Chapter 24: Daffodils. 

(Note:This chapter is dedicated the whole harry potter fandom.)

Echoes resonated through Hogwarts corridors, as yet another disappointed class left what might just be the worst lessons of all.

"Don't forget to review my newest book, Magical me, to prepare for your exams." Reminded them Lockhart, flashing them an overly wide smile almost branded with the mark of aesthetic charms.

His words were the signal which brought up many a sigh from the second years, and merlin I could understand their plights, though I fortunately managed to escape them, courtesy of my benefactor.

'Fortunately for him, that is, I would have enjoyed getting rid of him.' I couldn't help but chuckle at the thought, many a plan were formed and ready in my mind palace for such occasions.

The pleasures of a well-organised mind, some would say.

I schooled my features as I spotted Padma among the crowd of unhappy Ravenclaws, the girl's mood was always atrocious after DADA. It was my duty as a friend not to put salt on the wound, so to speak.

"Welcome back to the world of the sane and sensible minded, you were rather missed." I felt daring enough to offer a small smile, who said I couldn't be in Gryffindor?

"Hello, Magnus." She greeted as she tried, and failed, to gather some enthusiast.

The girl was brilliant, even by Ravenclaw standards, and rivalled with Misses Greengrass and Granger for the prized second place. Which is why suffering through the mind-numbing stupidity-broth of the highest order that was Lockhart's teaching was even more of a torture for her clever mind.

"I can't believe they are letting him teach in Hogwarts, the number of complaints the school has received should have seen him ousted!" Padma said, giving in to the sweet calls of complaints, she knew I didn't mind listening.

"The complaints are counterbalanced by his popularity among the more foolish girls, and their similarly misguided mothers." I said, playing the devil's advocate. "Not to mention his own political power, a popularity like his would make such attempts costly without overwhelming evidence."

"I know." She sighed "But self-study can only take us this far, we will be awfully unprepared for next year's work with the shit he calls lessons. Can't they at least do something? They could have found another teacher in the meantime, or have the ministry assign someone."

'Bad idea.' I thought within the confines of my mind, my pyromaniac tendencies were not limited to pink curtains, after all.

"Language." I chided. "And while they could in theory find a replacement, it's not that simple."

"Why not? Any sensible person would see he is a fraud, and an investigation would see him done in no time. Not to mention the reasons they could use to have a replaced." Padma argued, making rather fine points.

A brilliant girl indeed.

"Power plays." I said, carefully measuring my next words all the while making sure we were away from both students and eavesdropping portrait.

Eventually, I cast a privacy charm before the rather discountenanced Ravenclaw, who quickly understood we would talk of sensible matters.

"Caution is mother of safety." I said, an adage I was rather fond of. It might've helped that I carried with me secrets that could, and would change the world.

"You need to keep in mind that beyond his admittedly well-written stories, Lockhart's real talent lies in his self-advertisement." I said, shaking my head. "He sells the image of a mighty, righteous adventurer who preaches ideals of justice and gallantry, and that's a powerful thing."

"What does it have to do with removing him? His image is obviously fake!." Padma said, rather impatient.

"Everything." I answered blandly.

"He built an image that the people of Britain believed readily, and became as much of a household name as Potter, which makes him an attractive meal for some of the most dangerous, wretched predators to ever plague this world." I said, not bothering to hide my contempt.

"What are they?" She asked, eyes shining as she sought knowledge of these foul things.

"Politicians" I almost snapped.

"For the foul-folks, Gilderoy was a perfect way to gain in popularity without any effort whatsoever. By acclaiming him and giving away awards and prizes for his achievements, they legitimize him on an international level while also earning the goodwill of his fans." I explained, letting the girl process it.

"They gain power in the international community by boasting yet another British wizard of great power." Padma said, not disappointing me in the slightest "And now they can't act against him without ruining their own reputation."

"Exactly." I confirmed "A government that cannot discern truth from lies is unreliable, and that would cause backlash from the citizens and the ICW."

