7 chapter 7

Harry/Gilderoy really hated the Quidditch game that Saturday, but he dared not deviate from the course of events. The hardest part, the absolute hardest part, was to pretend to botch the healing spell on Harry's arm. He had established a measure of respect with the Golden quartet, and the rest of the students, and this pretty much scuppered it completely. Madam Pomfrey would never forgive him.

Oh, well, he had the rest of the year to recover it in.

So it was that late that night in the Hospital Wing, seconds after the house-elf mentioned the Chamber of Secrets, Gilderoy acted. Wrapped in Harry's invisibility cloak — and hadn't that been a beastly bitch to get! — surrounded with a silencing spell, a powerful Notice-Me-Not spell, and a scent-suppressing spell, he had hidden under the boy's bed all night waiting. As soon as the words, ". . . now that the Chamber of Secrets is open once more . . . ," left Dobby's mouth, Gilderoy hit him with a stupefy, with his wand almost touching the elf's foot, and then bound him.

As the elf collapsed to the floor, Gilderoy stood up on the other side of the bed, shoving the cloak into his pocket and silently finiting the other spells on himself.

"Aha!" he cried aloud, "I knew something was wrong with that bludger! I knew there was a game afoot!" He adopted his 'Superman' stance, standing with hands on hips, his lavender cloak flung behind him, head held at just the right angle to impress onlookers.

Harry's head whipped around from staring at the bound elf on the floor to look at the Professor. He stared at Gilderoy, eyes wide in shock.

"Sorry, Harry," He looked at the boy sadly, "I really had no choice. If we wanted to find out who was trying to kill you I needed you isolated and apparently helpless. This way I could watch over and protect you, and catch your enemy before he did more harm. As I just did."

Harry continued to stare at him, "You . . . you vanished my bones on purpose?!" The outrage was clear in his voice.

"Oh, come, come, Harry. This hurt me far more than it did you!" Gilderoy rolled his eyes, smiling. "It's going to take me weeks, if not months, to repair the damage to my reputation! Even after we explain what really happened.

"You, on the other hand, will find your arm as good as new by morning and you'll have an exciting tale to tell your admiring fangirls, and, someday, your grandchildren." He gazed down on the boy wizard benevolently. Then he smiled sneakily and said, "You really need to improve your flirting skills. I think you should practice flirting with that pretty friend of yours, Miss. Granger. I know she shan't mind."

Harry stared at him, blinking, processing what he had heard. "What really happened? What really happened?" The boy was too shocked to speak coherently, at first. "What really happened," he said furiously, "is that you deliberately vanished the bones in my arm!"

"Harry," the professor said, "I know what you're thinking, but, please, trust me on this. We have thwarted a plot by Draco Malfoy to kill you!"

Harry stared at him, mouth gaping open, "Kill me? That prat?"

Gilderoy nodded, "Yes, yes, that's precisely what happened. You see, Dobby, here, is the Malfoy House-elf. And everyone knows that house-elves always do exactly as they are ordered. So, if he cursed that bludger, he had to do it because Mr. Draco Malfoy ordered him to do it.

"That bludger was trying to splatter your brains all over the Quidditch Pitch yesterday. If not for your quick reflexes, it would have succeeded, too. Fortunately for you, the Weasley twins managed to corral it after it demolished your elbow and prevented it from ploughing your head into the ground while you were lying there helpless."

Harry stared at him speechlessly, eyes-wide in shock.

Lockhart nodded in satisfaction, "Yes, that's exactly it. Draco Malfoy wanted you eliminated so he easily could catch the snitch and the Slytherins could win the game. He couldn't just wound you, that's too easy to fix and you'd be right back in the game. It had to be something serious, so serious you'd be off the field immediately. So, he had his house-elf curse the bludger in an attempt to eliminate you permanently. In other words, to kill you. This was nothing less than an attack on House Potter by House Malfoy!"

Harry finally closed his mouth and said, bewildered, "But that's not what he said, he said he was trying to protect me!"

