Chapter 10

I turn around and lean against the door for a bit of respite, I have constantly been working and doing something since I woke up in that bed, and it has been months since then. I haven't even taken a moment to relax once since I began to advance my knowledge.

If I am honest, I am a bit tired now. So maybe I can take a break for a while. But, on the other hand, I have finally sorted out my own mind, which was my main goal, so perhaps it is time to relax and take it easy, start exploring this magical world, and learn some magic while doing so.

Apart from Voldemort, there isn't much to be scared of. All those little minions of his are too scared to try anything until he comes back, so it should be fine for me to stop cowering in here and go out there and live my brand new life. At least until Harry Potter reenters the magical world, which isn't for a few months at the very least since I entered the world a year before his first year, and even then, I have quite a while till anything dangerous happens outside of Hogwarts.

Hmm, I must have been thinking about this for quite a while since I can no longer hear that annoying little shit outside the door. Digby must have got tired and left after using those fat little T-Rex arms of his for so long, I suppose I am being a little bit mean about the guy, but he has just pissed me off so much over these last few months. I can't wait till I have acclimated to this new world so that I can give this man his walking papers and get him far away from me so that he may never besmirch my sight again with his-

"Lockhart, I know you are in there. Open the door, now."

The words travel into my ear, and I feel a shiver down my spine. In any other situation, I would have ignored the words, but with the back of my head resting right against the door, it was as if his mouth was right up against my ear and spoke directly down my ear canal, but even that, I could have shrugged off though, what really made me nervous was the fact that he let those words out typically instead of shouting them.

All this time, he had been crying outside my door like I had knocked his daughter up and he was coming for my ass with a shotgun, but just now, he spoke calmly and relatively quietly, as if he knew I was right against the door, and so he had no reason to shout.

"I know you can hear me. I know that you never went to Antarctica either. I know that you have never done a single thing in any of your books, and you stole the achievements of better wizards than yourself. I also know that if you don't open this door right now, then I am going to head straight to the daily prophet, to Rita Skeeter, and tell her every dirty little thing I know about you. It is up to you. Open the door right now, or never leave your home again."

I... I have no choice. This guy somehow knows that I am right on the other side of this door, which means that he most probably somehow knows my exact location as well, so I can't just pretend to not be inside. I might have joked about it before, but this is not one of those Jehovah's witnesses at the door that you can just hide from, and they can't do anything even if they know you are there.

If I don't open the door, then there is every chance that this guy will go to the Daily Prophet or, even worse, Rita Skeeter. He somehow knows about old Gilderoy's past misdeeds, and if they are revealed, the whole of the wizarding world will ostracise me and turn against me.

Digby Duplicitous Digworth really has me up against the wall, and I am just going to have to take it, at least for now, until I know more about the situation and can figure out some way to turn the tables on him. Resigned to my fate, I push myself up off the door and turn around to grasp the handle once more, but this time my Occlumency is in full force.

What is the worst that can happen? Digby has been my cowering little lackey for a few years now, constantly following my orders like a good dog. However, it seems in the few months I've been away from him, he has grown a little backbone. Or, at the very least, without me, he has probably been making shit money, and he can't bear it anymore.

I am thinking with my complete rationale, and this is the only logical option I have right now in order to live the carefree life I want to lead in the future. So I use my free hand to unlock the door and take off the chain, and then I pull down the door handle and pull the door by an inch, stretch it, a fragment out of its frame. There is no turning back now.

Pulling the door slightly more open, I peek out through the slight gap, but I am confused to see something wooden pointing in my fa- Oh shit, that's a wa-

"Stupefy."

------------------------------------

Ow, what the hell just hit m-

"SLAP!"

"Ugh." Son of a bitch, what the hell is the thing that just hit me now?

"Wakey, wakey Mr Lockhart. Rise and shine." An annoying voice calls out as I shake my head to try and get rid of all the thoughts clouding my mind and focus on my surroundings. Something is seriously wrong. I remember I was working on my Occlumency, and then there was knocking at my door, and Dig- DIGBY THAT BAST-

"SLAP!"