"That's horrible! They are letting us deal with…with…that thing just to avoid being wrong." One might think she was exaggerating…

She was not.

"Life is hardly fair."

. +E-S+ .

"How do Hippogriffs scratch their backs?" came a dreamy voice.

"Good evening, Luna." I greeted her "I guess they'd ask another hippogriff, perhaps."

While she pondered the question some more, not fully on board with my proposition, I started filling both our plates with the delicious food the elves prepared.

"Where were you? Professor Flitwick was looking for you this afternoon." Asked Padma, playing with her food.

"I was getting some work in on potions and transfiguration." I explained, cutting my chicken. "Did you finish the assignment? Professor McGonagall sure went all out this time."

"Oh merlin." She sighed "Eleven feet of parchment on the exceptions to Farlier's laws of transformation, I heard weasley had a stroke trying to write his, potter didn't fare much better."

"Granger has her work cut out for her." I said, more interested about the success of my latest potion.

"Not quite." Padma refuted "Parvati says they had a rather big fight."

'Oh, another meaningless squabble among the golden trio.' I thought. I stopped caring about it some time ago, the three were stuck in a perpetual cycle of more or less severe fights since the start of the year.

I was really alarmed at first, thinking my existence and meddling had finally caused some noticeable change among their dynamics, even if I did my best not to interact with them in any meaningful way. But it soon became obvious that it was simply the nature of their friendship, three highly incompatible people who only really like each other's because of necessity, circumstances and a near death experience.

"No offense, but your sister's words aren't the most reliable information" I spoke the understatement of the year, the girl's rumours were the stuff of legends.

"None taken." She shrugged me off, she was after all aware of her sister's infamy and her place among the Hogwarts rumour mill.

'Though it will never equal the blasphemy of Lavender Brown's calumny.' I repressed a shudder as I thought of the highly disturbing, morally disgusting tale she concocted.

"Why rabbits?" I couldn't help but blurt out, having to use Occlumency to school my feature once more.

"Lavender Brown?" Padma asked, her face filled with sympathy.

"Yes."

"…Understandable." She said, before shooting a look at the Gryffindor table where Granger was sitting with the girls, well away from her usual circle "But Parvati seems to speak the truth, as strange as it sounds."

'Inconsequential.' I thought, I was well beyond worrying about any so-called plot.

After my intervention to settle the matter with the chamber of secrets with only a minimum of damage, I officially did one change too many to the continuity of events that led to the scenario of the books.

Potter didn't fight a basilisk, Dumbledore had the time to recognise and study a horcrux which led to him figuring out Voldemort's secrets earlier.

I looked at the old man sitting on his golden throne, eating quietly with the other teachers in the high table. It probably my mind playing tricks, but he looked much older than usual, more of a tired war veteran than an eccentric teacher who loves candies.

On the bright side, he didn't get ousted by the board of governors and thus didn't suffer the loss in political power he would have endured in canon. Which would serve him well to gather support against Voldemort's forces, upon his return.

'Yet why do I feel dissatisfied with the outcome.' I pondered, my gaze falling on a ridiculous peacock of man who was currently courting one of the most boring teachers in the school, Sinistro or something.

The man was nuisance on every aspect, not only being a walking moral disaster but also causing irritation to my best friend.

That was unacceptable.

"It seems like I will have much more work to do." I nodded to myself.

"Are you planning someone's death?" asked Luna, looking at me with wide blue eyes.

"…maybe?"

"Try not get caught, daddy said Azkaban was filled with the most horrible nargles" She immediately said, before returning to her radishes.

. +E-S+ .

In a world where you can't just pay a girl to say she was sexually harassed by the annoying math teacher, getting rid of an educator becomes considerably trickier.

Trickier, but still well within the realm of the possible.

I managed to formulate a rather decent plot to achieve my newest goal, because of course I did. And if it doesn't work…well, as my grandfather used to say, there are always at least two solutions to a problem.

