Chapter 10 Family and Friends

"Ah, Mr. Weasley!" Gilderoy stood beside his table in the Ministry cafeteria as the other Wizard approached. "So, good of you to agree to meet with me," he continued. "I am, as you know, Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award, and Hogwarts' most beloved Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor."

Arthur shook his hand and returned his beaming smile with a small one of his own.

"I know you are a busy man, Arthur. May I call you Arthur?" The wizard nodded agreeably. "Oh, good, thank you for that honour. Call me Gilderoy." They settled back in their chairs. "I hope you don't mind, but I ordered dinner for both of us. It's humble fair, I know, but filling, nonetheless, right?" Actually, it was the most expensive meal on the menu, with a small bottle of wine for drink. A rich dessert was included.

He waved his wand and the noise level around them dropped significantly. Walden Macnair, seated at the next table, seemed relieved as the privacy enchantment went up. "There now, no eavesdroppers," he said happily. "I asked to meet you to talk about your children. I don't normally do things like this, who am I to tell another how to raise their children? After all, I am one of England's most eligible bachelors." He smiled winningly at the curious Wizard. "But I like your boys and wish to help you."

Arthur was looking a bit alarmed.

"They aren't in any trouble, don't fear!" he added jovially. "I just have some observations for you to think about." The Weasley head of family relaxed.

"Percy, first. Percy is . . . well there's no easy way to say this. He's a right prat. He worships authority and doesn't understand that rules are guidelines and not carved in stone. That there are nuances to any situation, mitigating factors, and damning facts. That you can be within the letter of the law and still be completely wrong. That you can obviously break the law, but still be right to do what you did." The red-haired man was staring at him. Gilderoy nodded firmly. "You need to sit down with the boy and have several nice long chats about the reality of what it's like in the Ministry. How many will exploit a young man's naivety and dedication and then throw him to the wolves when it suits their purpose, denying they even know the boy. Use many real-world examples that you've seen in your career. Tell him what warning signs he needs to watch for in his superiors and colleagues to keep himself safe. Make sure he understands that the politician that pats him on the back is concealing a knife in that hand — and that in the Ministry everyone is a politician, even the interns." He stared back at the Wizard levelly. "If nothing is done, you will see him turn on his own family rather than think for himself and see that his superiors not only are wrong, but frequently pretend to believe things they know are untrue and hurtful."

Arthur cleared his throat, "Surely you exaggerate?"

"Sit down and talk with the boy, and you'll see the truth of what I say. After all the time I've spent travelling the world, and all the Wizards and Witches I've met during those travels, well, I've become a very finely tuned judge of character. I am rarely wrong. I would like to be wrong in this instance, but I doubt I am.

"Percy's an adult and he's not going through a phase. Unless you help him, I foresee nothing but misery for him and his relationship with your family. And he is a splendid young man with a bright future before him. He needs to learn that kowtowing to your superiors to curry favour is a short-term strategy that will yield long-term difficulties. And once you lose your integrity, it is very difficult, if not impossible, to regain it. And that someone offering him an unearned promotion to responsibility is really looking for a patsy to take the fall when things go bottom-up."

Arthur looked down at the table, frowning.

"By the way," Lockhart continued, "did you know he's had a girlfriend since last year? It's an open secret at Hogwarts. And yet he doesn't think his own parents should know."

Arthur looked up sharply at that.

"Maybe you should arrange to meet with him in one of The Three Broomsticks' private rooms in Hogsmeade this coming weekend. Discuss a few things with him, hmm? Wizard to Wizard. Why wait until next summer when it might be too late?"

"Next, we have your son Ronald. And he has many problems, all correctable if something is done now. Unfortunately, almost all his problems are the fault of the twins."

"The twins? Fred and George?" Arthur was astonished.

"Yes. Let me explain. First, Ron is horribly jealous of his brothers. He feels, and rightly, that no matter what he does it will never be enough. If he gets on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, so what? Three of his brothers already did that. What if he makes Captain of the team? Oh, that's right, Charlie already did that. Well, what if he scores in the top of his class? Oops, Percy, Bill and Charlie all have that honour. Well how about becoming a Prefect, oh, Percy, Bill and Charlie, again, did that! Well, okay, how about Head Boy! Oh dear, Bill did that and it looks like Percy will, too.

