chapter 16

Ah, Severus! Just the Wizard I wanted to see!" They were in the dungeons. Professor Snape hadn't been at breakfast, apparently taking it in his rooms. Gilderoy met the man just as he was leaving his office.

The Wizard scowled. He was nearly as unhappy to see Lockhart as the other was pleased to see him. Unfortunately, it being a Saturday and the holidays, he couldn't beg off claiming a class or other pressing matter.

Gilderoy steered the Potions Master back towards his office, "I have a proposal for you, one which I'm sure you will see great advantages in accepting. And you know 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 would never steer you wrong!" He paused for the expected fawning that most of his fans rendered unto him, but the other professor only scowled. Lockhart pretended to ignore that reaction. The pompous professor continued as if he had received the anticipated response, and raising an eyebrow in inquiry, said, "What would you say if I told you a Second Year student has successfully brewed a perfect cauldron of polyjuice?"

The other sneered at him, "I would call you a liar. That is a NEWT level potion and quite out of the skill range of any non-OWLed student. And I know none of the dunderheads in my Second-year classes could even come close to doing it." Disgusted, he made to move around the D.A.D.A. professor.

Lockhart lifted a small vial out of his pocket and held if before Snape's eyes, grinning widely and showing off his beautiful teeth.

Snape sighed and glared at Lockhart in a manner indicating he felt much put upon, but he took the vial and pulled out his wand. After a diagnostic spell, he looked over to Gilderoy and frowned. He cast another. Then he removed the cap and looked at the fluid. He waved his hand over the open vial and took a delicate sniff from a safe distance — some potions were too dangerous to risk sniffing directly from the mouth of their vial. He gave a measured look at the other professor as he resealed the small bottle, scepticism clear. He sneered, "From whom did you buy this?"

Gilderoy gave him another broad smile and struck a pose as he lifted his wand. "I, Gilderoy Lockart, Adventurer Extraordinaire, swear on my magic that the vial of polyjuice I just gave you was brewed by a Second Year student in Hogwarts, brewing completed yesterday, unassisted by any older student, adult, or other magical creature. So Mote It Be! Lumos." The wand lit-up brightly.

Snape's expression changed to one of incredulity, and he again tested the vial.

"Who?" he demanded. If what Gilderoy had said was true then this was a talent that he wanted to train.

"Ah, that's the rub, my dear fellow. Before I reveal that student's identity, I need your promise to listen to the complete story and my offer before making any rash decisions."

Professor Snape studied the dandy standing before him, scowling, glancing at the vial in his left hand. This had to be a trick he just knew it. He gave a small sigh, but any student capable of such a remarkable job of potioneering was a genius. It would be a real joy to have someone of that calibre in his classes. But how? How had he not noticed such an extraordinary talent?

Gilderoy steered the man into his office. After sitting, he placed the vial prominently in the centre of Snape's desk, and then pulled a tiny box out of one of his pockets and put it on Snape's desk. He tapped the box with his wand and it quickly grew to a reasonable shoebox size. He leaned back in his chair, put his elbows on the arm supports, and laced his fingers together in front of him.

"This whole Chamber of Secrets fiasco has incited four students to search for the so-called Heir of Slytherin. They decided that the only thing to do was to sneak into Slytherin House and spy for information, under the mistaken impression that one Draco Malfoy was the hidden heir."

He could see that Snape anticipated where this was going — Harry Potter! The Potions Professor's face reddened in anger.

"In their infinite wisdom, they decided that the solution was to brew polyjuice. They set up their cauldron in a remote location and one of them took on the task of brewing the difficult potion. The brewing started the day after Mr. Creevey was petrified. For six weeks and six days she brewed and yesterday it was completed." He waved at the vial.

"My stolen boomslang skin!" The professor started to get to his feet.

"Ah! Wait until I finish," Gilderoy chided, "You promised."

Glaring, the irate professor subsided, slumping back into his chair. It was only his promise to listen to the whole story that prevented him from immediately raging out of the room and tracking down Harry and his posse, and tossing them out Hogwarts' gates.

"I, the great 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 immediately noticed something was going on when they started." Oh, yeah, he was laying it on thick. "I did not survive my many remarkable adventures by not being observant, don't you know! For details, refer to my many books."

