ch 29 pt 2

He stared at the parchment. He really should take it with him because Sirius might come in and see it. Remus wouldn't share the information if he saw it, but Sirius? In a second. But Sirius was in the game-room upstairs, and he just needed a few minutes to make a floo-call to Headmistress McGonagall. He wouldn't take too long as supper should be soon.

He left it flat on the table as he went into the Sitting Room to make his floo-call.

"Headmistress McGonagall," he called. They had returned home after the task, leaving Harry and Hermione to attend the raucous party the twins were sure to throw. It was after supper at Hogwarts and he expected her to be at her desk with paperwork, especially after the day's events. She was.

"Could you get me a copy of my class schedules? Or is it the same as when I taught?"

It took her only a few minutes to provide him an updated schedule. It was mostly the same as his first year as a Professor, with only a few minor changes to accommodate the foreign students. The Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students had classrooms in the West Wing for the Professors who had come with them to teach their schools' specific subjects that were not taught at Hogwarts, but he did have an extra few classes just for them.

"The French Minister has told me," she said, "that we can expect to see the foreign Aurors arriving tomorrow." She shook her head sadly. "To think this is necessary."

"My dear," Garry/Gilderoy said, "Never fear, I, Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, six-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award, Hogwarts' beloved Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, Slayer of Basilisks, and detector of Dark Wizards am here! Nothing shall escape me! The Aurors are merely to assure outsiders that all is well. I will be the real protection for the students!"

He could see her restraining herself from rolling her eyes. He twinkled his eyes at her — he was so glad he had finally found that spell — "We know that if anything happens I shall easily forestall any harm to any students, as I always have!" He smiled brilliantly. "Just read my books for the details and proof."

She looked down at her desk and cleared her throat, "Yes, well, hopefully that shan't be necessary."

"In any case, I have another request."

She looked at him questioningly.

"Do you mind if I install a swimming pool in the dungeons?"

"A . . . swimming . . . pool?" She looked at him in consternation.

"Yes. It occurs to me that not all Dark creatures and monsters are above water and while I am an accomplished adventurer, it is rather difficult to get across to the children just how different a matter it is when one is below the surface. Never mind the immediate problem of breathing, but how does one accomplish spells? The reducto is a mere annoyance under water unless one puts a ridiculous amount of power into it — the water rapidly degrades the spell's performance. And without appropriate precautions beforehand spells underwater can be as deadly to oneself as to one's opponent! For example, a powerful bombardo is a quick route to suicide!

"It would be a good experience for the children in D.A.D.A. to see how water affects their spells. Not to mention being able to encounter the underwater creatures in their native environment. It is one thing to see a grindylow in a fish tank and quite another to have a horde of them chasing you!

"Plus, it would be an excellent opportunity for them to meet the merpeople on an equal footing, as it were. Being in the dungeons, it shouldn't be that difficult to arrange a tunnel to the lake to facilitate such meetings."

She blinked a few times, thinking. "A wonderful idea, Gil, but we haven't a budget to install such a thing. And it would take months, if not years, to push through the funding from the Ministry."

He waved his wand dismissively, "Not an issue. I'll simply call in a few favours from my fans and it'll all be taken care of."

"Okay," she said hesitantly. "If you think you can do it, by all means go right ahead."

"Excellent! This will be so much more exciting than my trip to Albania last Spring . . . ." He spent another five minutes telling her about how boring that adventure had been. Why most of the villagers there had never even heard of Gilderoy Lockhart, nor his fabulous adventures as chronicled in his books. And how he had to work hard to maintain his perfect appearance at all times. He left out his violent encounter with Voldewhore and Yaxley. She didn't ask about his subsequent stay in St. Mungos so perhaps she didn't know of it.

He felt someone tap his shoulder. "Oops, I'm wanted at this end, so I'll see you tomorrow at breakfast, then. Goodbye!" he called out cheerily. He pretended not to notice her relieved expression as he said that. He had far too much political and financial pull for her to risk offending him. Not that Garry really cared. She could be as rude as she wanted and he wouldn't bat an eyelash, but she didn't know that.