"And you know what would be worse for him? What if he tries and fails at any of those? Will his mother ever forgive him for not doing as well as his brothers? She already ceaselessly compares him to his brothers, and he always comes up short. Why bother trying if you know it will never be good enough?

"So, what's the poor boy to do? Nothing he does will stand out and have his parents say, 'Wow, Ron, that's incredible, nobody in our family has ever done that!' He's afraid he'll always be in the shadow of his brothers.

"That would be bad enough, but the twins are making things worse. They continually belittle and browbeat him, and use him to test their pranks. They treat him as a pet to torment, not as a brother they should help.

"And his friends, true friends they are, make him look positively stupid. Hermione is head and shoulders above him academically, and Harry is always at the centre of attention.

"Nobody notices Ron unless he gets into a fight with Draco Malfoy. And his broken wand isn't helping him."

Arthur was looking appalled at these revelations. "Broken wand?"

"And there's more. He has the eating habits of a starving werewolf. It's truly disgusting to watch. Except for his two friends, nobody will sit near him at mealtime." He paused for emphasis. "And that is entirely the twins fault. They screw with his food so much at home, Mr. Potter tells me, that if he doesn't stuff his food into his mouth as fast as possible, they dose it with a prank. They don't treat him as their brother, they treat him as an test rat on which they try their experimental potions and spells. A test subject to check their potions for harmful effects — and who knows what type of damage any hidden side-effects may have had on the poor boy? Maybe that's why he seems to always be ravenously hungry! And you do nothing about it!"

Arthur sat up at that declaration. "I . . . ."

"Do nothing!" stated Gilderoy, interrupting and waving his hand imperiously. "If you had done something, this wouldn't have happened! Here!" He put two small vials filled with a silvery liquid on the table. He put a finger on one bottle. "This is a memory of an incident Mr. Potter witnessed at your home last summer. He was kind enough to let me copy it. Watch Ron and the twins closely. Watch how you and your wife react." He moved his finger to the second bottle, "This is a memory of an incident I saw in the Great Hall at mealtime. Watch them both, then come back and tell me I am wrong."

He stared at the Wizard challengingly. "Send an owl to Hermione and Harry asking them to describe, honestly, Ron's eating habits if you believe I am exaggerating. For the unvarnished truth from an uninvolved third party, do the same with Neville Longbottom. He's a Pure-blood and knows the proper manners one is supposed to display in public."

"Far be it for me to tell another how to control his family, but what I suggest you do is tell the twins that they are grounded next summer, all summer, until their brother learns and uses proper table manners," he suggested kindly. "And they can't coerce him in any way, shape, or manner. No potions, no spells, no hexes, no pranks to force him to change. They can only encourage him or, perhaps, bribe him.

"And the grounding means they are banned from their room! They sleep outside in a tent that they put up every evening and take down every morning. It means no pranks, no planning pranks, no visiting friends, nothing. If you hear any loud bangs, smell any strange smells from the tent, then they can spend the summer sleeping under the stars without a tent. Their siblings are not test animals for their pranks. If they want to be productive, they can teach Ron to be the best Quidditch player in the world. That would make him happy! And make sure they include their sister! She's developing quite the inferiority complex from her brothers denying her the right to do things that they and even other Witches do."

"They can spend their copious spare time taking care of the farm. This is their punishment for using their brother and sister as test prank-subjects and teaching Ron to eat like a rabid starving dog. Once he starts eating like a proper Wizard, you'll rescind the grounding." He stopped and let the other Wizard think for a few moments. "But they are still banned from using their siblings as test subjects."

Gilderoy smiled and turned his charm on full. "I'm not your enemy, Arthur," he said kindly. "I want you and your family to prosper. I've willing taken on the mantle of the Dark Wizard Messenger because I want your children to succeed. Please think carefully about what I've said.

