57: The Fall of the Fraud

Gilderoy Lockhart was having a wonderful day, thank you. He was enjoying a fantastic week. No, a month! 

He'd been working for the past year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. But in the end, they doubted his skills as a wizard, so he left. He wouldn't tolerate any slander! He was five times winner of the Witch Weekly Most Charming Smile, after all. 

Lockhart could've easily defeated the Basilisk in the chamber, but because of the disrespect, he chose not to. They reap the problems that they sow. 

It was a shame leaving so early. He had so many fans there! So much fame! But Hogwarts didn't deserve his presence — or at least, he kept telling himself that. 

Some students and professors of the school couldn't understand his greatness. 

But with all the bad came some good. His credentials before Hogwarts were already high enough. And now that he had a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor added to the list, he would enjoy even more fame and power. Well, power was subjective. Power as in easy access to otherwise restricted places, free dining at luxury restaurants, and perhaps, if he was lucky enough, the Ministry. 

A high-ranking Ministry position fitted him, Lockhart thought. It would be the perfect fit to add to his list of fantastic 'exploits'. And if he did well enough, he could even run for Minister of Magic. A well-placed memory charm here and there, he'll have a handful of achievements by the end of the first month. 

If he could do it in Hogwarts, a place that housed the most powerful wizard of the time — after Gilderoy himself, of course — he could easily do it in the Ministry. Who was going to stop him? Fudge? 

Sitting down on the table of his own home for a supple breakfast, Gilderoy couldn't help but laugh out loud. It was almost too easy! Sometimes, he thought about what would happen if people figured out the truth about him. But then, he laughed again. That would never happen! If it didn't happen before, it wouldn't happen now. 

However, he did find it strange that he suffered no repercussions after leaving Hogwarts so early. 

"I love being me," he muttered. He brought a spoonful of cereal drenched in milk to his mouth. It tasted bland, much like all the food he had the past month. Lockhart barely had any money left. He had spent it all fleeing to a remote home in a small wizarding village in Ireland. His book royalties would only come in a week or two, meaning he was completely broke for those weeks.

Lockhart didn't call it fleeing. It was more of a tactical retreat. He would wait a month or two before returning to the British Magical Society. Meanwhile, he'd enjoy his best life in the countryside. 

But it seemed his luck had run out. 

There was a soft knock on the window. It was a brown owl carrying a newspaper. Gilderoy had almost forgotten about his weekly subscription to The Daily Prophet. He sat up and approached the window, eyeing the soft plumage of the bird. Opening it, he petted the owl and grabbed the newspaper from its dark claws, not noticing the jumbling of shouts and yells from the street. 

The second floor had a great view of the sun and the river close to Gilderoy's house. It was a perfect day to enjoy in his luxurious enchanted sofa, riddled with comfort and cooling charms. He could not have much food to eat, but he had to have an Emporium sofa. He had his priorities straight.

Laying comfortably, Lockhart unfurled the newspaper, wondering if Peter Pettigrew had been caught. There was an article about the fugitive, but it barely took any space on the front page. His eyes widened, and his mind went into shock the moment he read the main headline. 

Gilderoy Lockhart: A Fraud  by Rita Skeeter

The next moment, a crash echoed in the room. Lockhart shrieked in shock. His window had been broken. Then, he finally heard the shouts coming from below in the street. He peeked out the window, trembling from the fear, and almost fainted.

A crowd of hundreds of wizards and witches stood outside his home with posters and flags of defamation to his person. A bonfire burned fiercely not far from them, hundreds of books, posters, and portraits of him adding fuel to the fire. 

Karma had finally caught up to him.

__________

Running through the heart of Godric's Woods, there was a meandering creek that eventually led to a pond near the town square. During the winter months, it would often freeze over, providing the perfect opportunity for children and young adults to glide across its ice using enchanted boots and sledges.

However, come summer, the scene transformed entirely. The creek's waters turned crystal clear, glistening like diamonds beneath the warm sun. Because the water was so clean, fish and other magical underwater creatures could be easily spotted from above.

Brick pathways lined the creek's banks and people would stroll along its shores. Along these pathways were long wooden benches, offering a place to sit and relax while savouring the gentle summer breeze.

The twins, Alaric and Lysandra, walked along one of these pathways in complete silence. It wasn't the uncomfortable type, but rather the one only family could have without it turning unpleasant. 

Alaric gently guided the wheelchair with his father seated in it. His gaze was distant and vacant, no coherent thought passing through his eyes. The twins were rather meticulous when it came to the care of their father. They had taken great pains to ensure his well-being. Leopold, despite the emptiness in his eyes, was well groomed. His raven-black hair was elegantly styled with a side part, and his clothes consisted of a white button-up shirt complemented by beige pants and polished brown shoes. His appearance was undeniably handsome, save for one stark contrast — his complexion. It was too pale for someone who was under the sun's glow. 