"Harry, Harry, Harry," Gilderoy said condescendingly. "You don't understand. House-elves have to do exactly as they are ordered. And Draco Malfoy, his master, told poor Dobby, here, to kill you and then tell everyone he was trying to protect you, that it was all an accident! He can't tell the truth when his master has ordered him to tell a lie! And it is impossible for a house-elf to act independently." 'Unless they are insane,' he didn't add. "House-elves simply can't run off and do something unrelated to their normal house duties without direct orders. They just can't, they have to have orders from their owner!"

Lockhart shook his head, "It would have been the perfect murder, too. You die in a tragic accident by a rogue bludger and Draco wins his first game to the accolades of everyone in Slytherin. And then the Slytherins win both the Quidditch Cup and the House Cup at the end of the year. And, incidentally, Draco then inherits the Potter fortune in addition to the Black fortune."

And that effectively derailed Harry Potter from everything. "Potter fortune?" he said loudly.

The D.A.D.A. professor looked at Harry, frowning slightly, "Why yes, Harry, you are Heir to the Potter fortune. Hasn't your magical guardian told you about your heritage? The Potters are an Ancient and Noble House in England. When you become an adult, you will take the reins of one of the ten wealthiest Houses in England. And you and Draco are third-cousins by your great-grandmother, Dorea Black. If you die, then Draco inherits as the next closest relative. Unless you make out a will to the contrary, of course, which I suggest you do as soon as possible.

"Your vast riches are one reason Mr. Ronald Weasley is so jealous of you."

They heard, well, Gilderoy heard a commotion outside the Hospital Wing door. Harry was still too much in shock at hearing he was wealthy, and related to Draco, to notice anything farther away than his bed.

In the next moment, Dumbledore was backing into the dormitory, wearing a long woolly dressing gown and a nightcap. He was floating what looked like a statue. Professor McGonagall followed a second later. Harry and Gilderoy watched as the Headmaster deposited it onto a bed.

"I say," said Gilderoy, "What is all this, then?"

The Headmaster and Professor McGonagall turned quickly. They had been too involved with the statue to notice the other professor standing beside Harry Potter's bed.

"Get Madam Pomfrey," said Dumbledore, and Professor McGonagall hurried past the end of Harry's bed out of sight.

"Ah, Professor Lockhart. What a surprise to find you here." The old Wizard blinked, eyes twinkling, and then he sighed. "Another attack, I'm afraid," said Dumbledore, "I found him on the stairs."

Professor McGonagall swept back into view, closely followed by Madam Pomfrey, who was pulling a cardigan on over her nightdress.

Harry/Gilderoy sighed as well. He looked at Harry and saw his expression of horror as he realized it was Colin Creevey. Colin's eyes were wide and his hands were stuck up in front of him, holding his camera.

"Petrified?" whispered Madam Pomfrey.

"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "But I shudder to think . . . if Albus hadn't been on the way downstairs for hot chocolate — who knows what might have —"

That was fishy, Gilderoy thought. Why would the Headmaster walk to the kitchens through an icy-cold castle late at night for a hot chocolate when a simple request to a House-elf would have it in his hands in seconds? Did the Headmaster already know about the Basilisk and was tracking its movements through the castle? And therefore needed a reason to go rescue the latest victim? He knew that Dumbledore was a tricky old goat, but did he really have that little regard for the safety of the students?

A moment later, they all stared at the smoking ruin that was the insides of Colin's camera, with Dumbledore ominously saying, "The question is not who. The question is, how . . . ."

Now that WAS fishy, it implied that he already knew who . . . .

Into the silence the Headmaster's question produced, Gilderoy said, "Well, that's all very fine and good, but we have a more serious problem over here." The D.A.D.A. Professor pointed to the stunned and bound house-elf on the floor. The three clustered around the petrified young Wizard jumped, startled. They had forgotten the other Wizard, so wrapped up were they in Dumbledore's drama-queen moment.

Madam Pomfrey said, "A house-elf?" looking back and forth between Lockhart and the elf.

