Part One.
Nurse Periwinkle Garstang's shoes clicked softly on the polished oak floor as she made her rounds, checking on the patients in the Charms Ward of St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.
Every so often, she paused by a bed to tap a patient's empty glass with her wand, so that it was refilled with refreshing pumpkin juice in case the bed's occupant woke up feeling thirsty. She frowned as she spotted an empty bed, the sheets rumpled, the blankets carelessly thrown back. A wand lay on the bedside table and a pair of fluffy bluebell-coloured slippers lay on the floor nearby. She felt the sheets, a trick that had little to do with magic but one that she found extremely useful in her line of work. They were cold. This wasn't just a bathroom visit; the patient had been gone for quite some time.
Nurse Garstang sighed. It went past annoying, the highhanded way some of the doctors behaved - admitting and discharging patients as they saw fit, without bothering to let any of their colleagues know about it. Honestly, anyone could walk in off the street and pretend to be in need of medical care, using up hospital resources. It didn't help her do her job properly and Nurse Garstang was someone who liked things to be done properly. She glared at Dr Polycarp Bird as he breezed past with his clipboard. She might well have given the same look to anyone who happened to pass at that moment, but it wasn't completely unfair to target him. Although his winning smile and darkly handsome features had got him off the hook time and time again, Dr Bird was one of the worst offenders. "Doctor! What have I told you about discharging patients without letting me know?"
Dr Bird flashed her a smile that would have melted some of the less experienced members of staff -- both male and female. He consulted his notes. "No one's been discharged today, nurse," he said.
"In that case we have a missing patient."
"What, here? In the Charms Ward?"
By way of an answer, Nurse Garstang pointed to the empty bed with her wand, efficiently saying "Derectus!" at the same time so that the blankets straightened themselves and the sheets tucked themselves in neatly. "The security at this hospital is simply atrocious," she told him.
Dr Bird examined the patient notes clipped to the end of the empty bed. A small photograph of the patient was fastened to the corner of the notes with an annoyingly eager-to-please paperclip that kept trying to attract Bird's attention with its bizarre contortions and even more bizarre suggestions as to how he might do his job more efficiently. Meanwhile, the patient's image blinked up at him in a rather bewildered manner. Bird was sure he recognised the name - and the face. "Gilderoy Lockhart, hmm? Bit of a celebrity in his day, wasn't he? Wonder what became of him?"
Nurse Garstang snatched the notes away and reattached them to the end of Lockhart's bed. "That," she said severely, "is exactly what we need to find out."
"I suppose we should count ourselves lucky that it's just a Charms patient that's gone missing," said Dr Bird as together they hurried to the exit.
"Indeed," said Nurse Garstang, but she wasn't smiling. She picked up Lockhart's wand from the bedside table and twirled it thoughtfully. Wands didn't much like being separated from their owners which meant they could be a useful tool in tracking missing persons. "You don't need me to tell you how serious it could be if someone from the Curses ward wandered off!" she added darkly as they pushed open the double doors that led out of the ward.
+++
Gilderoy knew his first name perfectly well. During his time in St Mungo's the nurses addressed him by it so frequently he could hardly have failed to gather that much. _Don't forget to eat your breakfast, Gilderoy. Do you remember what happens on Mondays, Gilderoy? You've not forgotten to go to the bathroom, have you, Gilderoy?_ It wasn't as if he was about to forget it either. Not with the blonde witch in the nurse's uniform scurrying in front of him and turning every so often to say, "Hurry up, Gilderoy! Nearly there!"
He didn't know much else about himself though and that thought troubled him as he followed the witch through the bustle of Diagon Alley on a market day, dressed in forget-me-not blue pyjamas that exactly matched the colour of his eyes. In fact, it troubled him almost as much as his poor delicate feet which were starting to chafe painfully on the pavement - how he wished he'd remembered his, er, his, um -- well, he wished he'd remembered them!