"I have quite the eye for detail, you know, finely-honed by years of tracking deadly monsters in their own home ranges." He was laying it on a bit thick just to annoy the other professor. "I have been watching the brewer at work this entire time. A simple alert charm on their hidden cauldron warned me whenever she, or anyone else, approached it." He smiled "My house-elf watched them quite closely to make sure nothing went wrong with her potion, with strict instructions not to interfere." He paused. "Dobby!"

The potions professor barely changed expression as the named elf POPed into the room. Dobby was dressed quite spiffily for an elf. Instead of a ragged towel, he had what appeared to be a lavender towel worn as a mid-back-length cape and another teal thigh-length towel-set tailored as robes, with pockets, all meticulously ironed. In addition, he wore one sock of aqua blue and the other a deep reddish brown. The edge of a pair of gloves were artfully protruding from a side pocket and a handkerchief from a breast pocket. Even for a Wizard he would have been rather nattily dressed!

Gilderoy knew that this revelation of his "owning" Dobby would provoke some serious thinking on the other Wizard's part. But it was necessary.

"Yes, I hired the house-elf that Malfoy released." He gave the other Wizard an aloof expression. "The house-elf is no longer affected by the insanity of his previous owner and is quite an efficient fellow." He turned his attention to the creature, "Dobby, is that the vial of polyjuice you decanted from the cauldron in Myrtle's toilets?" He pointed at the vial on the desk.

"TOILETS!?" Snape exclaimed, shock overcoming his anger. "This was brewed in a toilet stall?" He sat upright.

Dobby gave the vial a close look without touching it. "Yes, Master Lockhart, it is."

"And did you watch the brewer of this polyjuice potion every time she checked on the potion, and stirred and added ingredients?"

"Yes, Master Lockhart." Dobby was good behaviour today, not nearly as excitable as he was around Harry Potter. If he only knew!

"Did you assist the brewer in any way, shape, or form in brewing this polyjuice potion?"

"No, Master Lockhart."

"Were there any others besides the brewer and her three companions who approached the cauldron while it was brewing, and did they do anything to it?"

"Only the ghost Moaning Myrtle saw the cauldron, and she merely looked at it, Master Lockhart. The brewer's companions sometimes checked it while she was not there, but they never did anything to it." They had carefully rehearsed what Dobby would say — only the truth, but in syntactically complete sentences without the hyperactivity he normally displayed.

Gilderoy smiled at the house-elf. "Return to your duties, please."

"Yes, Master Lockhart," Dobby said, POPing out immediately afterwards.

"Now, don't get your knickers in a bunch," the blonde-haired dandy said to the fuming Potion Master. "This," he continued, tapping the box on the desk with his wand, "contains all the ingredients required for polyjuice, including boomslang skin. Enough to make twelve doses." He smiled broadly as he lounged back in his chair. "Everything in the box is, of course, under a stasis spell to preserve its freshness."

"Granger!" sneered the still irate Potions Master. "I'll see her and Potter expelled for this!" He almost smiled at the thought of finally tossing Potter out on his ear. That that know-it-all Mud-blood would go with him made it all that much more satisfactory.

This had always puzzled Harry. Snape knew that Harry was essential to Dumbledore's plans. Yet he persisted in this fantasy that Albus would punish Harry by forcing him to leave. Was the Wizard so far removed from reality that he couldn't see his hopes would never see fruition no matter how terribly Harry might act? Why, Harry/Gilderoy suspected Harry could kill Draco and the Headmaster would dismiss it as an unavoidable accident and allow him to escape serious punishment.

"I doubt that," Gilderoy said, disparagingly. "After all, you now have your private stock replenished with double what she took, so you can't claim that as a reason. In addition, when word gets out just how good of a potioness she is, others will ridicule you for allowing such a talent to escape your training. Not to mention for failing to recognize what was right in front of you." He smirked at the Wizard. "And it would be like cutting off your nose to spite your face.

"Why, I believe not even the incomparable Miss Evans could have accomplished that potion in her Second Year." It was a calculated risk, mentioning her in this context, but it should jolt the immature git into thinking twice before rejecting Gilderoy's offer outright.