Gilderoy was in his element, a captive audience with questions only he could answer. And no one could contradict him.

"Not just any house-elf," he corrected the witch, posing dramatically, "but the very one who cursed a bludger to kill Harry Potter!"

The others looked at him astonished.

"You see, I knew something was wrong with that bludger. It followed only Mr. Potter, it tried to hit only Mr. Potter. Several times I saw Mr. Potter just barely elude a direct strike against his head at speeds guaranteed to kill, isn't that right, Mr. Potter? How many times did you hear the whistle of the wind as it narrowly missed your head, Mr. Potter? Three times? Four?"

"Four," whispered Harry.

"Aha! Four times the bludger barely missed killing our little Wizard, here." He looked down at the trussed up house-elf. "And I heard this little bugger confess to Mr. Potter that he was the one who did it! Isn't that right, Mr. Potter?"

Harry nodded again.

"Surely, you must be mistaken," the Headmaster interjected, eyes twinkling. "Why would a Hogwarts' house-elf do anything of the sort?"

"Ah, but you see, my dear Albus, this house-elf is not a Hogwarts house-elf!" Gilderoy declared gleefully, holding up a finger in triumph.

The Headmaster leaned closer and stared at the house-elf. "Ah, I see. None of the Hogwarts' house-elves would wear such a tatty attire."

The two witches were listening attentively.

"Furthermore, the house-elf admitted that he was the reason why Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter were unable to access Platform Nine-and-three-quarters at King's Cross Station. He also confessed to stealing the boy's owl mail last summer!"

The two witches gasped. The Headmaster frowned in thought. A house-elf stealing mail? Unheard of!

"And it did all this at the instructions of its owner," Gilderoy concluded. "A clear case of attempted premeditated murder disguised as an 'accident.' If Mr. Potter were just a tad slower in dodging, we would be making funeral arrangements. We need the Aurors here as soon as possible to handle the house-elf's interrogation."

"I don't think we need to involve the Aurors in this, Professor Lockhart, . . ." said the Headmaster, projecting a concerned grandfatherly image.

Gilderoy interrupted, "Oh, yes, we most definitely do need the Aurors here. I have many talents," he paused momentarily to preen, "and I'm sure I could interrogate the house-elf and learn all his secrets, but this is now a legal case, not a prank. We have an outside house-elf that has invaded Hogwarts and attempted a murder. This is not a mere schoolboy prank. We must call the Aurors!

"It must be handled delicately, though. I'm positive his owner ordered the house-elf to lie about why it did these things. That it will claim it did all these things without its master's permission or orders." He looked at the others incredulously, "Can you imagine any house-elf acting on its own, without orders of any kind? And doing something that its owner definitely would not want it to do? Imagine the uproar if it was proven that a house-elf had deliberately attacked or killed a Wizard of its own accord, and against its master's wishes!"

Professor McGonagall said softly, "A house-elf cannot do anything it thinks its master might not want it to do. In the absence of general or express orders, it can only do things it knows its master will approve of it doing — generally housekeeping chores."

The Headmaster again tried to downplay the situation. "I think we can handle this here at Hogwarts without needing the Aurors," he said, eyes twinkling.

"Headmaster," Gilderoy said grimly, "This is no longer just a school Quidditch prank. It is quite possibly an attack on a student by an adult from outside this school! If that is the case, what will you do? Dock him points? Make him write lines with a Blood-quill? Send him out on a detention in the Forbidden Forest?

"This was a murder attempt on the only surviving member of House Potter. It would easily have succeeded were it not for the lad's exceptional flying skills. And the next legal inheritor, or his family, orchestrated the attack! The perpetrator has a motive, he has the means, and at yesterday's game, he had the opportunity to do it. If you do nothing, he will try again! And next time he might succeed." He paused a second to let them think about that. "If you do not call the Aurors, I will." He declared posing again in his 'heroic' superman stance.

The Headmaster sighed, "Let us move to my office then," and he turned to leave the Hospital Wing.

