Ch 23 pt 2

We need a Wizard-studies class, mandatory for all Half-blood and Muggle-born students. Pure-bloods may attend if they want. I suggest you contact Andromeda Tonks about the position, she is a House Black daughter and was rigorously trained in the old ways by her parents. If she turns it down, then maybe Madam Dowager Longbottom would agree to share her expertise."

Professor McGonagall still seemed in shock over what had happened.

"Well," Harry said, finally, "I think that's it. I'll leave you two to it." With a negligent wave of his wand he released the silencing spell. And while the wily old Wizard could do wandless magic, he was limited in magic to what amounted to mere palour tricks until he dug out his old wand.

Blast it all! he thought as he stalked out into the corridor. Now he had two of the Deathly Hallows. He bloody well hoped that Harry the student didn't count as him having the Invisibility Cloak — he had only borrowed the cloak that one time, and then promptly returned it. He did NOT want to be the Master of Death again. Once was enough, thank you very much.

Bollocks! What a cock up. It was going to take some serious work to get this sorted. He had truly expected Dumbledore ask for his help when going after the ring. That the fool had thrown away his life and all his plans was still a great shock. Just thinking about the stupidity involved in Dumbledore's decision made his blood boil.

He stormed down the corridors to his office, students ducking for cover as they stared at him and the visible glow of magic swirling around him. They had never seen him angry and scowling before — and more than just a few were terrified at the thought of what could make the perennially cheerful and pleasant Professor THAT angry.

Next year was a pass, what with Sirius already being out of Azkaban, legally. The Tri-Wizard, though, was an issue. BOLLOCKS! He had forgotten about Barty Crouch, both of them.

(⊙_⊙)

"Good afternoon Madam Bones," Harry/Gilderoy said, his smile as dazzling as ever. His last class had ended at four, giving him sufficient time to visit his second favourite law enforcement official — Tonks, of course, was first. "I was hoping I would find you in."

The Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement met him halfway. "I'm always in for you, Lord Lockhart-Black," she said warmly. They shook hands before seating themselves on the couch and comfy chair at one end of the office. She waved her wand over the end table and a tea set appeared. "Tea?"

Gilderoy sat back, pleased, sipping at his steaming tea. This was what he had been trying for all his life, important people recognizing him as one of their own. No more getting the brush-off because he was a powerless unknown.

He knew she suspected he had more than just the two Lordships. His little stunt last Saturday wouldn't fool the more astute political experts. The Wizengamot had not seen Gaunt, Slytherin, or Gryffindor for decades, that all should appear with him as Lord Black implied more than just a casual connection between them. Especially when two of the three were professors from Hogwarts, as he was.

Speaking of which, the two Witches in question had been most appreciative of his appointing them as proxies. Sinistra had even hinted at being interested in making the arrangement permanent as Lady Slytherin — she was, after all, only a year or two younger than himself. With all of her classes being at night, she wouldn't have any conflicts with attending regular Wizengamot sessions she had informed him. Professor McGonagall had no interest in becoming Lady Gryffindor, but she happily would hold the proxy until he had found a full-time replacement — which was a good thing as Gilderoy knew he would never talk Harry the student into officially marrying the stern professor to bestow the title upon her! In the meantime, Harry Potter's secrets were safe.

But while Madam Bones might suspect he had those Lordships, that's all they were, suspicions.

Well, on to business. "Things have been happening at Hogwarts that you should know, Madam Bones," he started. She straightened in her chair. "But before I reveal those to you, may I set a few protective enchantments?"

"My office is regularly checked for listening spells, my Lord," she said, somewhat offended that he thought her lax in her security.

"I'm sure you have one of the Unspeakables do that chore, however, one has to wonder, who checks the Unspeakables? As I recall, one of them was a Death Eater in the last war."

She frowned, but made a gesture to go ahead.

He gave her a broad smile and stood. The spell he cast was complex and surrounded the two of them with a visible glow — only to the participants — until the caster dismissed it. An American Indian Wizard had taught it to him in the waning days of the war when operational security was an obsession.

"There, anything we say cannot be understood by anyone other than us. Simply removing listening spells, you know, doesn't prevent someone from inserting a physical probe into the room, nor sneaking in as a bug animagus." He pulled out a parchment from his robes and gave it to her. "The spell I just used and its parameters," he said by way of explanation. "Please keep it as a D.M.L.E. secret."