Professor Snape scowled, seething inside, barely containing his fury at the popinjay daring to mention Lily. But he was right, Snape had to admit to himself. Lily, talented though she was, would have had a great deal of difficulty brewing polyjuice as a Second Year.

Lockhart could practically read his mind just from his expressions. Severus hated to admit it, but that soft-hearted old goat-shagger of a Headmaster would see the return of the ingredients as levelling the account. In fact, he would probably award her points for doing it! And while he disliked the Mud-blood, if it was true that she could brew a perfect batch of polyjuice as a Second Year, to ignore her talents would call into question his abilities.

"Now, instead of giving her detentions forever, as I'm sure you burn to do, you should make her your assistant instead. Not apprentice, though. There are many reasons for not doing that, as you well understand. For the rest of the year, though, give her all the homework assignments from the First Year students to correct."

Snape looked ready to explode.

"Just imagine how much private research you can accomplish now that you no longer have to waste three or four hours every week correcting the dunderheaded blatherings of incompetent and venial First Years."

Snape still looked angry, but now there was a bit of thoughtfulness in it. That was an enticing offer. More time for his projects. Less time wasted on incompetent and troll-like idiots.

"And you can foist off some of Madam Pomfrey's potion requests onto her, giving you more private time still. I imagine that if you kept the total time to under five hours a week, no one, least of all her, would complain. Five hours to devote to your own work, every week. Five hours you don't have to waste monitoring detentions — she can watch them clean cauldrons as easily as yourself." Which was how the Wizard normally conducted his detentions, grading homework assignments while the students scrubbed cauldrons.

"And when your Slytherin students object? Pick the best potioneer to grade some of the other years. Once word of the tedium, and lost study time, gets out they will stop complaining."

Snape sat silent for several minutes. It wasn't hard to follow his thoughts just by observation. While he hated Harry Potter, and by extension, anyone he associated with, he didn't really hate those others except for how they wasted his time. Clearly, Granger had a talent. A talent he could use to give himself more time for his projects and research.

"And next year, you can give her both First and Second Year assignments to correct, giving you even more time while destroying what little free time she has!"

Snape stared coldly at the D.A.D.A. professor. "Why. Why are you doing this." He paused a moment. "You didn't have to tell me this, nor replace the stolen ingredients. Nor place such a hard sell on the Witch's talents. If you had said nothing, I never would have known — suspected. But never known."

Gilderoy gave the other a chagrined smile. "Well . . . things didn't go as smoothly as they should have." He shrugged elegantly. "While the polyjuice was brewed to perfection, their plan did not go as efficiently." He sighed. "One impersonated Mr. Crabbe and snuck into the Slytherin Common Room behind Mr. Malfoy only to discover that the Wizard knew as little as they did about the Heir."

Snape was impressed in-spite of himself at their success. And farther infuriated him that they had defiled his Slytherin House.

Lockhart smiled ruefully. "Miss Granger, on the other hand, failed to acquire a hair from Miss Bulstrode, instead getting a hair from the Witch's cat."

"WHAT!" That did bring a startled expression to the other professor's face.

"Yes, she is now in the Hospital wing. A quite cute cat-girl, if I say so myself."

Snape leaned back in his chair, smirking. "Serves the little thief right!"

Harry/Gilderoy waved his hand dismissively, "That doesn't matter. Nothing a glamour can't hide until it wears off. However, what I need from you is your cooperation in fabricating a story to back her up. You see, she plans to write a thesis on her human-to-animal polyjuice accident — isn't it interesting that polyjuice, which normally wears off in an hour, appears to go for weeks when an animal hair is used? When the Witch takes Arithmancy I'm sure she'll get another thesis out of analysing what happened and discovering why. Between the two I'm sure she'll easily acquire both her Potions' and Arithmancy N.E.W.T.s in Sixth Year.

"I thought we could say you had a client request some polyjuice and drafted the girl to brew it as a test, having noticed her remarkable talent in the classroom. The cat-hair was just a bit of accidental contamination, and is a cautionary tale on verifying your materials before using them. That she is now your assistant would provide additional evidence."

"And why should I cooperate in your little plot?" the angry professor sneered, looking for any reason to deny Lockhart his objective.