It goes without saying that one of them involved hiding bodies and covering your tracks, or failing that, not dropping soap bars.

'Let us hope it doesn't come to that.' I think, as I enter professor McGonagall's office after being bid to enter.

"Good afternoon, professor." I greet the Scottish witch, a smile worming it's onto my face.

These days, I didn't have to fake my happiness as much as I used to. It is…nice, for a lack of better word. The older witch somehow manages to understand me, and for some obscure reason choose not to run away as fast she could.

She did not lie, did not deceive, did not use nor would she ever betray me. That's all I ask, and she provides that and so much more.

Which is why I answer in kind.

"Good evening, Magnus." She offers me a warm if tired smile.

Professor McGonnell was almost melting into her seat, an old piece of furniture enchanted with many a cushioning charm. She has bags under her eyes that she didn't bother hiding with aesthetic charms, she probably thought no one would notice.

"Are you alright?" I hate how fragile my voice sounds when I'm worried.

"Of course, I just had a rather…unpleasant week." She answers, somehow managing to fill the two cups on her table with tea and coffee.

I sit down on the comfy chair she always conjures before I come in, the fact that she remembered to put warming charms hits me even harder as I see just how exhausted my benefactor was.

"What happened? Is the Weasleys?" I ask, considering whether or not I should break the two jokester's legs. I am rather fond of them, but there are limits.

Professor McGonagall chuckles weakly at the implied threat, she knows what I meant, she always does. The teacher takes a sip of her tea, closing her eyes for a moment to let the beverage sooth her.

"No, Magnus, the Weasleys are no more of a nuisance than they usually are. But the week has been hectic. With the chamber of secrets closed once and for all, we ought to focus on other, less urgent but equally mind-numbing matters." She explains, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

"Lockhart." I voice my conclusions, seriously contemplating the more…drastic, ways of getting rid of the foul cur.

"Yes." She confirms "Gilderoy is indeed the source of my problems, or rather, it's his incompetence that harm the entire school. The worst thing is that many of them still believe in his so-called accomplishments, I never thought I'd have to tell someone that he cannot wrestle with werewolves to fend them off."

"The headmaster is also unable to expel him for the rest of the year, isn't he?" I ask, though I already know the answer.

She spares me a resigned nod, before returning to her tea. Seeing the wisdom in that, I savour my coffee, something I missed deeply in my earlier days in this world.

"And how does it translate into you having to deal with the fallout?" I ask, ready to find ways to ease her burden while I am getting rid of Narcissus's vainer cousin.

"The owl and newt students cannot afford such a lacklustre education, so the heads of houses decided to provide extra lessons to help them through the year. This week was mine to lead, however, I did not expect the need to fill the endless paperwork the board and ministry imposed." She says, sounding every bit of the tired educator she is.

"I expect it will end soon." I reassure her, and I bloody well meant it.

Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow, she knows I do not offer idle reassurances. It is amusing that it took her but three miserable seconds to get a grasp on my intentions, consider whether or not she should dissuade me before eventually sighing.

"Try not to get yourself in trouble, Magnus. I rather enjoy having you around, it would be a shame if we had to suspend you." The teacher says with worry in her every word, to which I couldn't help but smile stupidly.

"Only if you promise to take it easy, Professor. I have no desire to see my favourite teacher overwork herself, no matter how briefly." I answer, to which she nodded weekly.

"I believe we have a deal, young man."

That was another sweetest thing about McGonagall, she never lets me down.

'I am going to enjoy breaking you, Gilderoy.' I think, slowly sipping on my coffee.

. +E-S+ .

"Arran. Magnus." Calls the peach robed blonde wizard, the man was sitting on his death in what he considered a stylish position.

"Present." I answer, not minding the strange glances of the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. Two badgers of the second house were especially lacking in discretion, shared histories and whatnots.