Was there anything else to know about himself? There must be, he was sure of it. Unable to resist, he sneaked a glance at his reflection in the bookshop window as he passed. He grinned and an unfamiliar but undeniably handsome blond reflection grinned back showing off a set of perfectly straight and dazzlingly white teeth. Such a charming smile, thought Gilderoy. He stroked his golden curls, which were looking rather unkempt - evidently the nurses at St Mungo's were too preoccupied with all those sick people to deal with real emergencies such as bad hair days. What a mess! Hopefully the blonde nurse who had taken him out of St Mungo's and was now leading him through the crowds for "routine tests," would be able to tease his hair into something vaguely resembling a fashion statement. Although, Gilderoy thought, if she'd picked out the frames for those glasses she was wearing, he'd be mad to pay too much attention to any style tips she might offer. Even so, he thought, lingering by his reflection, surely someone as devilishly handsome as this would have been unable to avoid greatness. Surely --
He stopped. And stared. Something in the shop window had caught his attention. It wasn't his reflection, but it might as well have been.
The witch turned back. Her voice was honeyed and her gold teeth glinted warmly when she smiled, but Gilderoy thought he detected an acid note of impatience in her tone. "Come on, Gilderoy! Not much further now!"
Gilderoy didn't move. He continued to stare through the window, transfixed by one of the books in the display. The blonde witch rolled her eyes and tried to pull him away by his sleeve. When that didn't work, she followed his stare to the large glossy book propped up in the window. "Yes, yes," she sighed impatiently. "We all know about your autobiography, gripping stuff, but I've got my future career to think about here. What I'm looking for is a follow-up story to your experiences at Hogwarts - _Gilderoy Lockhart and the Chamber of Secrets_. Got a ring to it, don't you think?"
If Gilderoy had been listening, he might have thought that a strange thing for a nurse to say. However, he wasn't paying attention. He was still gazing in shock at the book and his cover photograph, which had started pouting and fluttering its eyelashes at him. He read the title: _Magical Me_ and the by-line underneath his picture: _Gilderoy Lockhart_.
"Magical?" he said wonderingly. "_Me?_"
_______________________
Disclaimer: No part of the Harry Potter universe belongs to me. No, not even the cobwebby little corner where Filch keeps his bucket and mop. It all belongs to JK Rowling who created it.
Nurse Periwinkle Garstang's shoes clicked softly on the polished oak floor as she made her rounds, checking on the patients in the Charms Ward of St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.
Every so often, she paused by a bed to tap a patient's empty glass with her wand, so that it was refilled with refreshing pumpkin juice in case the bed's occupant woke up feeling thirsty. She frowned as she spotted an empty bed, the sheets rumpled, the blankets carelessly thrown back. A wand lay on the bedside table and a pair of fluffy bluebell-coloured slippers lay on the floor nearby. She felt the sheets, a trick that had little to do with magic but one that she found extremely useful in her line of work. They were cold. This wasn't just a bathroom visit; the patient had been gone for quite some time.
Nurse Garstang sighed. It went past annoying, the highhanded way some of the doctors behaved - admitting and discharging patients as they saw fit, without bothering to let any of their colleagues know about it. Honestly, anyone could walk in off the street and pretend to be in need of medical care, using up hospital resources. It didn't help her do her job properly and Nurse Garstang was someone who liked things to be done properly. She glared at Dr Polycarp Bird as he breezed past with his clipboard. She might well have given the same look to anyone who happened to pass at that moment, but it wasn't completely unfair to target him. Although his winning smile and darkly handsome features had got him off the hook time and time again, Dr Bird was one of the worst offenders. "Doctor! What have I told you about discharging patients without letting me know?"
Dr Bird flashed her a smile that would have melted some of the less experienced members of staff -- both male and female. He consulted his notes. "No one's been discharged today, nurse," he said.
"In that case we have a missing patient."
"What, here? In the Charms Ward?"
By way of an answer, Nurse Garstang pointed to the empty bed with her wand, efficiently saying "Derectus!" at the same time so that the blankets straightened themselves and the sheets tucked themselves in neatly. "The security at this hospital is simply atrocious," she told him.