Gilderoy smiled broadly and drew out three small vials. "Would two ounces of Basilisk blood and a quarter-ounce each of Basilisk Eye Fluid and Venom be a sufficient incentive to procure your agreement?" He placed the three vials on Snape's desk. The value of the three easily totalled more than Professor Snape earned in two and a half years at Hogwarts. And certainly far more than the school's yearly ingredients' budget.

Professor Snape, it seemed, was more than willing to be of assistance. He did insist that Harry suffer a week's detention for the ingredients wasted when their pyrotechnics disrupted their class and gave Hermione time to pillage his private stock. He, of course, would change his protection enchantments so that such a tactic would fail in the future.

A small price to pay, Gilderoy thought. And wasn't Hermione going to be surprised when Professor Snape walked into the Hospital Wing and dropped off all those ungraded scrolls with the orders that she was now his grading assistant! One day of training her in what Snape expected and Snape would get many days of fruitful private potioneering in exchange. And the girl would be deliriously happy at the prospect of being a Professor's assistant!

The greasy-haired git was already planning how to use his newly created free time, the blonde ponce noticed as he left the dour Wizard's office.

A visit home to his family took the rest of the day. His mother was overjoyed to see him and quizzed him relentlessly on his new position. He told her of his adventure with the Basilisk and the coming news-story next week. He also told them he was moving them to a new home that better suited his position in life — Lord Black! His two older sisters were also visiting and he extended his offer of new homes to them, as well. They made plans to visit several House Black properties in Muggle areas, as well as contingency plans to build anew if they didn't like any of those. Nothing said they had to move to an existing residence!

And they were delighted to hear that they wouldn't have to take care of their new homes themselves as he planned to make sure each had a house-elf to handle the cooking and cleaning. That this also allowed him to put up Protective Enchantments to keep them safe from Death Eaters and others jealous of his fame and fortune wasn't mentioned.

Gilderoy planned to see more of his family in the future, now that he had assured his future, and he wanted nothing to interfere with that goal.

Mr. Potter followed through Sunday morning with visiting Hermione and getting the daily pictures, according to the list Gilderoy provided. It took longer this time because they both kept referring to the list, but soon it would become a rote procedure, done automatically without much thought. Madam Pomfrey at first opposed the idea, but after consulting with Gilderoy, had no objections to Harry being the lone thesis photographer. He was, already, one of her favourite patients, with unfailing manners always following her orders to the letter. He would never do anything inappropriate she knew — especially after Gilderoy casted a suitable confundo on her, of course.

Madam Pomfrey decided that Hermione, with a bit of a nudge — no spells! — from Harry/Gilderoy, could attend her classes under a glamour during the day. She had to spend the nights in the Hospital Wing, though. Harry/Gilderoy was sure Harry would sneak in under his Cloak for many of those. Nothing naughty would happen, they'd just talk and study, he was sure. Harry in Second Year was far too passive and afraid of rejection to initiate anything that others even might even remotely consider naughty. No to mention he would be terrified of bolloxing up his friendship with the little Witch. And he knew Hermione had a solid grounding in sex education and would keep things under control.

Sunday night, well after curfew, found Gilderoy sauntering up Diagon Alley towards the offices of The Daily Prophet. Rita was surprised to see him arrive, but relaxed when he explained, "I wanted to see tomorrow's paper tonight. And make sure we both are happy with what appears." She had smirked, she knew he would heartily approve of her block-buster articles.

While waiting for the first copies to roll off the press, Harry/Gilderoy had talked an enthusiastic Rita into giving him a tour of the printing plant. It was a simple enough matter to get her to leave him to watch over the typesetter as he laid her article to bed.

With a Notice-Me-Not in place, he quickly carved a few runes into the press's ink barrel — Trust, Believe, and a set that made you want to read the entire paper. Why he had never thought to do this for his books, he couldn't understand. Sure, he would have had to research the runes, but the pay-off was well worth the effort. Harry wouldn't let him do it now, but still . . . .

The runes, powered by Gilderoy's initial charge and without a charging rune of their own, would run down in about a week. By then, everyone would be praising him and distrustful of the Great Dumbledore. He would have to make it a habit to recharge them whenever an appropriate article appeared. Eventually, he would remove them lest someone find and abuse them. And put a few self-charging runes on the presses to remove any enchantments should any others with questionable moral try to repeat his trick with the ink.

