Lord Voldemort couldn't believe how easy the security in the St. Mungo's Hopsital was like. He managed to convince one of his followers to kidnap Gilderoy Lockhart. He wondered why he was staying at St. Mungo for awhile. He sat still in his old house that his muggle father has called home. He looked at the mirror that hung above the fireplace and saw his reflection in it. He knew he didn't quite look like his old self again but this was better than being disembodied. Finally he heard the door downstairs open and the loud voices that belonged to one of his follower who was trying to get Lockhart in the house without being seen.

"I'll say where am I? Who are you?" asked Lockhart as he was forcibly pushed into the house by the DE.

"Get in, he wants to see you!"

"Who wants to see me?" asked Lockhart as he stood in the main hall grinning.

"Never mind, go up that stairs you fool. The master wants to talk to you."

"Okay, what is the stairs?" Lockhart wondered out loud as he looked at various things on the wall of the house in the main hall.

The DE smacks his hand on his forehead and shook his head. He finally had enough of Lockhart asking so many pointless questions so he grabbed Lockhart and dragged him up the stairs to the room where Lord Voldemort was waiting.

The door opened in Lockhart was pushed in and the door slammed shut quite loudly. Lockhart spun around and looked dumbly at the door until Lord Voldemort spoke to him.

"Welcome Gilderoy Lockhart, I have heard tremendous stories about you. Mostly from your books of course. You have a flair for writing and I want you to teach me how to write my own books about my quest for power." Flaunted Lord Voldemort.

"You don't know how to write? How can you not?" asked Lockhart.

Voldemort eyes narrowed down and wondered why he would ask such a stupid question, "Turn around and face me or do you tremble in fear in seeing the most hated and feared man of all in the wizarding world?"

Lockhart turned around and walked up to Voldemort and looked at his face, "You have a clay face?"

Voldemort stepped back at that remark and stared at Lockhart hard, trying to make sense out of him.

"What's wrong? Why am I here?" paused Lockhart as he looked around the room and then seeing a desk he remembered, "Writing, you want me to teach you to write. Come on, time for you to learn."

Lord Voldemort still watched Lockhart closely and followed him to the writing desk. Lockhart sat down and took two pieces of paper and found a quill in the ink pot. "I can't believe you don't know how to write. Never fear, I am here. I at one time had to learn to write but it's very easy you know. Now…how do you spell your name?" asked Lockhart.

"You don't know how to spell my name? It's Lord V-o-l-d-e-m-o-r-t if you must know."

"Good, here's how you write your name. See how nice and the letter L flows? Now, you try." Lockhart smiled as he handed Voldemort the feather quill.

"What? What are you doing?" asked Voldemort as he took the quill from Lockhart quickly.

"Well, you said you wanted me to teach you to write." Answered Lockhart quickly.

"Not writing write! You fool, I wanted you to teach me how to write a book!!" snarled Voldemort.

"Well, then why didn't you say so?" asked Lockhart as he stared at Voldemort.

"Lockhart, don't you know who I am? Do not test my patience!" yelled Voldemort.

"Of course I know who you are, you're Lord Voldemort! You are a fan of my books! That's from I hear anyhow." Muttered Lockhart under his breath.

"Well, you're pretty famous for stopping many things, bad things. Don't you know what I have done to people that try my patience?" baited Voldemort.

"I'm famous? Are you someone who's famous?" asked a shocked Lockhart.

"Wormtail!!" shouted Voldemort at the top of his lungs.

The door creeped open and Peter Pettigrew poked his head in, "Yes my lord?"

"What happened to Lockhart? He doesn't sound like the same man that I have read in the books of his!" snarled Voldemort as he pointed to Lockhart who by then has resumed writing the letters of Voldemort name.

"Don't you know my lord? What happened to him was simple enough; Harry Potter and his friend Ronald Weasley harmed him in their second year of school. Apparently Lockhart attempted to do a memory charm and it backfired on himself. He doesn't know who he is. Why is he here my lord?" explained Peter.

"I wanted him to help me write a book of my own but that apparently has been foiled by POTTER regardless! Take him back to St. Mungo! I have no use for him now!" ordered Lord Voldemort.

"Aye my master, I will retrieve the person who fetched him in the first place and have him out of your sight." Nodded Peter as he closed the door to do his master's bidding.

"Look, here's your name all written up! Now that wasn't so hard, are you going to try?" asked Lockhart as he smiled up at Voldemort.

"Get…out…of…my…sight!" spoke Lord Voldemort very slowly as he clenched his hand around the quill that he still had in his hand. It snapped into two and he looked down and growled some more. It was his favourite quill.

"Blast it all! Harry Potter, you shall pay for this!" snarled Voldemort as he stalked his way back to his comfy chair and decided to sulk in it for awhile. He can still hear Lockhart talking to himself and he suddenly felt a headache coming from behind his eyes. He groaned and closed his eyes while he massaged one of his temples with his free hand.

Eventually the DE came back and took Lockhart back to St. Mungo, and Voldemort didn't have to worry about his place being revealed for he knew that Lockhart wouldn't remember it in the first place.