chapter 8

The Headmaster had returned with Draco not too long after dinner that same day. Gilderoy's alerts on the front gate and the Headmaster's Gargoyle had told him the boy was back. He had intercepted Professor Snape escorting the young Wizard to his dorms from the office.

"Ah, Professor Snape," Gilderoy had exclaimed jovially as he "accidentally" came across the two in the third floor corridor heading for the stairs. "I see you have returned." He struck a pose with arm on his hip holding his plum-coloured robes to the side dashingly.

Draco glowered at the floor silently while the Potions professor scowled heavily at the D.A.D.A. professor.

"I presume that Mr. Malfoy, here, will still be with us in classes this week?" he continued.

If looks could kill — and with certain creatures they can but fortunately for Lockhart Snape wasn't one of them — then Gilderoy's next major event would have been a funeral.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy is still a student. He swore he had nothing to do with the bludger attack or the other two incidents. He has agreed to avoid Mr. Potter," he practically spit the name out, "and his troublemaker friends." He glared at Gilderoy. "The Headmaster will give them the details after tea tonight."

"I am relieved to hear that," Lockhart replied cheerfully, lying through his teeth. "What happened to the poor house-elf?"

"That . . . creature . . . was given clothes by Mr. Malfoy, senior," Snape ground out.

"Oh?" said Gilderoy calmly, "They didn't execute the house-elf?"

"The Headmaster successfully argued the creature was not at fault."

"Well, he was only following orders he could not refuse," Gilderoy said consolingly. "Hopefully his new master will not have a vendetta against The-Boy-Who-Lived or any of his allies."

The Dungeon dweller snorted derisively and pushed his charge lightly to get the boy moving. "Excuse us," he said, still scowling as they walked past the other professor.

"By the way," Lockhart said, aggravating the Potions professor still more, "Now that we have a Wizard casualty, when will the Mandrake Restorative Potion be ready?"

Professor Snape stopped and sneered at him, "Surely your limited intelligence can comprehend that the Mandrakes will not be mature until late May at the earliest. To give a date for the potion's preparation is premature."

"Oh, that's right," the foppish professor said as if he had forgotten. Then he continued in a very condescending tone, "I keep forgetting that others are not as well-travelled or world-educated as myself." He smiled patronizingly, preening slightly, letting the others know he was indeed superior to them, "South Africa has the opposite climate as England. What we harvest as mature in late May, they harvest as mature in late November. There are even greenhouses where they grow mandrakes to mature every month. With my extensive world-spanning connections, I can have freshly mature Mandrakes here by December First at the latest."

Then he frowned at Professor Snape. "It would unconscionable to make Mr. Creevey lose almost his entire first year because the school refused to spend a few galleons to cure him this term, wouldn't it? After all, if he misses the entire year because the school chose to pinch knuts, the Ministry would have to fund his tuition for an extra year, which is considerably more than a few mandrakes. Not to mention how reprehensible it would be to force him to lose all his friends and start over as a First Year next year. The alternative would be to pay for tutors all summer so he can attend Second Year, which would be far more expensive than a few mandrakes."

The Dungeon Bat looked furious at the insinuation that Lockhart was better than he was. He stared at the other professor for a moment, struggling to control his urge to hex him. "Indeed," he finally forced himself to say. Draco was staring at Gilderoy as well. Clearly neither had considered the world outside their cosy corner. Scowling, Professor Snape turned and led Draco down the corridor, leaving the disgustingly cheerful dandy behind them.

(◎_◎)

It was late afternoon and Gilderoy was sitting in his office grading papers. Harry was with his friends in the Gryffindor Common Room rehashing what had happened that morning in the Hospital Wing, and the fact that Draco was back from the Ministry and hiding in the Slytherin Dungeons. They hadn't yet touched on Wills, or the fact that the Potters were rich, but there was plenty of time for both those topics in the coming weeks.

His door alarm went off and he looked up to see Lucius Malfoy walking up. About time, he thought. He had expected the Wizard to be here much sooner.