After taking a couple of copies of the freshly printed newsparchments, he returned to Hogwarts. He debated just staying awake but decided to nap the five hours before his next appointment.

At five A.M., he arrived in the Ministry's atrium and found his way to the Aurors' offices, where he accosted a tired Wizard filling out paperwork at his desk.

"Excuse me, my good Wizard," He grinned his brilliant smile. "But 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, need to speak with Madam Bones, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

The man stared at him, shook his head, and said, "She shan't be in until eight."

"Ah, well, that just shan't do." He pulled out a copy of The Daily Prophet and showed the man the newsparchment. The man stared, astonished, at the picture and headlines dominating the front page — Lockhart Kills Deadly Monster! And below that, Mystery Monster Stalked Hogwarts' Students, One Confirmed Dead! And below that it said, Headmaster Befuddled for 50 Years, Did Nothing to Protect Students. A side article's headline asked, Is Dumbledore Senile or Incompetent? The Wizard reached to grab the paper to read it, but Harry put it back in his pocket — he was pleased to see his runes worked.

"I think," he continued, "That Madam Bones will be most upset if you tell her you could have warned her of this before the public saw it. And didn't."

Ten minutes later, he was sitting in her office, watching as she scowled while reading the newsparchment. It was loaded with articles about the Chamber, monsters that could kill or petrify with a look, the Four Founders, and an absolutely brilliant piece, in Gilderoy's opinion, about him and his accomplishments, including his tenure so far at Hogwarts. It was by far the best piece in the entire newsparchment.

Rita had done a masterful job researching the history of the Chamber. She had the entire fiasco involving Hagrid down pat, ridiculing both the Ministry and the previous Headmaster, Armando Dippet, for ignoring the facts and going for a simple scapegoat — Harry's memory of what Tom had shown him had helped considerably. She had then pointed out how Dumbledore, as Headmaster, had known, or at the very least, suspected the truth. And yet failed in every particular to correct the injustice as well protect the students in his school from being at risk from the Basilisk in the future when he became Headmaster — the least he could have done was seal up the known access point for the beast, the Witches' Toilets on the First Floor! But he had done nothing for Hagrid or the students. He had just wasted fifty years with his wand up his . . . well, Rita let the readers finish that sentence themselves.

She had then pointed out how he had done nothing this year to protect the students from what he clearly knew was a dangerous beast — not even closing the toilets that he had to know hid the entrance the beast had used. He had played fast and loose with their lives. Only by the most incredible luck was a student petrified instead of killed, unlike the previous time with Myrtle when someone had opened the Chamber.

And how he had been oh so content to wait until Spring to cure the petrified boy and find out what had happened! It had taken the intervention of the skilled and expert Professor of the school's D.A.D.A. to acquire the proper ingredients to cure the student, at the professor's own expense, no less. The famous Professor Lockhart was more concerned with the welfare of the students than the school's Headmaster! The Headmaster obviously put money ahead of worry about a student's education. Then she had gone into a rant about how little he seemed to protect the students, using last year's four attempts on Harry Potter's life as an example.

Her concluding paragraph pointed out that it took a newly-hired Gilderoy Lockhart to deduce the identity of the monster, find its lair, and deal with the threat. And Gilderoy Lockhart, brilliant world-famous celebrity though he might be, had only graduated from Hogwarts twelve years before! He was a new-hire, for Merlin's sake! What was the Great Headmaster Dumbledore, the so-called greatest Wizard of the century, doing during the last fifty years that he couldn't manage this? Was he incompetent? Was he senile? Or did he know and simply not care about the students? "It seems," Rita wrote, "that Dumbledore can't be so great if a new-hire, Gilderoy Lockhart, can do what he hadn't been able to do in fifty years! Does that mean that Gilderoy is a greater Wizard than Dumbledore?"

Finally, the Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement slammed the paper down on her desk and glared at him.

He smiled wryly. "Considering that the Headmaster never told the parents that a Basilisk has been running around in Hogwarts since Halloween, I thought you might be interested.