"And that is why we need to call the Aurors, Headmaster!" Gilderoy declared loudly. "You would have us remove the house-elf from the scene of the crime and perhaps destroy important evidence? Or worse, leave the house-elf here with Mr. Potter unable to defend himself and hope the house-elf doesn't wake and finish his master's orders? I will remain here and protect the crime scene while you notify the Aurors. Perhaps you could use Madam Pomfrey's floo?" The Headmaster turned and looked at him, eyes not twinkling at all. The Headmaster was not happy with Lockhart ordering him around like a common Wizard.

Ten minutes later two Aurors walked out of Madam Pomfrey's office, with Pomfrey escorting them, into the brilliantly lit Hospital Wing. The only conscious patient was Harry, and everyone knew he wasn't getting anymore sleep tonight.

The lead Wizard, a tall, powerfully built black-skinned man, introduced himself as they approached the small group by the beds. "Hello. I'm Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt, and this is Auror Gowain Robards." He nodded to the Head Healer, "Madam Pomfrey tells me you have a case of attempted murder?" He raised an eyebrow inquiringly.

"Perhaps," stated Dumbledore, "I believe it isn't nearly as serious as that, but Professor Lockhart," he turned slightly, lifting his hand dismissively to indicate the Wizard, "seems to think that this house-elf," he pointed at the still stupefied and bound elf, "attempted to kill Mr. Potter," he pointed vaguely at Harry.

"Oh, no," said Lockhart, "I don't think that, I know that. After all, the house-elf confessed to trying to knock Mr. Potter off his broom while he was playing Quidditch yesterday, when the child was a hundred or more feet in the air. And the bludger he cursed was aiming at the boy's head! Even a glancing blow could have been fatal."

At first sceptical, the Aurors quickly realized the seriousness of the situation as Harry and Gilderoy filled them in on what happened during the Quidditch game. Professor McGonagall quickly corroborated their stories with her view from the Commentator's Booth, although she had only seen two of the near misses.

The D.A.D.A. Professor then offered his conclusions about the motives involved and that a substantial fortune was at stake. Then he gave his deductions about the house-elf's instructions from its owner, laying it on thickly that no house-elf could ever attempt anything as serious as murder without the orders of his master. As evidence that the owner had to have ordered the house-elf to lie about his motives, Lockhart told the Aurors about how the house-elf had closed the gateway to Platform Nine-and-three-quarters and stole Mr. Potter's owl mail.

"One of these actions could possibly be explained as the house-elf misunderstanding an order," Gilderoy explained, "but all three?" the Wizard shook his head. "Once is an accident, twice is a co-incidence, three times is malicious intent," he concluded.

"I notice you have avoided saying the name of the person you suspect is behind this house-elf's actions," said Shacklebolt.

Smiling broadly, as if he were introducing a celebrity to an audience, Gilderoy said, "Why, Draco Malfoy, of course."

The uproar was instantaneous. The Headmaster flatly refused to believe it, "Nonsense, that boy would never do something like that. Pranks maybe, attempted murder? Never!"

"Let's look at the facts, shall we?" Lockhart said reasonably. "This is the first game that Mr. Malfoy is the Slytherin Seeker. His father bought the team new top-of-the-line brooms just to get the boy on the team. If he didn't get the snitch, not only does he disappoint his father but also the Slytherin Team will be upset with him for losing them the game. And after all the bragging he did about how he's so much better than Mr. Potter, well, you can see he has a lot on the line here, can't you? And Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter have been at loggerheads since they first met last year on the Hogwarts Express. Ask any student.

"First, Mr. Malfoy ordered the house-elf to prevent Mr. Potter from returning to Hogwarts by stealing his mail and preventing him from getting his Hogwarts letter with the Year's requirements. When that failed, he ordered the house-elf to prevent Mr. Potter from coming to Hogwarts, physically, by blocking the Platform entrance. When that didn't work, Mr. Malfoy started to get desperate. He tried several times to get the Mr. Potter in trouble by provoking him into a fight, hoping to get him banned from the team, but that didn't work either. Finally, Mr. Malfoy ordered his house-elf to remove Mr. Potter from the game, and if it happened to be permanently, well so much the better."