"I know you don't have a pensieve, but if you go to Madam Bones and tell her that I, Gilderoy Lockhart, gave you some memories that it is vital you see I'm sure she'll let you use the one the D.M.L.E. has." After the tips and help he's given her, his name should have some pull. "If she says she can't, owl me and I'll make arrangements to get you access to one immediately."

He straightened, pulled out his wand, and dispelled his muffling charm.

"Now that that's done, let's enjoy this wonderful repast!"

The rest of the meal Gilderoy nattered on about his books, pretending not to notice that the man was deep in thought. Only occasionally did he directly address a question to Arthur, to which the Wizard could reply with a simple yes or no.

As they were starting desert, Gilderoy noticed Macnair seemed to be getting ready to leave. He turned to Arthur and said jovially, "Well, what do you think about those rumours that Mr. Malfoy is talking with the Aurors? I heard that Madam Bones paid a call on him at his manor recently." Macnair stilled and leaned on his elbow scowling, as he pulled a parchment from his robes. That it also moved him fractionally closer and let him listen better was merely incidental. "With what they say about how he's not that stable mentally," Gilderoy continued, "I wonder if she's hoping he'll accidentally reveal information about some of the Death Eaters she knows the D.M.L.E. missed ten years ago?" He leaned closer over the table conspiratorially, and loudly said, "Perhaps she's hoping that he really wasn't imperioed and has been meeting with others so she can trap them, all together, eh? It would be quite a feather in her cap to prove some of those who cried, 'It wasn't my fault,' were lying, hmm?" He sat back, "And the best part would be that Lucius, in his current mental state, wouldn't even realize he was letting loose things he shouldn't, so he wouldn't even warn his friends he might have slipped up. Why, he might even deny meeting with her and the Aurors completely!"

Arthur was looking at him, puzzled. "No, I haven't heard any such thing."

Gilderoy waved his hand, "Ah, well, it's probably just a rumour." He took a drink from his wine glass. "But, you know, as the old saying goes, where there's smoke, there's fire."

The Professor studiously attacked his dessert as the Death Eater at the next table slowly stood and left. Harry/Gilderoy had hoped to spread the rumour by merely being loud in the staff dining room, that he managed to secure a table near a known Death Eater had been exceptional luck. Of course, using a discomfort hex on the previous occupants to get them to move to another table had helped.

A few minutes later, after a wonderful dessert, they were standing to leave. "You know, Arthur, sending a howler to Hogwarts and humiliating your children in front of their peers and professors is a terrible thing to do. Young children can be incredibly cruel, and a howler triggers days of taunts, jokes, and mean pranks at the expense of the recipient. I know it's rather common, but it truly borders on child abuse, I think. Kind of like knowing that Dark families beat their house-elves is one thing, but teaching your children that they should do that too, is another. Besides, think how you would feel if Molly sent you a Howler about forgetting an appointment and it arrived while you were in a Department Head meeting?

"You should ask your wife if she has ever thought of that. How she would have felt at receiving one from her mother when she was a mere First or Second Year and made a mistake. And, outside of humiliating her, did it really make a difference in how she acted?"

The look Mr. Weasley gave him indicated that there were going to be many lengthy discussions in the Burrow over the next few days.

(⊙_⊙)

Harry had his week of headlines and things had once more tapered down to normal at The Daily Prophet, and at Hogwarts. After a rather dull week, Gilderoy decided it was time to stir the cauldron once more.

Tomorrow would make it four weeks after Halloween and Gilderoy paced the seventh floor corridor opposite a certain tapestry just after breakfast. This time he was thinking he needed the Room of Lost Things. A frustrating four hours later, he triumphantly came out of the room with the Diadem secured in an Acromantula Silk bag.

Barely able to contain his excitement, he hurried into the Horcrux Room and followed the instructions. Harry/Gilderoy could hear a roaring noise beginning, which cut off as the inner door closed. Such was the closeness of the fit of the door to its frame he could hear nothing. So he sat on the floor, his back to the wall beside the door. He almost sat against the door, but realized he might disturb its seal, and who knew what would happen then.

To be safe, he waited an extra ten minutes.

He cautiously opened the door and looked around the room. Black scorch marks covered the wall and the cold stone floor was now warm. The diadem, in the middle of the circle looked unharmed. In fact, it looked clean and polished — so clean and polished that it almost seemed to glow.