She took the parchment, nodding her agreement.

He sat again. "As you know, from the memories you've seen from Mr. Potter, Voldewhore is a wraith currently trying to invest himself into a living body. He has, as yet, not found another follower to possess, but he is trying."

"I'm sure your Unspeakables have given you clues on how he has managed to escape death — I will confirm it for you, he is using horcruxes, Soul Anchors, to stay on this plane even though he has died and is not a ghost or poltergeist. And that is horcruxes, plural, as in more than one."

"Merlin," she whispered, nodding. "We had suspected a horcrux, but several?" She shuddered. "The Unspeakables didn't think he had more than one. More than one would drive the Wizard insane, they said."

"He made five."

"Five?" she said weakly, blinking.

"Quite so. I believe he intended, eleven years ago, to use Harry Potter's death to create his sixth and last one. Should he return to life, I'm sure the first thing he will do is create that last horcrux.

"So far I have destroyed three: his diary from when he was a Hogwarts student, Slytherin's Locket, and Ravenclaw's Diadem. That's how I discovered he was using horcruxes, you see. When I first found Ravenclaw's Diadem the magic on it was so foul it was almost visible. I quickly determined what it was and destroyed the Soul that was stored in it while preserving the original enchantments. It really wasn't that difficult, I am Gilderoy Lockhart, after all." He grinned widely as she flinched slightly, expecting his long-winded self-aggrandizing list of titles to come flying forth. "When I found his diary, well, that confirmed he had made more than one. Then I found Slytherin's Locket, also infested. Now it was a matter of establishing how many he had made!

"Notice the proclivity for items of importance? I predict that Hufflepuff's Cup is also a horcrux." Gilderoy then explained his conversation with Dumbledore, in excruciating detail. "So, it was either five or seven soul splits."

"Unfortunately, and the reason I am revealing this to you now, is that Headmaster Dumbledore found and destroyed a fourth horcrux — and it wasn't Hufflepuff's Cup. That fourth Horcrux, plus the one I feel wandering around Hogwarts, which is probably Hufflepuff's Cup, totals five. When you add Voldewhore, that makes six, which means he was trying for the magic number seven.

"Anyway, stupidly, the barmy idiot Headmaster went after that fourth horcrux without me, Gilderoy Lockhart, as backup. After all, I've only found and safely destroyed three Soul Anchors without any injury whatsoever, so why should he have need of my expertise?" He added, sarcastically, "He is, naturally, the Great Albus Dumbledore, the Wizard who knows everything, never makes mistakes, and never over estimates his own intelligence and capabilities."

He shook his head ruefully, "He has contracted a fatal Withering Curse. He will be lucky to make it to Christmas, and will definitely be dead by this time next year. Which is why I am here."

"Dying?" Madam Bones said, shocked that such a powerful Wizard was laid low.

"Yes. Lords Slytherin and Gryffindor have appointed Professor McGonagall as Headmistress, effective after the end of this year's term. Albus will be showing her what she needs to know regarding that position over the summer. Fortunately, she was Depute and is well versed with most of the responsibilities.

"They will be making a joint announcement later this week that Albus is retiring to pursue other interests and that she is assuming his position as Headmistress. I wanted you to know the real reason and to be prepared for his eventual death."

She sat back in her chair, mulling over everything he had told her. He sat quietly drinking tea, and going for a refill while she thought. Finally, she looked up. "Thank you, my Lord. Both bits of news are disturbing."

He smiled contentedly. "Please keep the information regarding the horcruxes to yourself. I fear that the Unspeakables might want to recover the remaining one for study rather than destroy it to rid us forever of Lord Voldewhore."

He stood and rubbed his hands together. "This will make the biggest bestseller in history when I finally publish the full story of my quest to destroy the Dark Lord Riddle!" He sighed, "But that shan't be for a few years. Even after dealing with the horcruxes we will have to deal with the wraith itself. I fear that with the demise of Albus the populace will be disheartened should the Dark Idiot succeed in returning in two years."

She stood, slowly, as he headed for the door. He had his hand on the door when he suddenly turned. "Ah! I almost forgot!"

She looked up at him, dragged from her thoughts. She quirked an eyebrow.

