Harry/Gilderoy hissed quietly under his breath to the snake §Get close and attack the man with the girl when I say the word NOW.§ He dropped the broom, and the snake, to the ground.
"You can't escape, you know," he said in a conversational tone, as if they were discussing the weather.
"Professor . . . ." started Hermione, clearly recognizing his voice, but the man holding her jerked her up, cutting her off and showing Gilderoy the knife at her neck.
"Hogwarts' protective enchantments prevent portkeys and apparition," Harry/Gilderoy continued blandly, ignoring her outburst. "And if you harm any of those three, you will take a long time to die. Why don't you just let them go, and I'll let you walk out of here alive."
It had been at least a few years since he had last dealt with a hostage situation, but the tactics were easy to remember.
It was dark, moonlight notwithstanding, and even he had a hard time seeing the small snake as it slithered through the high-cut grass here at the edge of the forest.
"Professor?" said one of the men to the others.
"Which one are you?" demanded their leader, the voice he had heard first. The one holding Harry.
He said, "What?!" Acting offended and sweeping his right hand, he silently conjured another coral snake in his left, also amplifying its venom's potency. Their eyes would follow his moving hand and not notice his left behind him, hiding any slight flashes of light. "You don't recognize me?" He shook his head and pretended to be laughing ruefully while hissing, §Attack the man holding the boy farthest on the left when I say the word NOW.§ Then he dropped the snake.
"Why, I am Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award, Slayer of Basilisks, and Hogwarts' beloved Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor. To truly appreciate what that means, I suggest you read my books. You can start with 'Break with a Banshee' and then read 'Gadding with Ghouls.' In fact, if you release those three children right now I will be happy to give each of you a complete and personally autographed set of all my books, including my latest when it is released later this year, 'Burrowing with a Basilisk.' I'll even include some autographed photos for your lady friends." He paused, as if waiting for them to accept his generous offer. "It is much better to read about my great exploits than to be involved in them, I assure you. Those that become involved usually have very bad endings."
The four men stared at him blankly, before breaking into laughter.
Their leader said, "Actually, you're just the man we want. Tell you what we'll do. You drop your wand right there, and your holdout, and come over here. We'll set these kids free as soon as we secure your hands." The lone man pulled a rope out of his cloak pocket.
It was too bad that no one had ever told the kids the best way to deal with being a hostage — to faint! Trying to hold up and use an unconscious hostage as a shield is almost impossible, as anyone who has ever tried to support a passed-out drunk will attest. Even with kids, it was like trying to lift a child-sized water balloon.
Harry/Gilderoy looked at them, puzzled. What the bloody hell did they want with him? "Why, gentlemen, if you had wanted an interview all you had to do was contact my agent and he would gleefully have set it up for you at the earliest opportunity. There is no need for all this drama!" He tried to project the air of a celebrity delighted to meet a fan in an unusual situation. "Well, I suppose now that we are all here, perhaps you could tell me what this is about?" And he gave them one of Gilderoy's brilliant smiles.
"Not going to happen. Drop your wands and get over here or the kid gets cut," the man shifted slightly so Gilderoy could see his blade glint in the moonlight.
Gilderoy saw Hermione startle. The first snake had arrived and apparently decided to use the girl as a climbing post to get a bit closer to his target. Her captor gripped her tight and said, "Stop wriggling or I might accidentally cut your throat."
Gilderoy sighed as if much put upon and not realizing the deadly seriousness of the four assailants. "Well," he said lightly, "if you insist." He made a production out of reaching down to his leg and pulling out his second wand, leaving him with a wand in each hand. He placed both wands in his right hand. Then he started walking towards the leader.
"No, professor!" came the exclamation from Neville. "Shut up," came the immediate gruff response. He gasped as his captor did something.
Gilderoy looked up. "Tut, tut, we'll have none of that, my good man," he said. He held his wands by their middles.
The leader spoke up quickly. "No closer! Throw the wands over there!"
Gilderoy stopped and placed his hands on his hips. "Make up your mind! Come here, don't come here, drop the wands, toss the wands. Are you sure you should be in charge?"