Gilderoy opened the door as soon as the other man knocked. "Lucius!" he said ingratiatingly, acting surprised, "What a pleasant surprise!"

The Wizard gave him an ugly look, shoved his way inside, and then turned to face the dapper professor. "Get out!" he ordered, "You're fired!" He thrust a scroll at the professor. Lockhart pretended to be surprised as he took the scroll and unrolled it. "I just came from a Board of Governors meeting," continued Malfoy senior, "and you've been sacked!"

"Um huh," said the professor as he scanned the document, "Uh huh, interesting, uh huh." He looked up at the irate Wizard and smiled. "I'm sure I don't understand what this is about, but in any case, this," he waved the scroll negligently, "is meaningless."

"What!"

Gilderoy walked over and tossed the scroll on his desk. "Yes," he said, still smiling pleasantly, "The Board of Governors is an advisory group to Hogwarts. According to their charter, they have no control over what actually happens. They can't hire anyone. They can't fire anyone. They have no control over how departments spend their money. All they can do is issue directives to the Headmaster on what they think he should do. He is free to ignore them at his will. The only one they can fire is the Headmaster himself, and then only for due cause, such as gross negligence, financial mismanagement, or endangering the students' welfare." That last condition, considering the Philosopher's Stone last year, should have had the old goat out on the streets already.

Malfoy stared at him, furious at being thwarted, furious that this professor had accused his son of a serious crime, furious that this popinjay had bested him.

"The charter also says that if the Governors have any questions about a staff member's conduct, they can request that he or she attend a meeting where they can discuss the matter with him or her. Now then, if the Governors feel I am a liability to the staff, they can recommend the Headmaster remove me. If they do so, I will not oppose them. I am free this evening, if you wish to call the Governors together." There now, the noose was set, and the rope made available. Would Lucius be stupid enough to hang himself?

The head of the Malfoy clan bared his teeth ferociously, "Yes, I think I shall." He turned and stormed out of the room.

Gilderoy smiled broadly.

(◎_⊙)

At tea that evening, as Lockhart watched Draco Malfoy studiously ignore Harry Potter's little group, a lone owl winged its way to him at the Headmaster's table. The Board of Governor's meeting was set for seven in the Hogwarts' Boardroom.

Just as he was finishing his second treacle-tart, the Headmaster leaned over to Professor McGonagall, "Minerva, my dear, would you please ask Mr. Potter to come to my office after tea tonight. You will need to accompany him." The cat animagus nodded genially, "Of course, Albus." The old Wizard then stood and made his way to the side door, and thence to his office.

Harry/Gilderoy hurried to his office. He seated himself comfortably at his desk chair, cast a silencing charm around himself, and then on himself. Into the profound silence that produced came the sounds of Harry and Professor McGonagall walking. He set a parchment on the desk and readied his quill. A minute later he heard, "Dum-Dums" and the sound of stone grinding on stone as the gargoyle moved. The escalator staircase was mostly quiet. Moments later came the Headmaster's voice, "Enter."

"Harry, my boy, I hope you've had a good day?"

He heard a familiar snort. Naturally, Snape was there with McGonagall and Harry.

"Yes, Sir." He heard the creak of leather as Harry sat in one of the office chairs.

"And your arm is in tip-top shape?"

"Yes, sir, but Madam Pomfrey told me to treat it easily for the next week until the bone is back at full strength."

"Good, my boy, good. Would you like a lemon drop?"

There was a long silence. The old goat was trying to soften the boy up by making him nervous. Silently stare at Harry until he started to fidget. Once the boy is fidgeting, he's less likely to think about his answers.

Gilderoy had discussed negotiating tactics during a detention with Harry, with special emphasis on those used by Dumbledore and Snape. After explaining the techniques favoured by both in condescending tones, he had said, smiling broadly, "Watch them closely, they do so love their little mind games."