"I was perusing the records at Azkaban when I was researching Sirius Black's incarceration. In doing so, I noticed that shortly before Barty Crouch, Junior, died, his mother and father visited him. His mother was dying and wanted to see her son one last time. Within a week, she died and Mr. Crouch buried his wife in a private ceremony.

"Barty Crouch, Junior, while not in great health, was at least as healthy as any other inmate, but he died within five days of their visit. How odd that mother and child should die so soon together, and just after their last meeting.

"My house-elf tells me that Winky, the Crouch family house-elf, is caring for an invalid that never leaves his room. Odd, isn't it, that a man with no living relatives has his house-elf caring for a sick relative in what used to be his son's room? Is it beyond the realm of possibility that the use of polyjuice allowed Mrs. Crouch to replace her son in Azkaban and that the 'private' burial was a sham?"

He smiled at her brilliantly. "Well, I'm not one to tell another how to run their department, but perhaps you should check and see if there is a body in Mrs. Crouch's grave. And if so, is it really Mrs. Crouch?"

He pulled out his wand and cancelled his privacy spell. "Good day to you, Madam," he said leaving the office with a jaunty stride. The Witch stared at him, completely flummoxed by his seemingly capricious parting comments that turned her world on its side. Again.

(◎_⊙)

The Wizarding World had taken Dumbledore's "retirement" quite calmly with many "thanks for a job well done" letters to the editor and editorials. There were also a few congratulatory letters and editorials addressed to Headmistress McGonagall. And the search was on for replacement Transfiguration and D.A.D.A. professors. In her interview in The Daily Prophet she mentioned her intention to introduce a few changes to the school — most, Harry/Gilderoy noticed, were his suggestions from that afternoon in the Headmaster's Office.

Before Harry/Gilderoy knew it, it was June, and he was running out of time to retrieve Hufflepuff's Cup. Wednesday evening, after supper, he headed to Grimmauld Place.

Bella was looking good. Two weeks of daily health potions had re-established her physically — once more she was a beautiful woman who commanded the attention of any males who might see her. That, of course, presented a problem. It wouldn't do for someone to "see" Bellatrix Lestrange after she had been declared dead in Azkaban!

Yesterday evening, he had introduced the Pureblood to something most Half- and Pure-blood Wizards and Witches had no idea existed — hair dyes. Bella was now a blond with shoulder-length wavy hair. Even her eyebrows were blonde — most women forget to do that, giving away that they aren't natural blondes. Contacts had changed her eyes to blue — a mild pain-relieving spell had quickly acclimated her to their presence. She could wear them for a week before she would have to remove them. No one seeing her would ever suspect she was a daughter of House Black. And a Wizard couldn't accidentally, or on purpose, terminate the Muggle disguise methods with a finite spell. Not even the Goblin's Thief's Falls would disclose the disguise.

Her practice with her new wand had paid off, she was as good with the new one as she had ever been with her old one.

"Okay, Bell," — after much discussion, and a few hexes both ways, they had decided that Bell was an acceptable derivative of Bellatrix. It wouldn't immediately trip people to the fact that her original name was Bellatrix and that she would instinctively respond to instead of ignoring the caller. If anyone asked specifically, her full name was Belladonna. — "I'm ready."

At that declaration they disapparated from the sitting room at Grimmauld Place — not that she recognized it after all his changes — and reappeared in front of an empty field. The floo connection to the Lestrange Manor would not admit anyone not already keyed into the protective enchantments. Of course, the Ministry also had disconnected the Lestrange floo from the network for non-use after years of idleness.

She held onto his arm, as if they were a couple, and walked towards what appeared to be a waist high stone wall. Like Platform Nine-and-three-quarters, they walked straight through it and a carriage-wide path appeared before them leading to a tall privacy wall interrupted by a closed gate. Bell walked up to the gate and placed her hand on the Lestrange crest centred on it. The gates swung open. A short five-minute walk later and they were standing on the porch. As she had instructed him, he did not let go of her arm. If he did, the protective enchantments and traps built into the grounds and porch would activate and immediately attack him as an intruder.

Moments later, they were inside. She turned to him. "All right, now what does it look like, you've avoided mentioning it so far." She stared at him suspiciously.