The leader growled — aha! — he was a werewolf! That made things simpler. He didn't have to worry about wands.
He smiled at the leader. Then he threw the two wands in a long arc to his right. At the same time he hissed §NOW! § The leader's gaze followed the wands. He jerked his attention to his accomplices as two screamed. One yelled, "Shite! Something bit me!" The other just cussed loudly.
The werewolf watched his companions as one grabbed his neck, the other his hand. A long thin rope-like object dangled from each.
In that instant, Gilderoy disapparated to behind the man. He fired off a reducto into the middle of his spine. The werewolf collapsed like a puppet with the strings cut. He knocked Harry down in the process. Harry hit the ground, but rolled away immediately. The fourth man belatedly realized Gilderoy had moved. He jumped forward. He managed to dodge the stunner from Harry's right hand. Then he dodged one of the two simultaneous reductoes Harry then sent. The second caved in his chest. Harry spun to check on the students. They were all standing and pointing their wands at their former captors.
"Excellent show, children!" Gilderoy said. Then he cast quick stunning and binding curses at all five assailants, using both hands. The students were quick to notice him using his hands with no wands in sight.
Neville and Hermione both had taken advantage of their captors shock at being bitten and escaped without injury, except for an accidental shallow cut on their necks from the knives. Hermione had stomped on the man's foot while Neville had just spun away. The two werewolves, though, were already incoherent from the poison and would be comatose in under a minute. Without immediate medical assistance, they would be dead in ten minutes.
"Accio my wands," Harry said, catching them as they flew to him. He turned to the two students. "Mr. Longbottom, Miss Granger, are you all right?"
"I think so," Hermione said shakily, Neville echoing her a moment later.
"Check each other for cuts, the spell is episkey while concentrating on healing the cuts. Repeat as often as necessary." He was walking over to check on Harry as he said this. He heard them saying lumos. Harry was unharmed, standing, and holding his wand on the prone werewolf.
"Excellent, excellent," Harry/Gilderoy said. "You all did an admirable job not panicking and keeping your wits about you!" He walked back to the erstwhile leader of the kidnapers and flipped him over. He didn't recognize the man. He heard a set of episkeys in the background.
"Miksy!"
"Miksy comes when called, Professor Defender."
Sigh, ever since he had dispatched the Basilisk, and the Sorting Hat gave him the Sword of Gryffindor, the House-elves had started calling him the Defender of Hogwarts. It was all a bit much, coming from them, because he knew they truly meant it. He couldn't tell them to stop, they would be deeply hurt — and they wouldn't stop doing it anyway.
"Would you be so kind as to bring me my veritaserum from my office?" The house-elf vanished.
"Did you apparate? You can't have apparated!" exclaimed Hermione, coming over to Harry and Gilderoy with Neville following. "No one can apparate on Hogwarts' grounds."
Gilderoy grinned broadly, "Of course, I didn't apparate, Miss Granger. Everyone knows that Hogwarts' protective enchantments prevent both apparition and portkeys." Unless you are the one controlling the protective enchantments, that is. Forestalling her barrage of questions on what he did do, he said, "The experienced fighter that I am with years of dealing with dangerous creatures, my reflexes are such that I moved so quickly that it merely looked like I apparated."
She closed her mouth. He could see her frown clearly in the moonlight. She couldn't really argue with him, though, he had agreed with her. But nobody could move that fast, so he had to apparate, but he said he hadn't . . . .
It was like watching someone work through the logic of the statement, "I never tell the truth."
The little Wizards looked worried. They were sure that they were about to get into a ton of trouble for being outside after curfew, and in the Forbidden Forest to boot. Hermione's logic puzzle kept her distracted. She would panic later.
Miksy returned at that instant and held out the vial of veritaserum.
Gilderoy kneeled beside the semi-paralysed werewolf and, after forcing his mouth open, carefully placed three drops in the creature's mouth. Then he ennervated him.
"What is your name?"
