Lockhart

Once I started thinking about memory charms, I couldn't help but think of the infamous Professor Gilderoy Lockhart from the second book. He was famous around the world, from his many adventures. But, Harry and his friends discovered that he was a fraud.

While Lockhart was pretty much a failure of a wizard, he did excel in one area, memories charms. In that, he was almost an artist. Lockhart would find unsuspecting wizards who had accomplished great things and modify or erase their memories to where he was the one who had performed the deeds. The sheer number of times he got away with it highlighted his skill.

The books on memory I got from the Room of Requirement explained that there are several different types of memory spells. Some can seal memories away, and others can be used to craft them into something else entirely. The book also warned that memory charms didn't require power, but rather finesse. I wasn't as interested in learning how to seal memories away as much as learning to craft new ones.

I frowned when I read how most memory charms are illegal for any non-sanctioned ministry wizard. How in Merlin's Shitspackled Beard was I supposed to practice memory spells when they are illicit spells? There are exceptions, one can get from the Ministry, but they involve hours of paperwork and getting around a lot of red tape. But I doubt underage wizards can apply for one.

Somehow I was supposed to learn how to create a fake memory, which is an extremely delicate process. Not only that, but I also couldn't practice memory charms on other people, and I was expected to somehow learn with myself as a test subject.

The more I thought about it, the less I liked my chances. It was almost March, and I only have until the second of May to finish the trial. The only good news it seems is speaking about memory charms appears to be a loophole in the binding contract I signed. It appears that Occlumency and Memory Charms are different enough to where I can seek help.

The problem is there isn't a good way to ask for help. No Professor in their right mind is going to teach a second-year any of the memory charms. While I'm confident I can theoretically cast the spells on my own, without practice, I was wary of trying it out on myself.

Then I had an idea. If I couldn't get someone respectable to help, then I just need to go in the opposite direction. After all, I knew the identity of one of the most talented memory artists in the world. I just needed to be careful about how I approached him. No way I could risk approaching him as a student, too many things could go wrong.

Pulling out a quill and a piece of parchment, I scribbled out a letter.

Mr. Lockhart.

Should you not wish for your deep darkest secret to be revealed to the world. I suggest you meet me at the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade this Saturday at six in the evening. Send a reply with the owl. I understand that you may not believe meeting me worth your time, and I imagine that you require some evidence that I know your secret. So, I shall end with a simple incantation. Obliviate.

Sealing the letter, I headed toward the Owlery in the west tower. Once I got to the tower, I selected one of the school's owls at random. After securing the letter, the barn owl took off into the sky. I wasn't worried about Lockhart tracing where the owl was from. Outside of his talent of the mind, he was pretty incompetent.

Now all I could do was wait and see if he showed. I had a few preparations to make. Since I obviously couldn't meet him with my natural appearance, I had a few things I needed to gather. First was the hider bracer my uncle gave me. It produced a generic illusion. As long as I wasn't touched, no one would find out. Next, I needed to find and brew a simple potion that would change my voice.

Once again, I got everything I needed from the Room of Requirement. This place was such a cheat. Once I brewed the potion, there was nothing more to do than wait till Saturday.

I got a reply the next day, after opening the letter and reading the response, I wasn't sure if Professor Lockhart was sane or not. I knew from the books that he could be oblivious, but this was a whole new level of crazy.

To my mysterious fan

It is always a delight to meet with those who earnestly follow my career. I am always happy to meet with fans and discuss my many adventures. I recommend that you buy my latest book and bring it with you. I would be glad to sign it, letting you take a piece of me with you. I also have pre-signed photos for your pleasure at the low, low price of ten galleons each. Isn't that a great deal?

I stopped reading when I noticed that he continued to write about how awesome and great he was. He couldn't really be that thick, could he? I had sent him a letter that was essentially blackmail, and he thought I was a fan. How deluded could he actually be?

It was possible he was playing dumb and planning on ambushing me. From what I remember from the books, Lockhart was an interesting mix of clever and stupid. Part of me thought to ask my best friends to back me up. I knew that they would without hesitation. But, I didn't feel comfortable involving them in my blackmail scheme, if this went bad, I didn't want it blowing back on them. Besides, I should be fine. After all, it's Lockhart, how dangerous could he actually be?

As soon as the thought crossed my mind, I reached out and snapped a rubber band that I had put on my wrist. Bad Alex, this is how you ended up trapped underground with a monster. This isn't going to be like when I ran off half-cocked before. I need to look into some precautions.

