A/N: Written for QLFC and HSWW (Challenges and Assignments)

(QLFC) Position: Keeper; Team: Wimbourne Wasps; Task: Write about the Whispering Wizard

(HSWW) Showtime: A Man's Gotta Do - (character) Gilderoy Lockhart

Christmas at the Movies: Holiday Inn: Write about a rift between friends

Word Count: 1,246

Walking… Waiting…

Desperate for someone could hear his pleas.

Hoping… Hating…

Dejected at the fact that no one could hear his screams.

Though he couldn't blame them; he could only whisper, so how could they hear him clearly?

It wasn't always like this. He wasn't always known as the Whispering Wizard. He was normal once.

Edgar Mallard was a fine man, wearing nothing but the fine suits that met his fancy. He kept his hair combed back to match the refined look that his partner, Gilderoy Lockhart would have himself.

The duo had worked together for some time now, chasing their dreams of fame and fortune since they were teens in Hogwarts. Gilderoy was the brains, whereas Edgar was the brawn in their partnership. Once Gilderoy had some idea or scheme, Edgar was all for it and would aim to achieve the task.

That was their way over the years, and while Edgar did the work, it was Gilderoy who would take all the credit. Edgar didn't mind, as it was his friend, and Gilderoy vowed that Edgar would be recognized and acknowledged in his works.

The more famous Gilderoy became, the less Edgar was heard from. That distance and detachment grew in the friendship, straining it immensely. Edgar would buy every book, witness every interview, arrive at every signing, and not once was his name or assistance broadcasted.

It didn't sit right with Edgar that his once best friend and partner would do this to him, but he should have known better given the person that Gilderoy had become. At the last book signing that Edgar attended, he clenched his fists and vowed that his name would be heard, and that Gilderoy was going to be the one to do it.

0..0..0

Gilderoy was sauntering down the cobblestones in Diagon Alley one night when Edgar found him. He followed him from a distance, wand at the ready when he whistled and caught Gilderoy's attention.

He turned around swiftly, eyes narrowed as he looked upon Edgar. He must have recognized him because the look was quickly replaced with a wide, charming grin, and Edgar clasped his hands behind his back to conceal his wand from Gilderoy's sight.

"Edgar, my lad! It's been too long," Gilderoy said, shifting his arms open before setting them at his sides. "What can I do for you? An autograph, perhaps?" He grinned. "I vanquished another vampire not too long ago, and a new set of pictures are up for the signing!"

Edgar scoffed, bitterness was evident in his tone. "You're nothing but a fraud," he spat. "What of my credit that I'm due and that you promised to give."

Gilderoy held his hands up. "Now, now, let's not get hasty here…"

"It's been years, Gilderoy," Edgar continued. "Did our friendship mean nothing to you? You would have been nothing if it weren't for me!"

The cheerful expression didn't waver on Gilderoy's face. "Come now, Edgar, you and I both know that it was me that made the success. I said you would be included in my books and you have!"

"...Are you telling me that I was the dog that you took care of for years that you wrote about in Chapter Four?"

"So you have read my books then?"

"How dare you compare me to a dog when I did everything for you!"

"It's nothing to take personal, Edgar, after all, we can both agree the right person is getting the credit for the accomplishments achieved here."

"Not if I go to the Prophet myself. I'm going to tell them everything."

"You wouldn't have the credibility," Gilderoy said, waving a hand dismissively.

Edgar felt betrayed and angered; most of all, he felt hurt that his once best mate would do such a thing. He raised his wand to Gilderoy with a deep frown etched upon his face. Edgar gave two simple words in response. "Watch me."

He turned on his heel, mentally preparing his words for a reporter when a jet of light shot past his face. Edgar turned to find Gilderoy had his wand out as well, a determined look on his face.

"I did not build this image just for you to tear it down, Edgar," he said, "so I'm going to have to tie up this loose end before it gets out of hand."

Edgar pursed his lips; it shouldn't have come to this. His fingers held firm around his wand at his side as he nodded. "So be it."

The two fired spells at one another, Gilderoy shooting offensive spells while Edgar cast defensive ones. Edgar didn't want to hurt Gilderoy; he just wanted his part in the success to be heard. But it was clear that Gilderoy didn't feel the same way.

Other civilians wandering Diagon Alley that night had long since run for shelter from the reflected spells bouncing off the walls and shields, and Gilderoy was beginning to falter in his confidence.

"All of this because you can't share the credit that I'm due," Edgar said. "Is it really worth it?"

Gilderoy licked his lips, a gleam in his eyes. "Yes," he answered, "and it's not because I can't share it, it's because I won't." He shouted an unfamiliar spell, something Edgar didn't recognize.

It was clear that something was amiss and that Gilderoy wasn't entirely sure what he had cast.

Edgar attempted to shield himself from the misspoken spell, but it was too late. Whatever it was that hit Edgar, it propelled him back into a wall. He dematerialized, and he felt every piece of his body separating.

Edgar screamed in pain, begging for help, but the last sight that he saw of Gilderoy Lockhart was him putting his wand away and walking away.

The curse continued to push Edgar through the wall until he was completely on the other side. He touched his face, feeling whole again, but as he looked around, Edgar knew he'd somehow ended up in a dreary side street in Knockturn Alley given the appearance of the shops.

He cleared his throat and tried to speak, yet his words came out so soft, barely a whisper. Panicked, Edgar grabbed at his throat but he couldn't speak normally.

Edgar fell to his knees, trying to scream; however, nothing came out. Gilderoy Lockhart had completely taken away Edgar's voice. He knew he would never be heard.

Edgar now wandered aimlessly through the grubby spaces of Knockturn Alley; he had no other choice thanks to the curse that backstabbing Lockhart cast upon him. He tried leaving Knockturn Alley once, but he was repelled right back where he'd arrived. Edgar didn't believe Gilderoy knew what he had done.

Edgar's appearance was beyond recognition, not that he was recognized by many anyway. He had no proper clothing, and Edgar could only revive the robes he had on that night for so long before it grew tiresome. The lack of proper communication had driven Edgar to madness, as the only things that he could speak through were the walls.

No person could listen to his woes. No one in the area would care.

His mad mind wouldn't allow him to think of anything but a way out of his despair. One day Edgar would be able to free himself from his curse, and whispering through the walls was the only way he was going get it. When that day came, Edgar was going to pay The Daily Prophet and Gilderoy Lockhart a visit.