"Fenrir Greyback," came the somewhat snarled reply. He must be truly enraged to get that much emotion into his reply. Or maybe it was his nature as a werewolf coming through
"Why were you here?"
"I came to kill Gilderoy Lockhart."
Gilderoy exchanged surprised glances with the three students.
"Why?"
"The Carrows think you arranged Malfoy's troubles and exposed Macnair and two others in the Ministry."
"Why did you grab these kids?"
"I thought I could use them to get you out of the Castle to the Forest, where we would ambush and kill you. Five werewolves can easily take out a Wizard."
"What would you have done with them afterwards?"
"Had a bit of fun with the girl, then eat them."
"What are the names of all the Death Eaters you know?"
It was a short list and added no names he didn't already know. Gilderoy re-stunned the werewolf.
Harry looked at him questioningly.
"Children," Gilderoy said quietly, "These men are the worst sort imaginable. You heard what these men planned to do. Do you think they would have not done what they had planned if I hadn't subdued them?" The three slowly shook their heads. "Fenrir has a large bounty on his head," the older Wizard continued. "He is responsible for the deaths of dozens of children and turning scores of others into werewolves so he can add them to his army. He is wanted dead or alive. Do not concern yourselves with what has happened to these parodies of humans, you are blameless and they are not. Unlike many werewolves, they chose to be evil. They will never be able to bother you, or any others, again, that I swear." They stared at him silently.
"By the way," he added, "If I were to officially report these men to the Headmaster, your other adventure tonight might come to light and complicate your lives more than they are now. You have enough detentions already, Harry. Any more and Hermione will have to draw up a colour-coded schedule just so we can figure a way to leave you time to sleep!" Hermione huffed while the other two boys tried to hide grins.
He looked over the three students. "I think it is well past your bedtime. I think you should retrieve your cloak from Hagrid's Hut, Mr. Potter," — that got a long narrow-eyed look from the boy — "and all of you go to bed after a nice hot shower. I will take care of these men and deliver them to the Ministry. Now, go, shoo!" He made hurrying motions with his hands.
The children slowly started off. "Oh, by the way," he called out, "I will ensure that Hagrid will return to us forthwith, you needn't worry about it too much. I already have my solicitors savaging Minister Fudge for his precipitous actions. He will not be Minister for long, just you watch!"
Harry waved an arm in acknowledgement and turned back towards Hagrid's Hut.
Gilderoy sighed.
§Are my friends still here?§ he called out in Parseltongue, startling the three into looking back at him. "Ah," he called out to them, "if you could keep it secret that I am a Parselmouth, I would appreciate it. As you can see, it makes for a powerful weapon if your enemy is unaware."
§Yes, Speaker, I am still here,§ came the twin answers.
The children resumed their march to bed.
Gilderoy said softly, so Harry wouldn't here, §Excellent, would you be so kind as to bite the bound up men several times each?§
§Yes, Speaker.§ §With pleasure, Speaker,§ came the twin answers.
§And when you're done, make yourselves at home in the Forest, just never bite a student.§
§Yes, Speaker, I can do that,§ they each answered.
Gilderoy stopped and thought a moment, then conjured up a couple of fat rats from the Hogwarts' kitchens. "And here are two nice, juicy rats for your hard work this night." He laid the stunned rats beside Greyback.
Surprised, the two snakes replied, §Thank you, Speaker.§
"And that was the most fun I've had in a thousand years," said Sam, the name Harry/Gilderoy had decided to call the Sorting Hat in lieu of just Hat. Harry blinked, startled, he had forgotten he was still wearing Sam from his night patrol in Hogwarts. He shrugged, at least Sam got see a bit of adventure.
Fifteen minutes later, a pile of five bodies spilled out of the phone-booth elevator entrance into the Ministry Atrium. Stuck to one of them was a note:
.
I'm terribly sorry about the mess. Just a short while ago I saw these men attack some children walking home close to the edge of the forest near my abode. When I interrupted them, they told me it was none of my business and threatened to kill the children unless I cooperated. I managed to surprise them. During the duel they fell into a snakes' nest, were severely bitten, and died. The children were unharmed and I sent them on their way after making sure they wouldn't tell their relatives or friends of their adventure. No need to call the obliviators..