The Headmaster sighed dramatically, and Harry/Gilderoy could picture him sitting forward and placing his elbows on the desk with one hand wrapped over the other.

"I had a long talk with Mr. Malfoy and Draco. Both deny having anything to do with their house-elf attacking you or stealing your mail. The actions of this Dobby were a complete surprise to them both."

"Professor Lockhart said house-elves can't do anything without the permission of their owner," said Harry. "Neville told me the same thing. If that's so, then how did Dobby do those things?"

"We don't know. But both Mr. Malfoy and Draco swore oaths on their magic that they did not tell Dobby to take your owl mail, nor to stop you from getting on the Hogwarts Express, nor to curse the bludger to attack you. And they both can still do magic."

Silence as the boy thought that over. "Is that all?"

"Isn't it enough, Potter?" came Snape's sneering voice.

"No, it isn't," said the Headmaster, gently. Harry/Gilderoy could imagine the sidelong look that the Headmaster gave Snape. "Draco Malfoy also gave an oath to neither insult or start any fights with you."

"What about Hermione, Neville, Luna, and Ron?"

Gilderoy was happy to hear Harry immediately catch the loophole for Hermione, Luna, and Neville, not so much for Ron.

"They are included, as well."

"Why aren't they here?"

"I'm sure you will tell them what they need to know, of course."

Bastard. All three students should be in there, not just Harry.

"What about the other Slytherins? What's to prevent him from ordering one of them to do his dirty work for him?"

"Potter!" came Snape's voice, again. Apparently, the Headmaster stopped him with a look from saying more.

"Mr. Malfoy is prohibited from using his influence in Slytherin House to have others accost you or your friends."

Another silence, then, "Thank you, sir."

"Just a word or warning, this only applies to Hogwarts during the school year," the Headmaster said sternly.

More silence.

"Well, I think your friends are wondering what you're up to, so you should probably hurry back to your dorm and bring them up to date."

There were the sounds of chairs scraping. "Good bye, sir."

"Good bye, Harry."

Gilderoy waited until he knew Professor McGonagall and Harry had left the office before cancelling the silencing spells on himself. He reviewed all his notes and sighed. There was still so much to do.

He pulled up a fresh parchment. He needed to make an appointment with Rita Skeeter. She should love some of the dirt he had on Malfoy senior. With her doing the pushing, it shouldn't take too long to get Malfoy kicked off the Wizenmaggots for behaviour unbecoming a Wizard of that body — although he wasn't sure how anything a member did might be considered unbecoming behaviour for that body.

(⊙_◎)

Gilderoy stopped just outside the door to the Governors' Boardroom on the third floor and made sure everything was set — his perfectly tailored mauve robes with matching vest and pants, his hair just so, his shoes shining flawlessly. Appearance was vitally important on a first introduction. After all, as he had told Harry many times, Proper Preparation Prevents Piss Poor Performance!

Hiring Dobby had been truly gratifying. He was Gilderoy's first house-elf, and the Wizard was amazed at how his fortunes were changing and growing. For Harry, it was wonderful to see Dobby once more alive, and as hyperactive as ever! The little guy had cried with happiness when told his job was to look out for Harry Potter and spying on Harry's enemies.

It was show time. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out, knocked smartly on the door and stepped inside, his robes billowing artistically behind him, his gorgeous smile distracting his opponents, his foppish manners making his enemies underestimate him.

He smiled confidently as his gaze swept the room.

The corner room normally gave a magnificent view of the lake and Quidditch Pitch, but tonight was moonless and the dark windows ate the candles' light ominously. There were thirteen members on the Hogwarts Board of Governors, and Lucius was currently the Head of the Board. He glared at Gilderoy while the others looked at the Professor with varying degrees of interest and curiosity.

"Good evening, Wizards and Witches! As you no doubt know, 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, and Hogwarts' beloved Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor. It is with great pleasure that I received your invitation to this meeting. What can I do to solve your problem?" He stopped at the foot of the table, looking across at Mr. Malfoy seated at the head.