He slowly approached the circlet and cast a Dark detection spell on it. Nothing. He moved closer and hovered his hand just a fraction of an inch from it. In the Room of Lost Things, he could feel the evil emanating from the Diadem. In here, right now, nothing. He reverently picked it up. He turned it round and round and examined it closely. It looked perfect, not a single blemish anywhere he could see. He was tempted to try it on, to see just what it could do for him. But he resisted.

"Wit Beyond Measure is Man's Greatest Treasure," he read, staring at it. "But she still screwed up, didn't she? Ignored her poor daughter until the disregarded girl stole the Diadem, determined to get her mother's attention at last. Thus, she could pretend her mother was searching for her and not the Diadem. And not long after her daughter stole it, Rowena died. Did she become too dependent on it, I wonder?

"And didn't her daughter put it on? For if she had, surely the Diadem would have allowed her to see that her actions would not yield the results she desired. So, the Diadem fails in its mission a second time.

"And finally, Tom Riddle. You travelled all the way to Romania and discovered the hidden Diadem. Did you not once try it on, Tom? If you had, wearing the Diadem should have revealed the folly of your chosen course. That it did not means the Diadem has failed again. Three times, it has failed, severely, failed to reveal the fatal flaws in all their plots. Three times! Perhaps her spell-work wasn't as magnificent as she expected.

"With that record, I fear I shall not attempt to analyse my plans with its help."

He pulled the silk bag out of his pocket and dropped the Diadem in it. Almost six hours total. He sighed. That was far better than the weeks and weeks he and Hermione had wasted searching for the bloody tiara the last time. And the horcrux's destruction had been so much easier this time.

Tomorrow, Monday morning, the last Monday in November, at breakfast, he would present the Lost Diadem to Professor Flitwick.

He left the room, not noticing as the door very slowly disappeared behind him. He headed for the owlery. He wanted to give Rita a heads up on what was going to happen that tomorrow.

(◎_⊙)

"Ah, Rita, as punctual as ever," Gilderoy welcomed the reporter and her photographer expansively. He made sure his best profile was always facing the photographer. He had told her to meet him at the Hogwarts' Front Gates at seven.

"Okay, Gilderoy, what's the big secret? Another interview with Potter?"

"Oh, no, my dear, something even better. I, Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award, and Hogwarts' beloved Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, guarantee you front-page headlines both tonight and tomorrow!"

He could see that the headline hungry Witch almost started salivating at the prospect. "Oh?" she replied coolly.

"It's about something," he half-whispered, "that's been missing since Hogwarts was first founded. I have accomplished what Headmasters and others have failed to do for almost a thousand years!" He rubbed his hands together gleefully. "I have found the lost Ravenclaw Diadem." He halted as the reporter stopped dead and stared at him.

He grinned broadly, "Yes, that's right, I, Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award, and beloved Hogwarts' Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, have recovered the famed diadem created by Rowena Ravenclaw." He paused, relishing the moment, and then added, "And you get the scoop!"

He watched as the Witch stared at him wide-eyed, then she closed her eyes and shuddered. Gilderoy/Harry almost fell over in surprise, had she just had an orgasm? He shook his head to throw out that image.

He reached inside his robes and pulled out the silk bag. Reverently, he reached inside and lifted the diadem out to show Rita.

Her mouth formed an "O" of surprise and she lifted a hand, gently touching the relic. The photographer, Bozo, swooped in for a close-up or four.

After letting her run her fingers over the inscription, he dropped it back in the bag. "At breakfast today I plan to present it to Professor Flitwick. Just follow my lead."

He led the two into the Great Hall and seated them at the head of the Ravenclaw table, explaining to the nearby students, "They are my guests this morning. We'll be doing an interview after breakfast." He looked over at Bozo, "Be ready to get some great shots of amazed Professors, especially the Headmaster."

He told the other Professors as they approached the Headmaster's Table that Rita and her photographer were his guests. The Headmaster gave him a sharp look and leaned close to say, "Next time tell me ahead of time when you brings guests into the Great Hall." The twinkle was noticeably absent. Then the old Wizard continued to his throne. The old goat apparently didn't like Rita, only Merlin knew why. Lockhart found the Witch to be delightful.