If there's any kind of reward for these men, please have it donated to the Children's Ward at St. Mungo's Hospital.
(⊙_◎)
Fenrir Greyback Dead, screamed The Daily Prophet's Thursday headline. Below was a concise story about how a pile of dead werewolves arrived at the Ministry in the dead of night under mysterious circumstances. Following that was a very long and very lurid article on Greyback's life and crimes. Several other articles detailed the fate of some of his victims.
Unfortunately, there were no stories about Gilderoy, and after the great battles of the night before, he was more than a little restive. Harry consoled him with the thought that the Hufflepuff cup would soon be in their hands and his name generating more headlines.
And that call came the next day in the morning. At dinner, he sent an owl to Madam Bones. At four, after his last class let out, he apparated to the palliative care building in Perth and ten minutes later walked out. As far as anyone knew, the old woman's next of kin — funny that they hadn't known she had any — had arrived and removed the body for burial. As she had died of old age — heart failure — there would be no need to go through the Coroner's Office.
The next day was the beginning of the hard part.
"Ah, Madam Bones! A pleasure to see you, as always," Gilderoy said as he entered her office. He was dressed in his finest lavender robes, upgraded to Acromantula silk after the Goblins had paid his Basilisk ingredients' buyout price.
"And you, too, Mr. Lockhart."
"Excellent news, is it not, that Fenrir Greyback is dead, don't you think? But what a strange way to die! Poisoned to death by snakes not native to Scotland, how strange." He paused a moment as if to think.
"I heard a rumour that some disgruntled Death Eaters commissioned him to kill me, don't you know? The werewolves must have been on their way to find me when Greyback ran afoul of his desire to cause mindless mischief and mayhem.
"It was just a stroke of luck that he ran up against someone capable of sorting them out before they had a chance to do any real damage. The children involved, I'm sure, are thankful for their selfless protector. I'm sure they would be telling all and sundry if only they could. Five werewolves against one Wizard and rescuing three helpless children from certain death. The skill and talent it must have taken rivals my own, I dare say! I wish I could claim such a fantastic battle for one of my books. It would be another bestseller, I'm sure."
He sighed theatrically, his gaze roving over her office. "Anyway, the rumour says the Carrows, Amycus and Alecto, think that I, somehow, was involved in Lucius Malfoy's death, as well as the unmasking of Macnair and a few other hidden Death Eaters here at the ministry, can you believe it?" He shook his head sadly. "How they could think that is beyond me. Why some people seek a scapegoat for their own incompetence, I do not understand. After all, is it not the case that it is a mistake to attribute to malice what might simply be the result of incompetence or stupidity?"
He looked directly at her. "By the way, has the Dark Mark alert and tag spell on the Ministry's floo's yielded any interesting finds? I should imagine that if someone arrived whom you didn't know was a Death Eater that that would mean you could safely administer veritaserum to them. After all, they were never given a trial and therefore you don't know if they were forced to take the mark, do you? Even if you can't do that, it would be nice to know whom to watch for . . . shall we say . . . underhanded activities, wouldn't it? Not to mention whom they associate with and whom might share their proclivities. And no one except perhaps the Unspeakables need ever know how you came upon such information.
"After all, we both know Voldewhore is trying to come back. It would be better to know who his allies in the Ministry are before that happens so you can plan accordingly."
Gilderoy knew they hadn't yet put up such a spell or he would have felt it today. A gentle reminder was in order. Plus, his preceding monologue let her know in no uncertain terms that he was claiming to be the source of the gift of dead werewolf fugitives.
She just stared back at him, her face carefully blank. Damn, he was coming across as too competent, he had expected her to roll her eyes at the very least. Well, at least one person in authority would take him seriously when he made suggestions in the future.
Finally, she said, "What brings you to my office today?"
"I want to go to Azkaban." He left off, 'to rescue Bellatrix Lestrange.'
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