Knowing that Lockhart's area of strength laid within memories charms, I decided that it would be worthwhile learning their weakness before I met with him. After devouring several books on the subject I couldn't help but smirk, I couldn't wait to see the dumbfounded look on Lockhart's face if he tried something.

I also learned where I needed to begin. I wasn't too interested in the Forgetfulness Charm. While learning to seal memories away was interesting, it wasn't what I was after. I wanted to learn how to edit and change someone's memories. I thought that it was an excellent place to start. Modifying memories seemed like it was an only short step away from crafting new ones from scratch.

The rest of the week flew by, after dinner on Saturday, I headed towards the fourth floor. The secret passageway behind the mirror leads to the Silver Spears dueling chamber, but also leads to the town of Hogsmeade.

The exit of the tunnel was in a back alley behind Three Broomsticks Inn. I pulled out the hider bracer my uncle gave me and slipped it on my arm. It changed my appearance and size with the illusion of an adult with plain features. It was a decent way to hide your identity. The main problem was that the appearance was fixed and couldn't be changed, as well as not being real. If someone waves their hand where my head is, they will discover that nothing is there because I am shorter than my illusion. To complete my disguise, I grabbed the green voice-changing potion I brewed and downed it in a single gulp.

Once I was suitably disguised, I exited the tunnel. I made a mental note to look into the Disillusionment Charm. Being able to move around and not cause a scene sounds like something I should look into. If I remember correctly from the books, Dumbledore was powerful enough that his Disillusionment Charm allowed him to achieve true invisibility.

Having never been in Hogsmeade before, I wasn't quite sure where the Hog's Head was located. Remembering that it was a run-down bar, I just walked until I started to come across seedier looking buildings. I knew I found the place when I came across a pub that had a wooden sign with a wild boar's severed head leaking blood onto the white cloth around it.

Heading inside, the first thing I noticed was how dirty the bar was. It had to be a statement of some kind because there are plenty of charms that can clean a place up. I headed over to the barman, who was a tall, thin, grumpy old-looking wizard with a long, wispy beard.

My deep enchanted voice softly rang out, "I'm looking for a place where I can have a conversation in private."

The barman motioned with his hand at the mostly empty bar, and scoffed, "There is plenty of privacy to be found around here."

I struggled not to roll my eyes. No way was I going to have this conversation in the public view. I knew place's like this thrived on information that could be gleaned from others. I'll bet one or two of the fellows drinking in here tonight are here for any sort of gossip they can pick up. Information was always a valuable asset that could be sold for some coin.

Having been with my uncle on some of his deliveries, I knew places like this always had a room where sensitive information could be discussed. I reached into my robe and set a few golden galleons on the bar, "I was thinking of a place with a little more privacy."

The barman snatched up the galleons so fast that I almost missed his movements. Once he was satisfied that they were real, he reached beneath his bar and did something. On the back wall of the bar, a door swung open. "It's yours for two hours," He stated.

Knowing that I had only given enough for the room and nothing else, I slapped several more galleons on the table. "To make sure we are not disturbed by anything," I explained.

This time, I held my hand over the galleons until the barman slowly nodded that he understood my meaning. After I released the coins, he snatched them up as well.

Heading to the secure room, I said, "I'm meeting someone here shortly, could you send them to the back room?"

The old barman cocked his head and questioned, "How am I supposed to know who you're meeting?"

Not stopping, I scoffed, "Trust me, you can't miss him. Just send the most pompous looking jackass that comes in your bar to the back."

Inside the secure room, there was a small round table. I took the far seat, so my back would be against the wall, and I could see Lockhart coming. Not taking any chances, I pulled my wand out and hid it beneath the table. I noticed that there was a clock on the wall and there were less than ten minutes till six. Now, all I had to do was wait and see if he shows.

With this being my first attempt at blackmail, I was a little nervous. As I watched the clock, time seemed to move slowly. When it finally showed it was six, my eyes drifted towards the door where I expected him to come through at any moment.

Twenty minutes later, and I was fuming. Was this idiot not going to show? I decided to wait it out. Maybe he was running a little late. Thirty minutes later, and it was almost seven in the evening, and the bastard still hadn't shown. Perhaps he thought I was bluffing. In a way I was, I didn't have any evidence, and Lockhart was a highly respected member of the community. It's not like I could say that I knew what he did because I came from a world where I read a book detailing his crimes. There is a special place at St. Mungos that they would lock me in and throw away the key.