"Professor McGonagall finally released you from detention. Worry not, with me as your teacher you will have no trouble catching up to your classmates." The honourless, mind-raping curs actually dares winking at me.

Unacceptable.

"Obviously." I don't bother hiding the sarcasm.

Whether he ignored it, or couldn't perceive anything but the insides of his arse is inconsequential, as he didn't react.

"I heard you are quite famous, Mr. Arran…" He starts speaking, while the fangirls he still has, mostly in Hufflepuff hanged onto his every word.

How wonderful!

"The most gifted wizard of your year, very popular with a knack for extensive charmwork. A magical genius who triumphed over countless hardships through his earlier days, yet still walked proudly and excelled, as a Ravenclaw should." He says dramatically, somehow managing to win over some of the claws along the way.

'I have less popularity than a magikarp, what in the most glorified cheese is he talking about?' Occlumency did wonder to keep my features nice and stern.

"I heard of how you were instrumental in the closing of the chamber of secrets, though I had already found it beforehand, and was very impressed. It was crude, and certainly not the best execution, but an admirable attempt nonetheless." Lockhart concludes heavily, much to my displeasure. "You remind me of my younger day, Mr. Arran"

I could mention a dozen, extremely colourful ways to describe my opinion on the matter. Alas none of them would be allowed, good manners must be kept even in the face of foolishness, as Professor McGonagall would say.

It at least explains why he was 'praising' me, it was just a very intricate way to lick his own anus with much insistence and skill.

He was very adept at that particular craft, wasn't he?

"How kind of you." I mouth off, barely resisting the urge to kick his teeth in.

The memory charm is the only magic he bothers using these days, so I am confident in my chances to fell Lockhart despite the difference in experience. In fact, I think even Malfoy could manage to defeat him…yes, Lockhart is indeed that incompetent.

The lesson was long, tiring and didn't make any sense. Spending time in that room filled with paintings of Gilderoy Lockhart, while Gilderoy Lockhart was teaching about Gilderoy Lockhart and giving us homework on Gilderoy Lockhart to prepare us for the exams that would be naught but a set of questions about Gilderoy Lockhart.

"Did I tell you my favourite colour is lilac?" He asked, a bright smile on his face that made many a twelve-year-old girl, and a couple boys, blush madly.

"Please kill me."

Why did I even come here again?

Seeing if it's the incompetent criminal or extremely malevolent version of him doesn't seem that important once you spend enough time with the fool. I now have a whole new level of respect for Padma, poor girl had to deal with him since the beginning.

I have all the information I'll ever need, and can now go ahead with Plan A.

I get up without ceremony, not needing to gather my things since I didn't bother writing any of the madness the curly haired auto-gigolo was shouting like a Gatling.

"What are you doing, Mr. Arran?" asks the paragon of self-love.

"What do you think I am doing, professor? Knitting socks for the headmaster?" I respond, earning myself an equal measure of gasps and muffled chuckles.

"I beg your pardon?" Says the mind-flayer who lacked all of the panache of said creatures.

"It's good to recognise your mistakes, professor." I praise while moving away, eager to maintain the spark of confusion I was enjoying so much. "As expected of the five times winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award."

"Why thank you…" the fool replies automatically flashing me a bright smile before freezing mid-sentence, finally realizing what was happening.

"You're very much welcome." I say, leaving the classroom without further ado.

I could hear his rather…unhappy exclamation, along with the cacophony that was the amusement of the student coupled with the outrage of those who still believed him to be a truly skilled wizard.

By the time he left the classroom, I had already cast a disillusionment charm on myself and was on my way back to the Room of Requirement for some much-needed practise.

In any other situation, pulling a move like this one would earn me months of detention at best, suspension or perhaps even outright expulsion. But this was far from a normal setting, for obvious reasons.

Lockhart is a fraud, I know it, many students know it and the staff surly know it. He is an incompetent fool likely to get us hurt, if he is even trying to teach us something remotely associated with defence against the dark arts.