When the Hall was as filled as it was going to get, Gilderoy stood and tapped his goblet with his knife. It was show time. The sharp ting, ting, ting, echoed through the room. After a few moments, everyone had stopped talking to listen.

"I have an important announcement to make." The Headmaster did not look pleased, the last time Gilderoy had played to an audience, it had been the Aurors and Dumbledore still felt the backlash from that.

"As you all know, I, Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award, and your beloved Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts," there were a few snickers at that, "have been combing Hogwarts from the deepest of its dungeons to the top of its lofty spires searching for clues to the location of the hidden Chamber of Secrets."

Rita gave him an incredulous look. Apparently, this was the first time anyone had mentioned the Chamber in her hearing. He gave her a knowing smile.

"In my thorough meanderings I have come across various clues regarding many lost items, such as Slytherin's Locket, Hufflepuff's Cup, and Gryffindor's Sword, to name just a few.

"Professor Flitwick, if you would come with me." He motioned the other to follow him as he walked to the front of the Headmaster's Table. He quickly conjured a series of steps on the platform and motioned Flitwick to step up on them, putting them both at eyelevel to each other as Gilderoy stood on the floor. They were standing parallel to the Headmaster's table to give the students and staff the best possible view.

He gave a quick hand-signal to Bozo and the Wizard quickly positioned himself for the coming photos. The students and professors were watching carefully, whispering to each other and wondering what he was about to reveal.

Lockhart carefully reached into his pocket and took out the bag. He conjured a royal blue coloured pillow and placed the bag on it, then lifted and held the pillow between them. "Professor Flitwick, you are the Head of Ravenclaw House," he said loudly enough for his voice to carry to the entire hall. "It gives me, Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award, and Hogwarts' beloved Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor great pleasure to restore to your House, and Hogwarts, this!"

He reached for the bag and as he touched it, the bag vanished, revealing the gleaming Diadem. He had performed a wandless finite, but planned to tell them he had previously placed a word-sensitive finite on the conjured bag.

"Lady Rowena Ravenclaw's Diadem," Gilderoy concluded loudly.

Pandemonium broke out as the photographer's flash went off like a series of exploding Christmas lights as Bozo frantically took pictures.

The noise continued as Gilderoy smiled and posed dramatically, beaming happily at everyone. Flitwick stared wonderingly at the diadem on the pillow. Other cameras appeared, and even more pictures taken until finally the Headmaster set off a loud blast.

He stared at Gilderoy, then at the Diadem. "Is that really?" he asked, his eyes twinkling like mad.

Gilderoy, delighted to be the centre of attention of hundreds of watchers, said, "Well, there is one way to prove it. You do know who the Grey Lady is, don't you?" The entire school knew of the Grey Lady, the haughty and always silent Ravenclaw ghost. The Headmaster's eyes widened and he nodded.

"Perhaps if you call her," Gilderoy prompted.

Moments later, the stately retiring ghost glided into the Great Hall. Her gaze locked on the Diadem immediately and she rushed over to stare at it. Lockhart looked over at her. "I think you know what this is, Lady Helena Ravenclaw," he said quietly.

The Ravenclaws closest to them gasped and quickly spread the word that their ghost was none other than Rowena Ravenclaw's daughter. How could they not have known?

She turned her stare to him. "You cleansed it, the evil taint is gone," she half-whispered. "It is exactly as I remember it from long ago. I can feel my mother's magic in it." The Headmaster looked sharply at the ghost. He would be questioning her later about that taint.

The blonde-haired Wizard was so happy he wanted to dance. "Yes, Madam Helena Ravenclaw, it is as it was when you originally hid it away," He said loudly. The entire hall gasped at the realization as to the true identity of the Ravenclaw ghost.

Her eyes were shining and if he had thought it possible, he would have said she was crying in joy.

He turned back to Professor Flitwick. "And so, Professor, I give to you the authenticated Lady RowenaRavenclaw's Diadem." He placed the pillow in the diminutive professor's hands and stepped back.