"Bearing in mind that Dumbledore is also Grand Sorcerer; Chief Warlock of the Wizenmaggots; Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards; and Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, perhaps it's just a matter of one man being stretched too far. From my understanding, each of those jobs would take the full-time attention of one Wizard, yet he is trying to do them all himself. Perhaps he should pass up on three of those positions and devote his full attention to just one?

"In any case, while I am not one to tell someone else how to do their job, perhaps you should interview the Headmaster and the Hogwarts' staff today as to the situation there over the last few months. Find out what they knew, when they knew it, and what they did to safeguard the lives of your niece and the rest of the students."

From the sour expression on her face, he knew that the Headmaster was not going to be given easy, simple questions to answer.

"You know from the memories you took from Mr. Potter last November how dangerous the castle was last year to him. This year the danger seems to have expanded to include all the students. Can you imagine the loss to the Wizarding world if the Basilisk had happened into the Great Hall during a Feast? An entire generation wiped out in mere seconds! And Headmaster Dumbledore never seemed worried in the slightest."

He paused, as if a new thought had struck him, "Is it possible the Headmaster was in control of the beast?" He stood as if horrified at the thought. "No, that couldn't possibly be true, he is the leader of the Light, after all." He sighed. "Maybe he is a Gray Wizard and has managed to fool us all this time." He paced back and forth across her office for a minute before sitting back down.

The Head of the D.M.L.E. looked distinctly unhappy at that thought.

"Because it is the hols, you needn't worry about disrupting the school's schedule. The Headmaster always is at breakfast, and if you arrive before the owls do, at eight A.M., you can catch him before he has seen The Daily Prophet or received a warning from a friend who has seen it. Don't give him time to think up a suitable explanation and tell the rest of the staff what they should say. When he does see The Daily Prophet he will already have told you his version. If his explanations are lacking when compared with the known facts . . . well, need I say more about trusting his veracity in the future?"

"To start things off," he withdrew a small vial from his pocket and placed it on the edge of her desk, "here is what happened in The Chamber of Secrets.

"I skipped some of the more mundane aspects of my confrontation — I'm sure you'll understand — I do want to put out a book of the entire experience, you know." He knew she would have several others view the memories with her, and they would spread rumours across the country, raising anticipations at seeing the rest of the week's The Daily Prophet. And spreading his fame that much farther.

She nodded slowly while looking at the vial of memories.

He stood, "Well, now that that's all sorted, I'll get back to Hogwarts. You should have plenty of time to review that memory and prepare an investigative team for the staff. I would suggest that the Headmaster be interviewed here at the Ministry while the staff is interviewed at the school. You might want to dispatch some Aurors to interview a few of the more important Hogwarts' children at their homes, preferably before The Daily Prophet arrives to complicate things. Perhaps Mr. Longbottom, Miss Abbott, the Weasley children, Mr. Malfoy, your niece, and so forth. You needn't bother with Mr. Potter or Miss Granger, you will see them in the memories I left you. Besides, I will be conducting them to Gringotts for some unfinished business today. If you would like to speak with them, I would be happy to escort them here on Tuesday.

He started towards the door. "I expect I'll see you around seven, hmm?" He stopped at the door. "Oh, by the way, that hidden room under the drawing room in the Malfoy's Manor, was it everything you had hoped to find out about Malfoy senior? Perhaps you should set an alert and tag spell on the Floo's to the Ministry watching for the Dark Mark to see if you can detect any Death-Eaters that you might not know about. Hmm?"

(⊙_◎)

Monday morning at Hogwarts was everything Gilderoy Lockhart wanted.

The Aurors, and Madam Bones, arrived at seven just as breakfast appeared on the round table the Headmaster had prepared for the holidays — Gilderoy was sure she used a time-turner to arrange everything and still get here on time. Gilderoy was the only one in attendance and he graciously invited them to dine with him while they waited for the Headmaster. Half an hour later, Albus Dumbledore strode confidently into the Great Hall. He knew, of course, the moment the Aurors had crossed the protective enchantment lines that they were here. He was unaware of any problems in the school that might require the Aurors, so he was not in any hurry to dress and meet them in the Hall.

"Ah! Madam Bones," he said as he entered, "What brings you to my illustrious school?" He smiled at her genially, eyes twinkling.