Shacklebolt turned to Robards, "This is way above our paygrade, go get Madam Bones."

"She's not gonna appreciate a call at this time of the morning. . . ." said the other Auror.

"Well, unless you're volunteering to get in-between House Potter and House Malfoy . . . ?"

The other Auror sighed. "Not a chance," he muttered, and turned to Madam Pomfrey. "May I use your floo?"

She nodded and the two headed back to her office.

Shacklebolt stared at the D.A.D.A. Professor. "You realize this all hinges on this being the Malfoys' house-elf."

Gilderoy smiled confidently. "An easy solution. Bring the boy here and ask him if this is his house-elf. To confirm it have the boy order the house-elf to bring him something from his home with the family crest on it. Only a Malfoy house-elf could enter the Malfoy mansion and retrieve a belonging."

Shacklebolt harrumphed in reply. He stared at the bound house-elf impassively.

"I suppose," Lockhart said, frowning, "that the boy could be innocent, but in that case it means that Mr. Malfoy's father was the one giving orders to the house-elf. The problem there, of course, is why the father would involve himself with Mr. Potter. What possibly could the Wizard have against this boy? Unless it is to ensure that his son inherits both House Potter and House Black. Worse crimes have been committed to lock in an inheritance, don't you know. And those two Houses added to the Malfoy House would make him the richest and most powerful Wizard in the world.

"Ah, before I forget, I am willing to submit my memories of the game and everything I heard in the Hospital tonight, just to make sure there are no mistakes made in what I heard or saw. I'm sure Mr. Potter is also willing to provide his memories."

The dark-skinned Auror nodded his understanding.

At Harry's wide-eyed, "Providing memories?" Gilderoy gave him a brief explanation of pensieves and how they make it possible for people to view other's memories of events. And eliminate many he-said, she-said arguments because others could see and hear exactly what happened and who said what!

"Headmaster," Gilderoy said, smiling broadly, "because this involves a Slytherin, I think you should have Professor Snape observe the proceedings when Department of Magical Law Enforcement Head Madam Bones arrives, don't you?" He stared at the Wizard expectantly briefly.

"Professor Snape is the head of Slytherin House here at Hogwarts, and acts as parentis in locus for his students," Lockhart said to the Auror. "It is only proper that he be here considering it concerns not only one of his students, but also the son of a good friend of his." He paused, cradling his right elbow in his left hand as he tapped his finger on his chin. "I think he's the boy's godfather, actually." He straightened as if he had just thought of something. "In fact, being such a good friend of the family, he might be able to identify the house-elf for us!"

The Auror looked at the Headmaster inquiringly. The Headmaster said, eyes twinkling, "Yes, let's do that." He lifted his wand and a phoenix patronus burst from his wand. Moments later, it winged out of the room.

It took the Dungeon Bat almost fifteen minutes to wake, dress, and cross the entirety of the Castle to the Hospital Wing. He swept in the door, robes billowing dramatically, like a giant bat in the night. "Headmaster," he said, eyes sweeping the people in the room and pausing momentarily on the Auror. "What has Mr. Potter done this time? Are you finally going to expel the miscreant trouble-maker?"

The Auror looked incredulous at the unfounded accusation. He shook his head slightly and introduced himself, "I'm Auror Shacklebolt."

Snape stopped beside the Headmaster and stared at Harry and Gilderoy. Gilderoy smiled cheerily. "Ah, Professor Snape, ever the jokester!"

Everyone except the Auror stared at Gilderoy in disbelieving amazement. Professor Snape? Make jokes? Was the D.A.D.A. Professor mad?

With his audience suitably distracted from their bickering, the dandy moved to the end of Harry's bed and pointed. "Do you, perhaps, know this house-elf?"

Snape's eyes flickered down at the bound house-elf, and a frown appeared. "That is the Malfoy house-elf, Dobby." He had no reason to lie and he knew that to deny he recognized the house-elf would only cause problems when the truth came out later.