He turned and loudly proclaimed to the room, "At last, the lost Diadem of Ravenclaw is returned to its home." He pointed his arm at the pillow as Professor Flitwick proudly faced the Great Hall and held it up high for everyone to see.

The Headmaster was the first to start clapping, and in moments, the entire hall filled with thunderous applause. Whatever his failings might be, Gilderoy Lockhart had ensured his place in Hogwarts' history as the one who had found the famous priceless Ravenclaw Diadem. None could ever gainsay that accomplishment!

When the applause died down, Harry/Gilderoy said, "I propose that a special display cabinet be placed in the Entry Way to the Great Hall, so that all can see and admire this great Founder's treasure. Perhaps with a plaque describing its history and that I, Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award, and Hogwarts' beloved Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor found and returned the Diadem to its rightful place."

There was another round of thunderous applause.

Monday evening's The Daily Prophet was everything Gilderoy could have hoped for and wanted. No fewer than six different articles referenced him, including one that was a biography all about his achievements. Never had he had such exposure in the newsparchment. And tomorrow the other magical newsparchments would pick up the stories and spread them across the world. He had quite probably doubled the number of people who knew his name. And increased book sales would quickly follow.

As Gilderoy/Harry folded the newsparchment so that his headline was prominent and placed it face-up beside his plate, the Headmaster leaned over. "Excuse me, Gilderoy, would you please come to my office after tea tonight?"

"Certainly, Albus! I'd be happy to do that for you. Just let me ask the lovely Minerva, here, to tell Ron his detention tonight has been changed to Mr. Filch." He turned to the Witch in question and made his request, concluding with a sigh, "It's too bad Mr. Malfoy won't be in detention with him. I heard that Mr. Filch's thumbscrews need oiling, the two students could have cleaned and tested their action."

She gave him an appalled look.

He grinned mischievously, "You know, making sure the heads are nice and firm, that the clamps are good and tight, that the screws go in and out smoothly, that the knobs are properly polished?" He arched an eyebrow inquisitively.

She stared at him an additional moment, startled at the innuendo, before suddenly smiling back, "Of course, I don't mind, Gilderoy. I'm finished anyway, so I'll tell him now." There seemed to be an odd twinkle in her eye. She stood and walked around the table, her hips swaying a bit more than he usually noticed when she walked in the corridors.

In the back of his head Harry could hear Gilderoy giggling, 'oh, she's ready, she is.' Harry/Gilderoy closed his eyes momentarily trying to drive out the thought that his former Transfigurations Professor was flirting with him.

That evening, after tea, he followed the old bearded bastard back to the Wizard's office.

After offering Gilderoy a lemon drop, which he declined, the Headmaster said, "I had an interesting discussion with the Grey Lady this afternoon."

Gilderoy smiled, "Yes, she's quite a lovely lady, isn't she. Doesn't say much though. It's a pity because I believe the students could learn a lot from her, especially what the Founders were really like instead of what generations of historians have made up. Perhaps you could talk her into giving us a lecture in the Great Hall one evening on the founding of Hogwarts?" The Headmaster nodded and smiled at the suggestion, half-whispering, "Perhaps."

They both sat silent. Gilderoy knew this game. Albus loved this passive/aggressive crap. Say something vague and leading, and wait for his victim to get nervous and say something they hadn't intended. Gilderoy just kept a silly vacant smile on his face. If the Headmaster let too much time pass, then Gilderoy planned to start talking about his next book, tentatively entitled, "Hanging Out at Hogwarts."

Fortunately, Albus caved in first. "She tells me you only spoke a few words to her, and never about the Diadem."

"That's true. I knew she was Helena Ravenclaw the first time I saw her. It's rather obvious, don't you know, she looks almost exactly like her mother's painting in 'Hogwarts, A History' and her bust in the Ravenclaw Common Room. And if she hadn't revealed any clues about the Diadem in the last thousand years, she wasn't about to start with me. I mean, I know I'm personable, I know I'm persuasive, I know people, especially women, tend to adore me — and why shouldn't they? I'm a five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award! But, in spite of that, I decided it would be better to just observe her." He stopped. "Meanwhile, I carefully combed the Castle looking for clues, trying to . . . to feel . . . the magic of the Diadem. And then I found it."