He pulled back from the floo and sat a moment, getting his balance back. It was Dobby at his side. "Supper is served."

"Thank you, Dobby!" he said, standing and straightening his robes. He sedately returned to the dining room. Already sitting around the table were the Tonks, Bell, Remus, and Sirius. Folded on his place setting was his parchment of notes. Sirius had the most innocent expression. If you didn't know him, you wouldn't suspect he had been reading something he knew he shouldn't. Garry was relieved to see, from the glare that Remus was giving Sirius, that Remus had managed to keep the parchment safe from prying eyes. He nodded to himself in approval. No one could claim, now that he was a Professor again, that he had deliberately helped Harry.

(◎_⊙)

That night, as Garry was finishing putting his hair curlers in place for the night — he had to look his best for the first day of his new classes — he realized it was awful quiet in the back of his mind. Normally — well, ever since the incident in Flourish and Blotts — there had been the constant murmuring of Harry's thoughts and the swell and ebb of his emotions. He assumed that when Harry was in charge, then he felt the same effects from Gilderoy. But right now, there was dead silence. It was rather unnerving, actually. He hadn't noticed earlier because the pain on awakening and then the hectic activity during the day. But now, as he was relaxing in the rather mindless actions of preparing for bed, he could pay attention to what was in his own head — and it seemed to be rather empty.

Where had Gilderoy disappeared to? It was just soo, quiet. . . .

Everything up to the last six months was distinct in his memory. He could clearly demarcate when he was in control and when Gilderoy was. Gilderoy, it had seemed, was more than willing to let Harry do most of the work, and only insisted on being in control when the subject of his books came up. He had been quite happy to let Harry deal with the physical issues of spell-casting and battle tactics. And Harry was more than willing to let Gilderoy do his writing and rewriting. And rewriting. And then rewriting it again. It was a LOT of work writing a book, Harry had discovered. And something he hadn't considered ever doing himself. Watching Gilderoy agonize over whether that last sentence delivered what he wanted the reader to experience was, well, mind-boggling to Harry. He spent that time in planning and meditating and tried not to think about the book.

On the other hand, watching Harry zip through difficult-to-cast spells almost without thinking was beyond amazing to Gilderoy. Watching as he cast powerful spell after powerful spell without any signs of fatigue was simply astonishing to the previously mediocre Wizard. Spells that would have left Gilderoy staggering and barely able to stay awake after casting them, Harry shot off without any noticeable after-effect. And did them repeatedly.

And yet where was he? Where was Harry?

No, where was Gilderoy?

Wait, who was in control here?

Garry stared at his reflection. And his reflection stared back. Was he looking at Harry? Or Gilderoy?

What had the spell been meant to do to him back last Spring? And what had it done? He couldn't detect Harry in his mind anymore, yet he could remember everything Harry had experienced and done, as well as everything he had felt emotionally. And the same was true for Gilderoy. But there was no longer a wall between them, there was no sense that if he simply relaxed and mentally said the equivalent of "Here!" that Gilderoy would take over and he could concentrate on thinking and planning while Gilderoy did what Harry thought of as drudgework. His memories no longer consisted of Harry looking at Gilderoy's childhood with envy nor Gilderoy looking in horror at Harry's experiences. Instead, they were all his point-of view, they had all happened to him, and not to Gilderoy or Harry.

And his mental point-of-view kept flipping, making things even more confusing. One moment he was positive he was Gilderoy and the next that he was Harry. Perhaps he was both? Had Voldemort's spell, obviously meant to destroy Harry mentally, instead instigated their complete integration?

Garry decided he would go into an occlumency trance and examine the insides of his skull for a while, and if that didn't provide any substantial clues — go to bed.