Mr. Malfoy launched directly into the matter after a sweeping look across the other Board members. "As I told you all earlier today, this Professor, Gilderoy Lockhart, is entirely unsuited to teach at this prestigious school. He is only interested in increasing the gold in his pockets by selling books. You only have to look at how he has made all seven years of D.A.D.A. students buy all his published works. How can the same books be of use to all seven years of students? I call for a vote to have the Headmaster remove him!"

Lockhart pretended to be startled, "My goodness, Lucius, I thought we were friends! Why, we had tea together just Thursday and you seemed quite happy with my performance as a Professor then. Whatever could have happened to bring about such a drastic change?"

"You do not have my permission to use my first name, Mr. Lockhart," he said frostily.

"Oh, come, come, Lucius. You were quite pleased to grant me that permission earlier this week. Have you forgotten that as well?" He paused a moment staring at the other Wizard.

"No, I haven't forgotten! I take it back! You accused my son of trying to kill Harry Potter!" Lucius was barely in control of himself.

"Ah," said Gilderoy, "I understand. You're referring to how your house-elf attempted to murder Mr. Potter, aren't you?"

Malfoy stared at him murderously, "I have no idea what that idiot creature was up to, nor does my son know." The other Board members were watching with surprised and shocked expressions.

"But Lucius, that house-elf — Dobby, I believe his name is — freely admitted that he cursed that bludger to try to hit the boy in the head. The house-elf claims he was trying to save Mr. Potter by injuring him. Clearly, the poor creature is not right in the head."

"He certainly is not right in the head! I have no idea why he was after Harry Potter."

Lockhart stared at the angry Wizard. "I think that might be what's really at issue here."

"WHAT!"

"Have you explained how Hogwarts' most famous student," said Gilderoy, "Mr. Harry Potter, sole Heir of the Ancient and Noble House Potter, was almost killed by a rogue bludger yesterday? That I spent the night guarding him in the Hospital Wing and caught the one responsible for cursing the bludger to chase him? It was I, the world-renowned adventurer, 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 who turned the miscreant over to the Aurors!

"That it didn't kill Mr. Potter during the game yesterday was due only to the boy's exceptional flying skills. No fewer than four times did it barely miss smashing his head to paste! But Dobby was your house-elf! How can you say you don't know what the creature was doing? House-elves cannot do anything without permission, we all know that!"

He ploughed on, over the sputtering objections of the other Wizard.

"So we are left with only three possibilities. One, you ordered Dobby to kill Mr. Potter and then told Dobby to lie about it. Two, your son gave those orders, either at your behest or by himself. Or, three, the house-elf is insane."

Malfoy was in a towering rage, his face red and his hands trembling. "How dare you!" he said softly.

"The first two possibilities you categorically deny, but they still need to be stated lest we overlook something!" Gilderoy said in a condescending tone, as if stating an obvious and simple fact.

"By Merlin, YES, I DO DENY!" shouted the Wizard.

"Which means that you had in your possession for months, if not years, an insane house-elf, and you never noticed?"

Malfoy stared at him his fingers twitching towards his wand.

"How could you not notice your house-elf was insane? You are the Lord of your House! You should have noticed! It is your job to notice." The professor paused and posed dramatically, making a fist with his index finger extended and touching his temple. "Unless you couldn't," he said carefully. He dropped his hand to his side.

"I remember reading that you were an unwilling accomplice to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, eleven years ago."

Malfoy was confused at the change of subject, but still enraged. "I was imperiused, you dandified fool," he said vehemently.

"I also heard that you were crucioed several times by Him as punishments for attempting to disobey Him."

Glaring, the other Wizard merely nodded angrily.

"And brutally legilimened."

Another angry nod.

"Well, it's well known fact that too much exposure to the imperious, and you said you were under it almost monthly over a period of several years, can lead to mental problems later on in life. Things like being unable to tell reality from fantasy."