"Ughh." the slap hits my face, but it doesn't disorient me this time. Instead, it just puts everything in my head back in place, and I quickly look up to see that son of a bitch shaking his hand, probably never having felt the sting on his palms before having had magic do everything for him in his life.

I quickly move my eyes around to take stock of my situation and realise that I am sitting on a chair in front of the fireplace in my living room, and I can feel the ropes tightly binding me to the chair. So Digworth probably used the levitation spell to place me on the chair. No way he is doing it himself. His arms looked like they were made of jelly, and then he fired an Incarcerous at me to bind me to the chair.

I try to wiggle around and find some leeway as he focuses on his hurting palm, but no matter how I struggle and subtly test my bonds, the ropes don't move, remaining steadfast. So how do I get out of this situation? I don't have anything within my hands or near my hands that I can use to cut the ropes. The ropes themselves are firm around my chest, and having just been conjured, there are no frays or anything.

The chair itself is not nailed to the ground, so I can at least move it, but I don't have enough mobility to stand up straight with the chair still attached to my backside. Lockhart did look after his body but only so that it was aesthetically pleasing enough, meaning that while there is far more muscle than the average wizard, there is not enough to stand up with the chair.

So the best I can do at the moment is push myself to the side and hope the chair breaks, in turn, loosening the ropes. Still, I don't want to rely on luck at this moment, though if the worst comes to worst, I may have to.

"It hurts me to use such Muggle methods, but there is something rather satisfying about causing pain with your own hands and feeling the impact on the flesh of another. I would still much rather use a wand. But, luckily for you, that is not an option. Magic leaves traces, and I very well can't be leaving any clues for the Aurors that find your corpse." `The bastard says while looking at his hand with a contradictory mixture of disgust and satisfaction. All the while, he has his wand in his other hand but hearing that he can't use his wand, I feel emboldened.

Digby might have said that he is going to kill me, but if he isn't using his wand, then there isn't a lot he can do with his pathetic body.

"DIGWORTH, WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING!? UNTIE ME THIS INSTANCE, RIGHT NOW!" I shout, not expecting him to do anything of the sort but knowing that he won't use his wand. I do so anyway. Without his wand, the most he can do is use his fists to attack me. While that may hurt, it won't kill me, but making him angry will take him off guard and may open an avenue for me to take.

I don't know what sort of avenue, but I am doing the only thing I can think of in the hopes that he will do something to my advantage. Of course, what I am hoping for in my head is for him to come and punch me in the stomach and for the rope to get caught in his ring.

Of course, the rope will unravel when he pulls his hand away, freeing me from his clutches. Still, I know this is just my deluded and frightened mind coming up with unrealistic thoughts because there is no way that will occur, and Digworth isn't even wearing any rings.

"SHUT UP, YOU DISGUSTING HALF-BLOOD!" Again, I receive another slap for my efforts, but this time I don't grunt or let any sound out of my mouth, though nothing happens as I expected in my panicked mind.

"I did not want to use my wand because it might leave some traces, but listening to your annoying voice again has just reminded me how much I hate you, so I am willing to risk it. I want to cast a severing charm and chop off all of your fingers, one by one and use an Incendio to burn each of your little toes, cast a freezing charm on your ear, and then smash it to bits. But you see, that leaves traces, and I can't leave any trails." He says while looking condescendingly down at me, tapping each part of my body with his wand while saying what he wants to do to them, but then he says he can't do that, which confuses me.

"But, why does it matter if you leave traces? You are planning on killing me anyway. why wouldn't you just get rid of my body?" I ask with morbid curiosity. I don't really have much else to be doing right now. The more information I can gather, the better chance I have of surviving, no matter how trivial the information may seem.

"I can't hide your body. I need it to be found, or else why am I even doing this? But enough about that. You don't need to worry about what will be done with your body. You will be dead after all. But being magnanimous, I will allow you to live for a bit longer, and we can have some fun in that time. There are many spells that can be used without leaving a trace behind, and I have perfected the correct usage of each of them so that they don't leave a trace in my time following the Dark Lord. If only that Potter brat was never born, I wouldn't have to waste my time with a pathetic Half-Blood like you."

"T-The Dark Lord? V-Voldemort..."

A cruel grin stretches across his face, and he points his wand toward me.

"Crucio."