(⊙_◎)

"Good Morning, Class!" Lockhart called out cheerily as the Fourth Year Gryffindors and Slytherins finished seating themselves. It was his first class of the day. He stood at the front of the class with his robes artfully held back by his hands on his hips, teeth gleaming brightly in a broad smile, nodding acknowledgements to the female students as they filed in and noticed their idol waiting for them. Today was a plum day, he had decided, and he looked stunning, even if he said so himself. He had redecorated the room, rather tastefully, he thought, using his store of Lockhart portraits. There were only about two dozen on the walls. All of them happily waving and giving the students the thumbs-up sign. Hmm, there was that blank spot over there — how had he missed it? — he would have to add a few more portraits from his trunk.

Harry and his friends regarded him somewhat warily.

"As you probably know," — it had been announced at breakfast — "your former D.A.D.A. professor was a Death Eater pretending to be Alastor Moody, and has been removed, by moi, of course," he said not so modestly.

"I am, of course, Gilderoy Lockhart," he held up the cover of the soon-to-be-released Restraining a Rat with his smiling, happy face, on it, "Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, six-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award, Slayer of Basilisks, detector of Dark Wizards, and, as you all remember, Hogwarts' most beloved Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor. And, in view of your former Professor now being in Ministry custody, the Headmistress has wisely chosen me to finish out your education this year!" He grinned broadly at the class, making sure his gleaming teeth were on display.

There were sighs of dismay from many of the boys, and sighs of contentment from all the girls.

He dropped the book back on his desk with a loud bang, the Gilderoy on the cover winching in response. He rubbed his hands together gleefully as he went "Muwa ha ha ha haaa!" in his best Muggle mad scientist impression — he had spent over an hour last night practicing it, he hoped the little buggers appreciated it! "You're MINE, now!"

Harry and company definitely were alarmed, now. Well, except for Hermione, she looked as if she were about to have an orgasm.

"I looked over your course materials and you seem to be right where you are supposed to be. Unfortunately." He broadened his smile as many of the students started to look alarmed. They remembered his packed course material from Second Year when he had worked them relentlessly. They had had excellent grades as a result, but still, it had been quite tiring.

"Put your books and bags away, we're going to see just how good your practicals are!" He spun around with a flourish and wandlessly moved his desk and chair to the wall. Spinning back to face the class, he shot a quick stunner at Harry. As he had expected, the boy already had his wand up and a shield appeared to reflect the spell to the ceiling. "CONSTANT VIGILANCE," Lockhart cried happily. "Five points to Mr. Potter for being prepared!"

For the class it seemed as if the next two hours passed in minutes as he put them through their paces. "Terrible!" he exclaimed just before class let out. "You're right where you should be!" They stared back, appalled. "Have no fear, though! I, Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, six-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award, Slayer of Basilisks, detector of Dark Wizards, and your beloved Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor will have you ready for your OWLs by then end of the year." The class goggled at him, stunned.

"But, but, OWLs are next year," cried one horrified soul, Ron, he thought.

Lockhart laughed. "And what's wrong with being ahead? Everyone will underestimate you, giving you a definite advantage in any sort of confrontation. Plus, this will give you more time to concentrate on your other subjects next year and your D.A.D.A time will be merely revising! That and getting a head start on your N.E.W.T.s so your final years won't be as exhausting." Several of the students with siblings having gone through N.E.W.T.s nodded their agreement. Three years to learn what they needed for the DADA N.E.W.T.s would be much better than the cramming that took place trying to do it in two.

Hermione was nodding eagerly while the rest of the class divided into two groups: one of resigned acceptance and the other of horror at the work involved.

"By the way," he added, "I am installing an Olympic-sized pool in the dungeon's west wing so that we may get up close and personal with the denizens of the watery realm!" There was a stunned silence. "And to teach those who don't know how, how to swim. The pool will be open for recreational use by students all school year from six in the morning until curfew, except when in use by D.A.D.A and Care of Magical Creatures classes, which times will be posted in your Common Rooms and in the pool room." He didn't mention the alarm on the room that went to the DADA Professor's room in the event anyone tried to enter it after curfew. The house-elves also monitored the room at all times so there wouldn't be any drowning tragedies. A spell of his own devising prevented anyone from entering the pool if there were no professors or house-elves to provide over-sight.

The class broke up into furious whispering as those students familiar with public pools explained to the others what was going on.