Malfoy's eyes began to bulge and his face turned even redder. He definitely was trembling. His colour reminded Harry of Vernon just before he exploded into violence.

"And the crucio, you testified he crucioed you many times for trying to disobey. And a side effect of crucio is difficulty in keeping one's temper, and allowing one's emotions to over-rule their reason.

"And unless a legilimens is performed with extreme care permanent damage to one's psyche can result. And you said HE wasn't one to care about his followers.

"REDUCTO," screamed Malfoy leaping to his feet, his wand appearing in his hand almost instantly.

As fast as Malfoy was, Harry/Gilderoy was faster — and he had been expecting such an action. Even as he dodged to the side, he said loudly, "Expelliarmus-stupefy-incarcerous!" so fast they sounded like one word. The other Wizard was unwanded, unconscious, and bound in ropes before he even realized his wand was leaving his hand. Gilderoy magically caught the Wizard before he could fall to the floor and eased him onto his chair, instead. He applied a light ennervate so the Wizard would wake in ten or so minutes.

The Wizards and Witches around the table barely had time to realize Malfoy had attacked the Professor and the duel was over.

Lockhart, dropped Malfoy's wand on the table and put his left hand on his hip. "Well. That was unexpected. Good thing I'm the best dueller in the country or he might have tagged me." He waved his wand negligently over his shoulder saying, "reparo." The reducto damaged wall fixed itself. "After all, I'm not the Professor of Hogwart's Defense Against the Dark Arts class because of my smile!" he said displaying his gleaming smile.

He glanced around the table at the stunned witnesses. "You all saw that, he attacked me without warning. And while some might view the things I said as a provocation, he is the Lord of an Ancient and Noble House and should have much better control over himself than that. In fact, I'm sure many of you have seen him receive worse provocations and shrug them off. And I wasn't even accusing him of those things, merely pointing out facts that we all know are true about exposure to those Unforgivables."

He sighed. "I feared this might happen when I met with him earlier this week. He seemed edgy, irritable, and changed moods quite quickly. And in August, he actually got into a physical fistfight with Mr. Weasley in Flourish and Blotts Bookstore. Can you imagine? The Lord of an Ancient and Noble House fighting with his hands in the street, rolling around and swinging his fists like a common Muggle thug instead of using his wand as should a proper Wizard!" He shook his head sadly.

"All those imperios, crucios, and legilimens have finally caught up with Mr. Malfoy." He looked back at the others around the table. "As you can see, his desire to have me sacked has nothing to do with my qualifications and all to do with his inability to control his temper amid perceived slights to his family and House. Such a great man to have fallen so far." He shook his head sadly.

Lockhart motioned with his wand and an unoccupied chair slid across the room to the table. He sat, wearily. "My actions late last night were taken in consideration of the safety of all students, not just Mr. Potter. I knew we had someone trying to kill our most famous student — and if he succeeded, he wouldn't stop there. Why should he? If he got away with killing a famous person, why would anyone care if he kills a nobody, he would reason." He leaned back in the chair. "He would next start attacking Muggleborn and poorly connected Half-bloods. Eventually he would attack those Pure-bloods he considered as blood-traitors, just as his former Master did, reasoning that it was for the Greater Good to do so.

"The house-elf is insane because Mr. Malfoy is himself not entirely sane anymore." Several people around the table made noises of disbelief.

He smiled, tiredly, "We all know that house-elves take their magic from their masters. If the master is not entirely sane, then neither is the house-elf, for one is completely dependent on the other.

"I'm sure that neither Mr. Malfoy nor his son, Draco, gave any kind of direct orders to Dobby, their house-elf, regarding Mr. Harry Potter. Unfortunately, house-elves get the intent of their masters through their magic. It's how they know when their master wants them, and in most cases can anticipate their orders depending on what their master is doing. Those of you with house-elves know what I mean — how many times have you called your house-elf for tea, only to have him or her hand it to you already prepared?"