"Aha!" declared Gilderoy in self-satisfaction, "I told you he was Malfoys'!"

"You are positive?" asked the Auror.

"As positive as I can be about the identity of any house-elf I've seen. Only Mr. Malfoy could tell us beyond the shadow of a doubt." He shot an accusatory glance at Gilderoy and Harry. He knew that somehow those two were the cause of this late-night crisis.

While they waited for Madam Bones to arrive, the Headmaster filled Snape in on the night's events. Gilderoy filled Harry in on how to make out a will, with the promise that he would take him to Gringotts over the Christmas hols to file it. And suggested having Hermione help him in making it in the meantime — there were books about the subject in the library, after all.

"Whatever you do, Harry, do not make me a beneficiary," the blond dandy ordered earnestly. "I know how much you admire me, but I have sufficient funds to keep me happy.

"The purpose of a Will is to make sure that your estate — money and property — stays out of the hands of those you dislike while ensuring it does go to those who deserve it the most. And while you might not realize it yet, Miss Granger is your most loyal friend and ally. You would be better served to leave the Potter holdings to Miss Granger. With her intelligence, she would use what you give her for the betterment of all Wizards and Witches. Give only a small amount of a few thousand Galleons to each of the Weasley family — you know how they feel about charity.

"Think carefully about who has supported you both last year and this year."

"And you should definitely tell Miss Granger that she has your permission to use Hedwig to write to her parents. She is your friend and she has no way to communicate with her parents. It would make her ever so happy if you were to do that. And it would give Hedwig a sense of purpose instead of just hanging out in the owlery all the time being bored. Hmm? I'll add a spell to the owl so that any Muggle who sees him will only see a common bird like a pigeon or swallow, that way she shan't attract any attention in the Granger's neighbourhood." Harry nodded with a thoughtful expression on his face.

Finally, a tall, stern looking woman with a monocle exited Madam Pomfrey's office, followed by six other Aurors.

"Madam Bones," Gilderoy said as if greeting an old friend — Gilderoy had never met the woman! — "I am delighted to see the Department of Magical Law Enforcement is finally taking note Mr. Potter's trials and tribulations at Hogwarts." The woman looked at him, frowning. "This is the first time this year someone has tried to kill him." At that declaration, Madam Bones' frown grew even deeper.

"Why last year," the Wizard continued blithely, "there were no fewer than three times that the D.A.D.A. professor, Quirinus Quirrell, tried to kill him, and the last one put him in Hospital here for several days." He grinned at her broadly. "This year, of course, I, 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, am Hogwarts' beloved Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor. I do my utmost to keep all students safe, thus things are not nearly so desperate for the boy." He posed proudly. "I knew I would have to be on my toes this year when at the Opening Feast Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley were purposely delayed. I knew there was a game afoot. Crime is common. Logic is rare. Therefore it is upon the logic that I dwell."

He leaned closer to the Witch, as if confiding a secret to a friend, "I knew the game was afoot and that it was merely a matter of time before there would be another blatant attempt on Mr. Potter's life. When Halloween passed with merely a threat on his life and no action, I knew it would be at the first Quidditch game, just as it happened last year." She wasn't stupid, she caught his reference and he knew she would wonder why no one had advised her department of a serious attempt on the life of an Heir of an Ancient and Noble House.

He straightened and beamed at her happily. "I'm not one to meddle in an official investigation, but if I were you I would ask Mr. Potter for his memories of fighting the Troll, the first Quidditch game, the attack in the Forbidden Forest, and his fatal encounter with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named during finals week last June!" Madam Bones' monocle fell out as she stared at him. He nodded knowingly. "And you might want to ask him about some of his more violent confrontations with Mr. Malfoy from last year as well, to give you a bit of background on Mr. Malfoy's unashamed antagonism towards Mr. Potter and his close friends, Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger. There is even a dragon involved!"

Gilderoy knew the Headmaster was not going to be happy with the memories Harry provided to the Madam Bones about his adventures the previous year. They would show neither the Headmaster nor the school in a good light. And when they finally noticed the petrified student and got that story? The D.A.D.A. Professor knew the Headmaster was going to be in a world of hurt.