"Class dismissed! Mr. Potter, a brief moment of your time, please."

Hermione, Neville, Susan, Hannah, and Ron waited just outside the door as Harry approached Lockhart's desk. Ron was more to the edge of the group instead of being right up with Hermione. Perhaps he was finally getting a handle on his jealousy.

"Harry, my boy, I haven't had a chance to get together with you and it looks as if things are rather busy for you and me right now. So, I wanted to tell you," he said quietly, "I haven't been myself since returning from Albania, but yesterday I . . . I guess you could say I . . . woke up." He sighed. "If I had been truly awake, I would have been able to prevent this whole fiasco with the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and I apologize for not doing that." He shook his head sadly, looking down at the floor for a moment, inwardly cursing himself for his over confidence in dealing with Voldewhore in Albania.

He should have expected there to be a dedicated follower nearby. He should have planned for the Death Eater to have competent backup. The Future Harry Potter for sure would have expected a trap before setting out and made accommodations accordingly. His successes of the previous two years had given him a false sense of security and assuredness — a feeling that he could make no mistakes. Well, he had paid for that mistake, and so had Harry, to a lesser degree, by ending up in the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

Harry smiled at him, warmly. "It's okay, you've more than made up for anything wrong you might have done with getting my godfather free and taking in Bella. Sometimes you might be a right prat, but I know you mean well."

The older Wizard raised his eyebrows in surprise. Apparently, important things had happened between them over the last half a year. "Thank you, Harry," Garry said gratefully. He frowned. "I'm sorry to say that I don't remember much of the last six months, so if I say or do something unusual, please forgive me."

It was Harry's turn to frown.

"Nothing to worry about, my boy." Lockhart said. "Now, you need to contact Sirius about the next task. He has information for you. Not being a Professor or otherwise involved in the Tournament, he can provide you with assistance." Harry nodded; Sirius' help with the first task had been indispensable.

He smiled at the shorter Wizard. "Now, run along."

Harry left quickly, and Lockhart was pleased see that he grabbed Hermione's hand as they set off down the corridor while Luna, who had arrived in the meantime, took his other hand. Astonishingly, Draco — Draco! — was also outside in the corridor and walked beside Ron as the group headed for their dinner before afternoon classes. Gone was his typical sneer and he and Ron appeared to be quite amicable. Had Garry hit the nail on the head two years ago? He shook his head ruefully.

The rest of the week passed quickly as Garry quickly assessed the different classes. They were all where he expected. He previously brought them all to the point where they exceeded the school's requirements the last time he was here, and Remus hadn't let them fall behind last year. The exceptions, of course were the First and Second Years students who hadn't been in attendance back then. It would take only a little work to bring them up to snuff, and then move them ahead.

The underwater portions he had planned would add a small bit to the course material, but not anything that would drastically affect the schedule. He foresaw the pool becoming a rich recreational resource during the cold winter months, which would decrease some of the tension of a thousand students trapped inside a snowbound edifice. Not to mention getting Harry the help he needed with the Second Task while hiding it as course material for the entire school. And the pranking opportunities were limitless!

First, there were the reactions the conservative Wizards would have to their first sight of the bikinis that Garry was sure the Muggle-born Witches would rapidly introduce to the pool. Those would provide much amusement. The Pure-bloods only thought the current Wizarding World one-piece swimsuits were revealing! And he could hardly wait to see the Witches' response to a Wizard in a speedo! And then there were the spells he had built into the pool-room that occasionally would turn the Seventh year classes' suits transparent while underwater or wet. Not too much, nor for too long. Just enough to rile both genders.

Oh, this year was going to be soo much fun!

(◎_◎)

"Mademoiselle Delacour, if you would come down here please," Lockhart called out after his introduction to the Seventh Year D.A.D.A. Class. This class was a mix of Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, and Hogwarts students. The foreign students were all giving him looks of disbelief and disdain, obviously considering him little more than a dandy — especially after seeing the room's decorations. He so loved it when people underestimated him, it made it so much more satisfying when he trounced them later on.