Several of the older Witches nodded in acknowledgement.

"In this case, the damage done to Mr. Malfoy's mind by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was never properly corrected by the skilled Mind Healers at St. Mungos. I imagine he felt too embarrassed at admitting he needed the help of Mind Healers, and just tried to ignore it. Unfortunately, if you fail to fix the physical damage from such attacks, the physical mind slowly deteriorates until suddenly the victim begins acting in a bizarre manner, making wild accusations and claims, and acting out their base impulses instead of acting as rational Wizards."

He sighed. "For example, I do not doubt that later this week he will start to accuse me of robbing him, of swindling him, if he hasn't started already. That I was supposed to take a bribe to reverse some points lost by his son in the House Points system. Never mind that such bribery is against school regulations and for a Governor to act in such a manner is clearly an abuse of his position. And he will claim that I somehow tricked him, instead, and stole hundreds of thousands of galleons from him."

Several members protested that statement, saying that surely he must be exaggerating.

Gilderoy shook his head, "Just wait, it will happen. And remember, his house-elf would have his point of view. Why Mr. Malfoy would want to attack Mr. Potter I can't say for sure. Perhaps he wanted to strike out at his dead Dark Lord for hurting him so much, and Mr. Potter, being associated with the fall of the Dark Lord, became a convenient target — guilty by association. Maybe he was upset at how often Mr. Potter has upstaged and humiliated his son.

"At home in private he raged at the unfairness of it all. And in his unstable mind, he played with the idea of revenge on Mr. Potter. Daydreamed, perhaps, about how he would kill the boy if only he had a chance. Dobby picked that up and acted on it, much as a normal house-elf brings you your tea almost before you ask." He looked up and met their eyes. "No one will ever know for sure.

"In the meantime, out of respect for what Mr. Malfoy has done for Wizarding society over the last ten years, we should keep quiet about what happened in here tonight." Most of the Board members seemed willing to do that, by their expressions. He smiled sadly. "I'm not one to meddle on another's business, but based on Mr. Malfoy's clearly unstable actions today, I would suggest you remove him from the Hogwarts Board of Governors before his erratic actions can have a negative effect on Hogwarts and, by extension, yourselves. Just look at how he has forced you to have two meetings in one day for what is clearly an illogical personal vendetta."

Lockhart rose to his feet. "Thank you so much for allowing me to participate in this meeting. It has been most educational." He bowed and headed to the door, where he stopped and turned to face them. "Oh, by the way, I do have a suggestion for a replacement for Mr. Malfoy — Madam Dowager Longbottom. Her son is here in his second year and I think she would be a good fit for the Board."

He carefully closed the door behind him. He grinned happily; no one had noticed the anger hex he had hit Mr. Malfoy with when he first entered, nor the silent fourth spell, a mild cheering charm, in the stream he had sent at Mr. Malfoy. The Wizard would wake up in just a few minutes, well before the meeting finished. He would not be angry, as everyone would expect, but calm and a little bit pleased with himself. It would wear off in a short amount of time, and the rage would return almost as severe as before. It would be a big 'mood swing' to back up Gilderoy's argument that the Wizard was unstable.

(⊙_⊙)

Monday's dinner appointment with Rita went about as well as Gilderoy expected.

"Rita, my dear," he greeted her expansively, and swept her and her photographer into the private dining room he had rented at The Three Broomsticks. He made sure his teeth sparkled in the light. He had researched her habits and the meal provided was a fancy Sunday Roast (prepared by Dobby).

Rita took one look at the table and turned a jaundiced eye on Lockhart.

"All right, Gilderoy, what's the deal? You wouldn't waste money on a meal like this unless it was something big."

The Professor grinned. He and Rita knew each other, and both considered the other a con artist.

"Rita, you wound me!"

"Uh, huh. And?"

"Sit, sit, we can talk while we eat."

She sat and pulled out her Quik-quotes pen and a parchment.