"It didn't work... again," Lysandra whispered, her voice tinged with a deep sense of sorrow. She had tirelessly worked on Leopold's new treatment, but the outcome remained the same. His face was still pale and gaunt and he remained unresponsive. The Cruciatus Curse had exacted a heavy toll on his body. In a desperate bid to cope with the agonizing pain, Leopold's body had adopted a survival strategy by constricting the flow of blood and oxygen, reducing the count of his red blood cells.

Treating the induced anaemia wasn't that hard, but awakening Leopold's near-dormant brain was the real challenge. The problem lay more on the psychological side rather than the physical. Hence, a cure for the lingering effects of the Torture curse remained to be seen.

"Don't worry," Alaric consoled his sister as his hand tenderly caressed her shoulder. "You're making progress." It was the truth. 

For all his brilliance and magical prowess, Alaric fell short of Lysandra's mastery of the art of healing. He lacked the bone for it. Treating minor to moderate injuries posed no difficulty, but severe afflictions were out of his league.

It pained him that he could do little more than provide his sister with the resources she needed. The materials she often used were costly, but Alaric had the means to support her work. Their father's condition had been one of the reasons Alaric opened the Emporium in the first place.

As much as Isadora loved her husband, she had given up on finding a working treatment. She wasn't as present in her children's lives as she would've liked because of her search for a cure. But now, she was trying to make up for it.

The twins continued strolling along the brick pathway. A kid flew past them on a children's broom that only floated slightly above the floor, followed by a group of giggling girls. On the other side of the creek was a couple having a small picnic. A simple white towel was laid on the grass between some trees while the basket filled with food sang a tuneful melody to the man and woman. 

Eventually, they reached the pond near the town square. Surrounded by trees, the pond's water was filled with lily pads and beautiful algae that erupted from the surface, giving it a shade of green. Right in the middle of the pond stood a floating hourglass entirely made of water. It was as tall as the trees, and every hour would flip upside down to count the time again.

They sat on one of the benches beside the water and placed their father near them. 

"Mother gave me a letter from the Ministry this morning," Alaric started. He reached for the pocket of his shirt and took a wrinkled envelope from it. "It's an invitation for the summer ball," he said, and Lysandra noticed the annoyance in his words. 

"So?" she asked. "Are you nervous about it? Mother also gave me mine," Lysandra chortled. The Ministry usually hosted a ball around this time under the pretext of strengthening the bonds between the influential figures of the British Wizarding Society. Being descendants of Gellert Grindelwald himself, and the children of the current head of House Grindelwald, Alaric and Lysandra were invited the moment their mother moved some of her business to Britain when they changed homes. 

"It's not that..." Alaric sighed and took another wrinkled envelope from his pocket. "Percival Graves was also invited," 

"Already?" Lysandra asked.

"Already,"

Attention was unavoidable. Aaric and Lysandra knew that the moment the Emporium opened. Selling better products than most shops at reasonable prices would undeniably garner some recognition. And when Ministry orders started pouring in, this result was inevitable. 

But it was too early. The shop had been open for a year in June. As good as it was being recognized, they thought it was too soon. 

"What do we do then?" Lysandra asked in frustration. 

"Simple," Alaric had figured out the solution even before they left the cottage. "I go as both Alaric Grindelwald and Percival Graves," 

It seemed insane, but was there any other option? Their family lacked standing to refuse attendance without consequences. They returned to British soil only two years ago after being absent for nearly a decade. And they weren't part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. If one of the twins were to miss the ball, their mother's business could very well suffer serious damage in reputation. 

And now that Alaric knew that Fudge had some control over The Daily Prophet, it all made sense. 

"It's not going to be easy," Lysandra said. "If Mother catches you, she'll force you to close the shop. You know that, right?" 

"That's where you come in," Alaric said calmly. "As long as you keep our mother distracted between my absences, she won't notice a thing," 

Lysandra thought that it couldn't be that hard, could it? She just had to distract Isadora long enough for the Minister and his office to notice that Percival Graves came to the ball. They'd probably socialize a bit with her brother and try to strike a few deals before leaving him alone. After that, Percival Graves just had to "leave early" and Alaric would come back from wherever he went. 

"I won't make any promises," Lysandra quickly said. "You know how fickle she can be," 

"Just keep her from wanting to look for me," Alaric leaned back on the bench and closed his eyes. The sound of birds chirping blended beautifully with the wind. "If we're lucky enough, I might be able to plant my influence on the Minister's mind," 

And if he could do that, then they could proceed with their plans. 

**********

A/N: More of Lockhart next chapter :)

Fun fact! Did you know that Michael Jackson wanted to compose a Harry Potter musical? He did, but JKR ended up refusing. 

Hope you enjoyed the chapter!