Just when I was about to give up, the door opened, and an annoyingly handsome blonde-haired idiot walked in with an award-winning smile. No wonder he was so popular with women. All he has to do was flash them a smile, and they were hooked. His smile was so charming that it was almost at the point where I suspected magic was involved.

Plenty of witches and wizards had small little changes made to their appearance from their unconscious desires. Harry had hair that stuck straight up, and even if it was shaved off, it would grow back within a day. Even Anna's purple eyes weren't natural. When she was four, she had been getting bullied by some of her cousins about the possibilities of being a squib when her brown eyes turned purple in a defiant expression of magic.

Ignoring Lockhart's white smile, I snapped, "You're an hour late."

Lockhart wagged a finger at me, "Don't you know that it's fashionable to be late to a gathering. I make it a point to never show on time."

I forced myself to take a deep breath and not curse him. Anna had taught me her bowel-clearing hex, and I was half-tempted to use it. But, I squashed the urge. I was here because I needed his help, and further antagonizing Lockhart didn't seem like an effective way to secure his help. I was already blackmailing him, cursing him would probably be a step too far.

Controlling my anger, I countered, "But, this isn't a party. This is a meeting."

I caught the briefest hint of a frown before it vanished. It looks like Lockhart doesn't like to be rebuked. Once again, he turned on the charm, "Well, I'm here now, and I must say, it's always nice to meet a fan."

Lockhart looked around at the dusty, dank room and continued, "Although, I do wish we could have met over at the three broomsticks. It's a far nicer establishment, and Madam Rosmerta always has a table for me if I swing by."

Seeing how I didn't design to respond to his suggestion, he shrugged. "Well, it matters not. I have plenty of experience in places like this. Let me tell you a story. Once, I was in Eastern Europe, hunting down a vicious vampire. You wouldn't believe the places I had to tramp through to track him down. Of course, I got him in the end. If you want, you can read all about it in my book titled A Bloody End."

As I watched Lockhart ramble on, I was more convinced than ever that he was an idiot of epic proportions. I had been willing to give him a little bit of leeway, just because I didn't want to be blinded by the book's narrow point of view. But, I had literally told him I knew his stories were full of dragon dung, and here was going on about one of his adventures. I have no doubt that the story is true, but it wasn't his story.

"Enough," I snapped. "As I already told before you in the letter, I know your books are full of nonsense. All those wonderful stories that brought you such fame belong to other people. Your skill with memory charms allowed you to steal the brave deeds of many witches and wizards."

The grin on Lockhart's face fell away, revealing a blank look. I could see the wheels turning in his head through his blue eyes. After mulling it over, Lockhart went on the offensive, "That's not what the world believes. Everyone knows the adventures of Gilderoy Lockhart. I'm a member of the Dark Force Defence League, I've received numerous awards for my deeds, including an Order of Merlin. Who do you think the public will believe, me, or some nameless wizard?"

This time it was my turn to wag my finger, "True. If it was just me, I'm sure the world would stay on your side. But, deep down, you know the weakness of the Forgetfulness Charm. A powerful or skilled enough wizard can break through your spells and bring those memories back to the surface. Even though I'm sure you tried to cover your tracks. It only takes one person to start putting cracks in your legend. Are you sure you covered all your tracks deep enough."

I smirked when I saw the first hint of worry in Lockhart's eye, so I pressed on what I assumed he feared most. "Imagine no more fame. No more fans wanting your autograph. Just a small cell, where the dementors will rip apart who you are, one piece at a time. You'll die in disgrace, completely forgotten and alone."

Lockhart's eyes darted around the room nervously. I could tell he had come to a decision. I inwardly smirked when I saw his hand slowly move to his pocket. I knew he needed to be out of options before I could trust him to help me. Right now, I'm guessing that he thinks he can turn the situation around and erase the problem.

In a ridiculously dramatic fashion, he pulled his wand from his robe and pointed it at me. Even though I was expecting it, my wand hand jerked a little. He didn't know it, but I have had my wand trained on him since he walked in and sat down.

Lockhart's smile appeared on his face, but this time it was more deranged than charming. "I bet you didn't expect this," He crowed. "You're right, of course. I did steal all those adventures for myself. You see, I've never been much of a wizard. But when I was young, I found I had a talent with memories. From sealing them to rewriting them into something else entirely. And all I need to do to make this go away is do what I do best one more time."

Lockhart stared at my expressionless face, "Don't worry whoever you are," he sneered. "I'll make sure you don't remember a thing." With one hand, he brushed his wavy blond hair back over his head, and with the other, he pointed his wand at me and chanted "Obliviate."