The Head of the D.M.L.E. put down her tea and stood. "Headmaster Dumbledore. Something has come up of extreme importance regarding the safety of students at Hogwarts and I wanted to discuss the matter with you at the Ministry."

"Oh? Really?" He paused a moment, his grandfatherly aspect in full force. "I assure you, Madam Bones, that all the students are completely safe at Hogwarts. Hogwarts' protective enchantments are second to none in Europe. Hogwarts is the safest place in the world," he quietly affirmed, smiling reassuringly at her.

"Interesting," she said, "Because I have it on good authority that there has been a Basilisk wandering the halls of Hogwarts since September. That certainly doesn't sound safe to me. Especially when we know for a fact that the creature has killed a student in the past."

Dumbledore's eyes flicked to look at Gilderoy before staring at Witch. "I assure you that the students are safe, Madam Bones. There have been no student fatalities in the school in many decades, and certainly none this year."

She tilted her head slightly. "True, no student fatalities, but you have lost a distressing number of Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers over the last two decades. Not even the Ministry has had as many Wizards die in the building as has Hogwarts. Doesn't sound too safe to me. Besides, how can you call Hogwarts 'safe' after the four attempts last year and one this year to kill Mr. Potter? A safe environment does not include regular attempts to kill a student."

The Headmaster sighed in the manner one does when being put-upon by others for matters that really are trivial. "My I break my fast first?" He waved his hand at the table.

"Certainly, Headmaster. After all, we aren't here to arrest you; we'd just like you to enlighten us about certain events."

The other Professors, and several students, wandered in for breakfast over the next half hour, looking nonplussed at seeing the Aurors at the now slightly larger table.

Twenty-five minutes later, the four Wizards and one Witch headed out of the Great Hall towards the Headmaster's Office. They intended to use his floo to go to the Ministry. Dumbledore had wanted to do the interview here, at the school, but Madam Bones prevailed upon him, stating there were a number of people who would be in on the interview and it was easier to move one of him than several of them. Unstated was that there would be Unspeakables at the meeting, and they were notorious for not wanting to leave their headquarters.

Barely ten minutes later, several owls came winging into the Great Hall.

Gilderoy placed an entire platter of bangers in front of the owl delivering his copy of The Daily Prophet as he snatched the paper from owl's leg. The picture dominating the top of the page was almost perfect for Gilderoy. The three adventurers were standing in front of the serpent doors to the Chamber, with a giant question-mark floating to the side.

Proper preparation is the key to success, and he had made sure the three of them had faced away from the wall/doors back the way they had come, while he had pointed to the snakes over their heads. A perfect pose for a picture he knew the paper would use from the memories they provided. He made it look as if he were merely pointing out their progress so far.

"My word!" Professor McGonagall exclaimed while staring at her copy of the rag. Professor Sinistra was staring at him over her copy. Similar exclamations came from the rest of the staff. Harry and Hermione, after a quick look at the cover picture had both blushed bright red. The other students were soon oohing and ahing, as they shared reading the two copies they had received.

Moments later a squad of Aurors came in and confiscated the newsparchments, explaining to the protesting Professors and students, "Sorry, but these are part of an investigation into things here at Hogwarts. We need to question you all before you read The Daily Prophet to prevent it from accidentally affecting your interviews." They grumbled, but agreed to finish their breakfasts and begin the interviews. The Aurors would interview the students only in the presence of their Head of House, after they had interviewed Heads.

Gilderoy, of course, preened under the attention. He started nattering on about how dangerous it was and how he had ensured that his two students were always perfectly safe. When pressed for more details about what was in the Chamber and what had happened, he demurred and said he didn't want to taint their testimony. Instead, he told them more details would appear in tomorrow's edition. Likewise, he mentioned nothing about what had happened previously in the year; he didn't want to prejudice the statements the others would be making.

It was a bit of a tease. Tomorrow's edition was about how he had reasoned out what the creature was and how to get at it. And how the great Boy-Who-Lived had helped. Wednesday would be an in-depth story about the history of the Chamber and events this year, with a teaser showing part of the inside of the Chamber. Thursday would show-case his battle with the Basilisk in Chamber with Friday as a follow-up on the reaction of Wizarding England.