He smiled, showing off his brilliant and perfect smile. "Well, it's a golden cup with two handles." He held his hands up as if he were about to indicate its size, "It's about stupefy!"

With his hand only inches from her, she had no time to react and collapsed to the floor. A nearby portrait said, "How dare you!" His wand now in his hand, he swung it while casting a special version of the incendio spell targeted at portraits. He had learned that lesson in the War — leave no evidence. An instant later, every portrait in sight was nothing more than ashes drifting to the floor, the occupants having had no time to flee.

"Kreacher! Dobby!"

Twin POPs! answered his call.

"Take everything of value, including fixtures. Leave only the structure itself: walls, floors, ceilings, doors, windows, and so forth. Destroy all the portraits before you enter any room. Find every nook and cranny. Look for hidden rooms and compartments. Use your magic to look for dangerous spells so you don't get hurt. Put everything in the new vault I opened at Gringotts, you have the key. Shrink what you can and make as few trips as possible. Put Dark Artefacts and cursed items in the appropriate storage area in the vault. If you find any Goblin items, cursed or not, and bring them to me. And find me the Lestrange Vault key. If there is anything you think I should see, come get me."

Both house-elves stood silent for a moment, looking around, before Dobby sadly said, "Wes can't. We's has no permission from Lords or Ladies."

"Ah." He should have expected that. He turned to Bell and floated her to a nearby chair, "Ennervate. Confundo. Imperio. Give these two house-elves permission to do anything they need to do in the Lestrange House and Vault."

Seconds later the two house-elves blurred into action. "Obliviate! Stupify," he said to Bell.

It was a rather boring wait. Occasionally, Kreacher or Dobby would appear and hand a Goblin blade or piece of jewellery to Harry. He shrunk each item and placed it in his pockets. Kreacher was the one who found the vault key and brought it to Harry.

Finally, Dobby declared, "We's done."

"Excellent! Return home, take a break and make sure you eat. Rest if you need it."

Harry/Gilderoy floated Bell to the front door, opened it, and leant her against it. "Ennervate. Confundo," he said quietly. "Well," he continued in a conversational tone, "It took a while, but we found it." He held up a rather elegant looking golden cup.

She blinked at it blearily. It reminded her of the Cup given to her by her Dark Lord, but this cup was much larger and more ornate, with a series of small emeralds decorating the base. She looked back at him, her eyes narrowed. She had fulfilled her part of the bargain, now it was his turn.

Knowing what she was thinking, he took her arm and they walked back down to the gates. Friday night would be a full moon, so there was more than sufficient light tonight for them to see path even though it was almost midnight. She never looked back to notice the Entry Hall was bare before the door closed behind them. Neither did she notice the lack of curtains at the windows. As far as she knew, the Manor was as it had been when they arrived.

"Never fear, Bell. I will keep my part of the bargain. After a month has passed, I will not stop you from leaving my Manor. You know how to disguise yourself without magic, you have a new wand, and, when you leave, you will have a purse with a thousand galleons in it. You can return here to plan your next moves."

Their trip back to Grimmauld Place was as quick as their leaving. He had adjusted the protective enchantments to allow them to return directly to the sitting-room, so Bell never realized she was returning home to Twelve Grimmauld Place and not a non-descript flat somewhere in London.

Once they were back in her suite, which a mild confundo ensured that she thought was on the second floor and not under the kitchen, Harry bade the Witch good night. He then hit her with another imperio and handed her a potion bottle of the Draught of Sleeping Death with the orders to drink it. That removed her from being a possible problem in the short term.

"Kreacher!"

"Kreacher is here, Master Black."

"Take good care of our little Bell, here."

"Kreacher will take care of Pureblood daughter of House Black."

"Excellent!"

Harry headed back upstairs.

"Dobby!" he called from the kitchen.

"Dobby is here, Master Lockhart.

"Excellent! Can you still access the Lestrange Manor?"

Dobby Popped away and returned almost immediately. He was bouncing on his heels in happiness. "Yes, Master Lockhart, yes! Dobby's can still go to wicked Wizard's Manor!"

"Excellent!" He looked down on the diminutive house-elf. "Dobby," he said gravely, "the Lestrange brothers are as evil and cruel to house-elves as your previous master. They would kill Harry Potter without pause if they could."

Dobby's face grew dark in anger and he opened and closed his hands repeatedly.