He is only being kept here for political reasons, because no one else truly wanted the post and because Dumbledore felt that exposing him would be easier in an educational environment where his incompetence would be demonstrated several times a day for all those with functional brains.

The man could make me sympathise with Snape's aversion of 'dunderheads', and that was probably one Lockhart's greatest achievement that didn't involve direct criminal acts.

Returning to our rabbits, bad mouthing Lockhart wouldn't pause any real problem. I would receive a token punishment and a slap on the wrist at worst and a pat on the back from the teachers at best.

On the plus side, it allowed me to outright exclaim his incompetence in public. Putting words to what was mostly discussed in hushed whispers and urging the students to actively resist Lockhart's meaningless 'teaching' and report it to their parents who might be politically powerful enough to demand an official sacking of Lockhart.

He might even be investigated for passing works of fiction as an autobiography, even if it wasn't as good as multiple charges of illegal memory charms to literally steal other people's achievements.

Talk about plagiarism.

My actions, as personally satisfying as they were, carried a weight that went beyond my own pleasure. It was a signal, the start of a chain reaction that would eventually lead to Lockhart's end in the most humiliating way I could manage to induce.

Oh, how right I was.

. +E-S+ .

"Always a pleasure…" A enthusiast voice says, muffled by the sounds of coins shaking.

"To have business with you, dear sponsor" Finishes the other, similar but a bit lighter which I came to assimilate with George.

Their voices are a good way to differentiate the twins, among a few minor features such their nose and the length of their hair on occasion. After spending enough time with them, one should at least be able to recognise them more often than not.

"Oh, believe me, the pleasure's all mine." I smile, rather content with our newest transaction.

The twins have a rather special set of skills that make them a nightmare for people like Lockhart, who are so vain slighting them is child's play. A set of skills I would be mad not to capitalize on, when I have both their gratitude for helping their sister, and a fine quantity of gold to invest in their mischievous extra-curricular activities.

Fifty galleons were nothing to me, with the amount I continuously hoard from the Room of Requirement in both coin and treasure. Not to mention the investments in real estate and small businesses that represent a regular revenue that does not even require my supervision, the stocks I acquired would take some time to prove their usefulness and are more of a safety net than anything.

Having shares in some of the most successful companies would come in handy if all my funds were to disappear one day. Was I paranoid to do that? Maybe. Do I regret it? Not one bit.

But to the Weasley, fifty galleons were more than their house's entire savings!

Granted, the fact that they can afford to care for five children with a single revenue is already a miracle, putting money on the side for emergencies would be pushing it.

For the two of them, being paid to prank the living cheese out of Lockhart was a gift from the gods! And there was even a promise to sponsor their endeavours after Hogwarts should they want to pursue their dream of opening their business.

This, is how you win over two of the most interesting wizard of your generation while further condemning the fraudulent cur that started inconveniencing your favourite teacher.

Favourite teacher who in this case, is torn up between amusement and annoyance while looking at your truly.

"I thought I told you not to get in trouble, Magnus." She says as sternly as she could, which wasn't much at the moment judging by the ever-slightest twitch of her lips.

"That you did professor." I nod lightly, an easy smile on my face. "But I must say that I underestimated the effect an overdose of Daffodils would have on a sensible mind."

It took McGonagall less five seconds to understand what I said, which is a rather outstanding time.

"You left Nar…Professor Lockhart's class in the middle of his lesson, had a verbal altercation with him before disappearing who-knows-where." She starts reading the parchment on her desk.

"Yes ma'am." I confirm, smile ever present on my face.

It is always nice to have my efforts noticed, after all.

"You ignored the detentions he assigned you, the points he kept taking from your house, and his multiple attempts to stop through the last week "She continues, her lips twitching as she read the next parts

"Indeed."

"Professor Lockhart also claim that you had a hand in the 'grave aggression' he suffered earlier today." McGonagall says, now fully smiling, all presence of chiding being dropped as she started listing my 'crimes'.