"Uh uh, Rita. You shan't need that one. This story is juicy enough you shan't have any need to embellish it."

She raised an eyebrow in doubt, but exchanged the Quik-quotes quill for a standard dictation quill.

"Here it is in a nutshell. House Malfoy is going downhill. Fast."

She sat back in her chair and studied him. "What do you have?" she asked flatly.

He gave her the rundown on what had happened Saturday and Sunday morning, concluding, "And here are copies of the memories to back it all up." With a flourish, he began placing a half-a-dozen memory vials on the table. She watched with wide eyes.

The memories were carefully edited versions of the events of Saturday and Sunday, including the Board of Governors meeting. He also included his memories of Dobby stealing his mail and admitting closing Platform Nine-and-three-quarters. They did not contain some of the things he had explained to Harry.

She stared at the vials hungrily.

"I presume The Daily Prophet has a pensieve," he stated.

"Oh, yes," she breathed softly.

She looked up into his eyes.

"There are several things to note in these. First, one thing I did not mention is that Mr. Draco Malfoy and Mr. Ron Weasley appear to have a love/hate relationship. They are always getting into scraps with each other. Although both deny it, they seem to derive satisfaction from their interactions and seem to seek each other out to pursue them. Don't take my word for it, though, ask some of the students. Perhaps Mr. Malfoy sees Mr. Potter as a rival for Mr. Weasley's attentions and sought to remove him from the romantic field, as it were.

"Second, watch Harry's reactions to some of the things mentioned. They do not jibe with what we've been told about him. I wouldn't mention them yet just take note of them.

"By the way, I don't know if you know this, but it is impossible to be imperiused into taking the Dark Mark. You have to want the Mark. Any hesitation and it shan't take. Just as threatening a family member as blackmail won't work. So Mr. Malfoy and the other Death Eaters have been lying through their teeth.

"Perhaps you can get an interview with one of the Azkaban prisoners and give him veritaserum. It shouldn't be that hard. You should be able to get one of them to agree by simply saying they were imperiused and just don't want to admit they are ashamed of what they did for the Dark Lord. You're smart, you can figure an angle that will work.

"Ask how they get the Dark Mark and what they had to do to get it. I guarantee it will turn your stomach."

He started eating and giving her time to mull over what he had told her.

She asked a few more questions, which he readily answered.

At the end of the luncheon, as they were about to leave, he said, "Rita, you do a good job on Mr. Malfoy, if you can get him stripped of most of his influence in the Ministry, I'll guarantee a one-on-one interview with Mr. Potter. If you can get him censured and bounced from the Wizengamot, or, as I like to call it, the Wizenmaggots, I'll make sure his girlfriend is included. No Quik-quotes quills, though!"

"Potter and his girlfriend?" Harry/Gilderoy could see the greed in her eyes at the stories she could do with that!

"Well, I don't think they realize they're an item yet, but it's obvious to everyone else." He looked her in the eyes, "Rita, play nice with Harry and you'll have a steady supply of block-buster stories for years. I guarantee it. And, you'll be able to publish the definitive Harry Potter biography. With authorized photos."

She stared back, and then nodded.

On that note, they left The Three Broomsticks and went their separate ways.

(◎_⊙)

That evening, as Harry Potter was preparing for bed, a parchment and a glass of something appeared on the desk beside his bed.

Mr. Potter,

While you were in the Hospital Wing, I noticed that you are suffering from malnutrition, due, not doubt, to the neglect of your relatives. For the next several months, every night before you go to bed, a potion will appear on your work desk. Drink it ALL. Sometimes it will be vitamins and nutrients, other times it will be healing potions to correct the damage done to your body. No one except you will shall notice the glass. It is up to you if you wish to disclose this to any of your friends. If you do, I suggest you start with Miss Granger.

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 Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor.

Harry sighed heavily and dropped the note to his bed, then jumped slightly as it fell to dust before it hit the bedspread, and then disappeared. He drank the potion. Like most potions, it tasted terrible.