"And," he added conspiratorially, "Just you wait, there are things going on this year that make last year look placid!" He smiled, "My next book is going to eclipse all my previous books, I promise you!" The Head Auror looked worried.

Then he shook his head, sadly. "Mr. Malfoy, Draco, that is, is going to profess his ignorance of the house-elf's activities, naturally. And the house-elf can only say what his master has told him to say, so we shan't get the truth from him, either. His Master has ordered him to say that the house-elf only wanted to warn Mr. Potter away, not kill him. The only solution, you know, is to have an inquiry in front of the entire Wizengamot, and give the child a dose of veritaserum.

"But his father will never let that happen, and we both know it, don't we? What parent would in such a grave matter?" His normal smile was absent and he sincerely looked unhappy. "But based on the facts at hand, what can we do? If we do nothing, the child will be emboldened to try again, and next time I might not be close enough to Mr. Potter to foil the attempt." He sighed. "I hate to say it, but the only course I can see is for Mr. Draco Malfoy to either give a Wizard's Oath that he will not pursue his feud against Mr. Potter or have his father remove him from the school until both children are of age." He shook his head again, feigning sorry.

Over the next hour, different Aurors interviewed Harry and Gilderoy several times. Both stated, repeatedly, that they would be happy to provide memories of the events they witnessed.

Personally, Harry/Gilderoy was hoping that Draco would end up at Durmstrang, but his swindle earlier that week might have made that school a bit too expensive for the Malfoys — while the Ministry paid the tuition at Hogwarts, the Ministry would not fund a student to a school in another country.

He would settle for an Oath that Malfoy would cease his hostilities towards Harry and his friends and stay out of any House disputes. They would have to word the oath carefully so that the two boys could interact in school classes, and play Quidditch, and just limit the Oath to prevent the boy from plotting to harm Harry either in person or via a second party. He mentioned as much to Madam Bones.

But Gilderoy would leave the particulars to the D.M.L.E., the Headmaster, and Malfoy. If the Headmaster managed to convince everyone that an Oath wasn't required, then Harry/Gilderoy would have to up the ante and get Draco removed from the school in disgrace.

They summoned Mr. Malfoy from his dorm, and, as Gilderoy had predicted, he admitted the house-elf was Dobby, from Malfoy Manor. However, he was adamant that he did not order Dobby to harm Harry. In fact he insisted he had never given any orders to the house-elf regarding Harry or any other student at Hogwarts. Naturally, the Headmaster violated the boy's privacy by invading his mind, without coming out and actually saying he had, and declared the boy innocent.

Fortunately, Madam Bones refused to take the word of an old Wizard, no matter how venerable, in a case of what clearly was attempted murder and Line Theft. Especially when the Wizard couldn't provide any concrete evidence to back up his statement of innocence without disclosing that he had committed an Azkaban-worthy mind-crime.

Gilderoy almost — almost — felt sorry for the boy. For once, he truly was an innocent in the proceedings. When the Aurors finally left, almost nine in the morning, it was with the Slytherin boy, Professor Snape, and the Headmaster. Madam Bones had allowed Professor Snape to floo-call Mr. Malfoy to meet them at the ministry.

The D.A.D.A. professor watched Harry rush off to tell his friends the news about both Colin Creevey and Malfoy.

At dinner, the Headmaster still had not returned, so Gilderoy took it upon himself to tell the tale to the students, very dramatically, about Colin Creevey being petrified. And how he had spent the entire night with Mr. Potter, lying in wait to trap the culprit responsible for putting Harry in the Hospital Wing. That got Harry looks of pity from the boys and ones of envy from the girls. The students were astonished when he said that the culprit had returned that night to gloat, and that he, Gilderoy Lockhart, had caught him and turned him over to the Aurors. He did not mention either Draco or the house-elf by name.

The Slytherin's were not the only students to notice Draco Malfoy's absence at their noonday meal.

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