"You replaced all of his premium shampoo with enchanted rainbow paint, his cologne with concentrated Troll sweat and vandalised each and every painting he owns to show him…embracing a clone of himself with enthusiasm." The other occupants of the room were barely managing not snicker.

"According to him, that is. I can assure you I didn't have anything to do with that." I say, not even bothering to try being convincing "I was with Professor Snape most of the morning, he accepted showing me how to brew skele gro today, right professor?"

"It is true." The potion master replies, a rather proud look on his face.

Who would have thought the head of house Slytherin would appreciate me using him as an alibi while I supposedly humiliated someone he must loath as much as I do?

"I trust that you had nothing to do with the more or less harmless prank he suffered during the week either, Mr. Arran?" Asked my head of house, no less amused by the situation.

To be truthful, out of all the heads of house present, none of them cared one bit about my supposed mischief. Lockhart's outstanding talent to give even the most composed wizards the urge to hit him multiple times with a frying pan, coupled with my good reputation among the staff made this disciplinary board nothing more than a joke.

"No professor, nor did I enjoy watching make a fool of himself." I answer.

"And all those things you didn't do, they were not supposed to encourage other students to try their defence spellwork against Professor Lockhart, were they?" Asks Albus twinkling-eyes Dumbledore, from his position on his desk.

"Of course, they were not, it would mean he is the ineptest teacher we've had so far, which he isn't." I am starting to enjoy this this game.

"And you didn't distribute flyers showing every single inconstancy in your teacher's 'autobiographies' while explaining why it is impossible?" The headmaster continues, a small smile on his face.

"No, headmaster. They were distributed by owls, I would never insult their profession by taking it upon myself to be a messenger." I deny "However, I did write the original before copying it with the Gemino charm. I am honestly surprised no one bothered with the challenge Professor Lockhart doubtlessly left for us through his book."

"Challenge?" says a perplexed professor Sprout.

"Of course, he must have done it on purpose." I nod as seriously as I can. "Why else would someone as skilled as Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile-Award ever claim that he held vampires at bay with his own bare hands?"

Suddenly, the door to the headmaster's office, where I was currently being interrogated on my supposed transgressions were opened by a rainbow haired wizard that vaguely smelled like spoilt milk.

"Did he confess yet?!" he says, almost shouting as he was still grieving for his naturally curly blonde hair. The paint was enchanted to stay for months, and he obviously couldn't remove it by himself with his abysmal skills in any magic beyond the memory charm.

"Ah professor Lockhart." I smile, interrupting the headmaster's answer. "We were just talking about how brave you must be, publishing your memoirs where you humiliate both vampires and werewolves without fear of retribution."

"What?" It seems like mentioning his works is the best way to catch his attention.

"Your books." I answer way too happily "You must be the most loathed enemy of the vampire covens and werewolves' packs in Britain with the way you publicly slighted them."

A rather uncomfortable silence followed my words, I was keeping this one for a special occasion, and am thus intent on inflicting lethal damage to Lockhart's underwear.

"That…is actually true." The headmaster nod after moment of consideration, it was a bit too simple for my taste however.

"It is not unheard of for dark creatures to organize hunts, dealing with the foes who slighted them in the most painful, torturous way they can imagine." Says Snape, a wicked smile on his face "They would start by giving a warning, terrifying the wizards for days while he waits for their move. But their attack is always unexpected, forcing the offending wizard to flee for days as they hound him, playing with their prey before ripping it asunder, savouring every sliver of hurt they extract."

"…"

I knew we could always trust Snape to terrify people with words alone, but this…

"Did he just faint?" Asked Flitwick, looking at the ashen faced wizard that was laying on the floor.

I think dealing with Lockhart is going to be one of my favourite activities.

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

Hey guys! It's Uncle Sheo!

This chapter is way longer than usual, hope you'll like it.

Peace and Cheese!