Dr Bird examined the patient notes clipped to the end of the empty bed. A small photograph of the patient was fastened to the corner of the notes with an annoyingly eager-to-please paperclip that kept trying to attract Bird's attention with its bizarre contortions and even more bizarre suggestions as to how he might do his job more efficiently. Meanwhile, the patient's image blinked up at him in a rather bewildered manner. Bird was sure he recognised the name - and the face. "Gilderoy Lockhart, hmm? Bit of a celebrity in his day, wasn't he? Wonder what became of him?"
Nurse Garstang snatched the notes away and reattached them to the end of Lockhart's bed. "That," she said severely, "is exactly what we need to find out."
"I suppose we should count ourselves lucky that it's just a Charms patient that's gone missing," said Dr Bird as together they hurried to the exit.
"Indeed," said Nurse Garstang, but she wasn't smiling. She picked up Lockhart's wand from the bedside table and twirled it thoughtfully. Wands didn't much like being separated from their owners which meant they could be a useful tool in tracking missing persons. "You don't need me to tell you how serious it could be if someone from the Curses ward wandered off!" she added darkly as they pushed open the double doors that led out of the ward.
+++
Gilderoy knew his first name perfectly well. During his time in St Mungo's the nurses addressed him by it so frequently he could hardly have failed to gather that much. _Don't forget to eat your breakfast, Gilderoy. Do you remember what happens on Mondays, Gilderoy? You've not forgotten to go to the bathroom, have you, Gilderoy?_ It wasn't as if he was about to forget it either. Not with the blonde witch in the nurse's uniform scurrying in front of him and turning every so often to say, "Hurry up, Gilderoy! Nearly there!"
He didn't know much else about himself though and that thought troubled him as he followed the witch through the bustle of Diagon Alley on a market day, dressed in forget-me-not blue pyjamas that exactly matched the colour of his eyes. In fact, it troubled him almost as much as his poor delicate feet which were starting to chafe painfully on the pavement - how he wished he'd remembered his, er, his, um -- well, he wished he'd remembered them!
Was there anything else to know about himself? There must be, he was sure of it. Unable to resist, he sneaked a glance at his reflection in the bookshop window as he passed. He grinned and an unfamiliar but undeniably handsome blond reflection grinned back showing off a set of perfectly straight and dazzlingly white teeth. Such a charming smile, thought Gilderoy. He stroked his golden curls, which were looking rather unkempt - evidently the nurses at St Mungo's were too preoccupied with all those sick people to deal with real emergencies such as bad hair days. What a mess! Hopefully the blonde nurse who had taken him out of St Mungo's and was now leading him through the crowds for "routine tests," would be able to tease his hair into something vaguely resembling a fashion statement. Although, Gilderoy thought, if she'd picked out the frames for those glasses she was wearing, he'd be mad to pay too much attention to any style tips she might offer. Even so, he thought, lingering by his reflection, surely someone as devilishly handsome as this would have been unable to avoid greatness. Surely --
He stopped. And stared. Something in the shop window had caught his attention. It wasn't his reflection, but it might as well have been.
The witch turned back. Her voice was honeyed and her gold teeth glinted warmly when she smiled, but Gilderoy thought he detected an acid note of impatience in her tone. "Come on, Gilderoy! Not much further now!"
Gilderoy didn't move. He continued to stare through the window, transfixed by one of the books in the display. The blonde witch rolled her eyes and tried to pull him away by his sleeve. When that didn't work, she followed his stare to the large glossy book propped up in the window. "Yes, yes," she sighed impatiently. "We all know about your autobiography, gripping stuff, but I've got my future career to think about here. What I'm looking for is a follow-up story to your experiences at Hogwarts - _Gilderoy Lockhart and the Chamber of Secrets_. Got a ring to it, don't you think?"
If Gilderoy had been listening, he might have thought that a strange thing for a nurse to say. However, he wasn't paying attention. He was still gazing in shock at the book and his cover photograph, which had started pouting and fluttering its eyelashes at him. He read the title: _Magical Me_ and the by-line underneath his picture: _Gilderoy Lockhart_.
"Magical?" he said wonderingly. "_Me?_"
_______________________
Disclaimer: No part of the Harry Potter universe belongs to me. No, not even the cobwebby little corner where Filch keeps his bucket and mop. It all belongs to JK Rowling who created it.