The Headmaster's eyes had widened abrupt explanation. "And where did you find it?" he finally asked.

"Ah! To find the answer to that question, you'll need to buy my next book, 'Hanging Out at Hogwarts'. It will be quite an enthralling tale with much advice on how to maintain your composure and good looks while under tribulations!"

The Headmaster's eyes were not twinkling as much as they were a moment before. "I see," was all he said.

"There is one thing that bothers me about the Diadem, though." Gilderoy paused and watched the old Headmaster, waiting.

He could see the Dumbledore's glasses tilt slightly at he raised an eyebrow in silent enquiry. "Well, the Diadem had a quite Dark Curse on it. So powerful a curse, I could feel it while still a step away. And I had the oddest compulsion to put it on." He shifted in his chair, as if uncomfortable. "Naturally, my extensive experience in the Dark Arts allowed me to ignore the compulsion. Many Wizards would, I'm sure, have succumbed, but Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award, and Hogwarts' beloved Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor is made of sterner stuff!" he declared, straightening in the chair, casting a beaming smile at the old Wizard. "Thinking quickly I conjured a silk bag and a long pole. I picked up the Diadem with the pole and dropped it directly into the bag. Then I cast a powerful containment enchantment on the bag to protect myself."

He leaned forward towards the other Wizard. "Do you know what a Horcrux is, Albus?" The Headmaster froze still, only his eyes moving as he watched and listened.

Gilderoy nodded. "That's what it was, Albus." He leaned back "Fortunately, using my vast knowledge of runes and experience with magic circles, I created a way to destroy the Horcrux without destroying the Diadem."

The Headmaster frowned, "Are you sure it was a Horcrux?"

"Absolutely. I found a book in Egypt several years or so ago that described them in great detail, as well as describing how difficult they were to eliminate. And any Curse-breaker in Gringotts can tell you all about them. They run into them frequently in Egyptian tombs." He sighed and leaned forward again.

"And the worst thing is, Albus, now that I have first-hand experience with the vile things, I know I've felt the same evil taint wandering the corridors of this school." He nodded sagely at the Headmaster's dumbfounded expression. "Yes, wandering the corridors. Someone in this school is carrying a Horcrux around as if it were a common book, ring, or locket."

The Headmaster appeared to refuse to believe him, but he knew he had shaken the Wizard to his core. He left not much later after some small talk about the Weasley boys.

(⊙_◎)

There was one thing that gave him even more pleasure than all the mentions in The Daily Prophet. Buried in the back of Tuesday morning's edition was a story of an attack. Unknown assailants had murdered Mr. Malfoy in his own home Monday afternoon while his wife was out visiting a friend. The Aurors believed it had to be a known associate of the man or he would never have allowed his attacker inside the protective enchantments on his home.

Gilderoy grinned happily at that. The Aurors' questioning was bound to bring up details the Death Eaters would have preferred remained hidden.

Draco was devastated, but in all the rejoicing at the return of the Diadem, not many people noticed the boy's distress. Perhaps he should suggest to Ron that he console the poor boy in his loss. At the very least he could take a few points and maybe assign a detention or two based on how violently Ron exploded at the thought of actually being civil to his hated enemy.

He had struck a mighty blow against the Death Eater organization and Voldewhore, depriving them of both a major funding source and a wily strategist.

Gilderoy visited the Hogsmeade Post-owl Office at Tuesday dinner and sent a brief message to Madam Bones. He suggested she search for a secret room under the Malfoy's drawing room floor. He had over-heard Draco mumbling about it during a detention, worrying that his father might have revealed the secret cache and stolen the galleons he knew were stored there as well as other things of importance.

The fines for the hidden Dark artefacts would severely dent the Malfoy family's remaining financial resources, and their status, and increase Draco's discomfort.

After his brief meeting with the Headmaster, he gave several interviews to international newsparchments. And, incidentally, bragged about his other exploits and repeatedly mentioned how he was mentoring Mr. Harry Potter to follow his example to become a great Wizard.