Chapter Nineteen –

Gilderoy and the Goblet

Waking up in Hogwarts once again was a magical feeling. Leanne was aware she was grinning innately as she pulled some clothes on, appreciating every little thing about the castle – even the slimy mess Trevor had left behind in the Gryffindor common room. The first-years were even more excited, if that was possible; Leanne saw the first-year Gryffindor girls staying together like a flock of birds, each taking it in turns to took around anxiously as if they were scared a predator would ambush them. Ginny Weasley, easy to spot with her flaming red hair, looked like she might faint in fright, although girl, Demelza Robins, looked a bit more confident and decided to lead the way through the portrait of the Fat Lady in an attempt to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

When Leanne reached the Great Hall, and helped herself to some bacon, she wasn't surprised to see that the first-years hadn't yet arrived; after all, the castle was a maze of corridors, moving stairs and misleading doors, and the threatening presence of Argus Filch, the caretaker, and the resident poltergeist, Peeves, didn't help matters.

'Nothing in here about Travers,' Frieda said, placing down the Daily Prophet, which she had been reading. 'He must still be in Azkaban – and that's where he'll stay. Lucius Malfoy was wrong.'

There was a small commotion a few seats down. A grey, tattered owl who looked like he was on the last of his small, shaking legs had fallen into the milk jug, spraying milk all over Hermione Granger's copy of Wandering with Werewolves ('Hey!' the moving picture of Gilderoy Lockhart on the front cover said indignantly). A red letter was clamped in its beak, which Ron Weasley extracted nervously.

'Well, they made it,' Leanne said, indicating to Ron and Harry, who was sitting next to him.

But Frieda wasn't listening. 'They've got a Howler,' she chuckled.

'A what?'

'Just watch.'

Leanne did watch. Ron opened the red envelope, and a voice suddenly exploded from within it, shaking dust from the ceiling of the Great Hall, which fell upon everyone's breakfast.

'…STEALING THE CAR, I WOULD'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TIL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT HAD GONE…'

As the voice, which undoubtedly belonged to Ron Weasley's mother, continued to shout at extreme volumes, Leanne was forced to put her hand over her ears.

'I wonder what they did,' Frieda muttered.

'Didn't you hear?' Dean Thomas asked, who had an amused expression on his face, speaking loudly to make himself heard over Mrs Weasley's thunderous voice. 'They drove Ron's father's flying car to school and it crashed into the Whomping Willow, you know, that huge tree out in the gardens that tries to hit people who go too close…'

Leanne couldn't help but laugh. Ron and Harry, however, looked thoroughly embarrassed, and it could not have been clearer from the scowl on Hermione's face that she was not in the least bit amused in her friend's antics the previous night.

'Serves them right,' Frieda said with a final laugh as the Howler burst into flames and curled into ashes.

Professor McGonagall came round with their time tables, and Leanne and Frieda saw they had Herbology first thing. After eating their breakfast, they joined the small crowd of Gryffindor and Hufflepuffs heading down to the greenhouses for the class. Leanne looked towards the Whomping Willow as she walked; she noticed that it was looking rather worse for wear – many of its branches were in slings.

Gilderoy Lockhart and Professor Sprout appeared. At first, Leanne was confused as to why the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was at the greenhouses, but then he explained that he'd been showing Professor Sprout how to correctly doctor a Whomping Willow.

'Greenhouse Three today, chaps,' Professor Sprout said in a tone of voice that showed she clearly knew how to take care of a Whomping Willow. She glanced over at Professor Lockhart in a disgruntled manner.

Leanne and Frieda traipsed in to the greenhouse, noticing that Lockhart had asked Harry to stay behind outside so he could have a word with him. Everyone took their places around the trestle bench in the middle of the greenhouse, being careful to stay away from the Venomous Tentacula, which extended his vines out towards anyone who strayed too close.

'Please no Fanged Geraniums,' Leanne muttered, looking down at the scars on her finger she had received from mishandling the feisty little plants the previous year. 'Can't we start off with something nice and harmless like Flutterby bushes?'

The answer was apparently no. Professor Sprout explained they would be potting Mandrakes, which looked harmless enough, but required you to wear earmuffs or else the screams of the Mandrakes would knock you out. The Mandrakes themselves looked like normal plants… except instead of roots, they had an ugly, baby-like body.

Frieda was saying something about the Mandrakes, but, since they were all wearing earmuffs to protect themselves, Leanne couldn't tell what she was saying. However, if the screwed-up expression on her face was anything to go by, she wasn't exactly giving the Mandrakes compliments. The Mandrakes themselves were extremely uncooperative and didn't seem to want to be potted, especially since the pot Leanne had been given was about half the size of the Mandrake itself.

Finally, the Mandrakes were more or less potted (Leanne's was simply covered in a pile of dragon dung compost), the earmuffs had been removed, and everyone traipsed back to the castle for Transfiguration.

Professor McGonagall seemed to have lost none of her strict attitude over the summer, and instantly set them the task of turning beetles into buttons, which was easier said than done; Frieda seemed to have lost hers, and although Leanne thought she had successfully transfigured the beetle into a button, it turned out it had simply died, probably due to the over-excursion of scurrying around on the table, trying to avoid Leanne's repeated wand jabs. Ron, meanwhile, seemed to have broken his wand for it emitted copious amounts of grey smoke, and in the confusion, squashed his beetle with his elbow. Duncan, who shared Transfiguration with the Gryffindors, accidentally jabbed his beetle into oblivion, whilst Trevor had escaped and was rapidly eating the remaining supplies. Just when Leanne was started to become severely concerned about the population of beetles in Britain, Professor McGonagall decided to end the lesson there, with only Hermione having completed the task.

The three of them went down to lunch, eager for a break. Duncan and Frieda still weren't having amicable conversations, so Leanne thought it best to sit between them. Duncan busied himself with his Charms homework, whilst Frieda removed the edition of the Evening Prophet.

'I wonder how Lockhart got a job here,' Duncan muttered, nodding to where Lockhart was sitting, beaming around the Great Hall. 'He says he's done all these things – getting rid of vampires and hags – but nobody really believes all that, do they?'

'No offence to Dumbledore,' Leanne said, 'but he's not exactly had a record of hiring perfect members of staff. I mean, Snape's an ex-Death Eater, and Quirrell was possessed by Vol – sorry, You-Know-Who! He probably wanted someone who he was sure wasn't a Dark Wizard.'

'Hey, hey, look at this!' Frieda cried suddenly, spreading the Evening Prophet out before them.

Leanne's eyes scanned past an article about how Muggles were mistaking entries in Annual International Wizard Gardening Competition's Contorting Cereal Division for crop circles to a small column at the bottom of the page where Frieda was pointing. Leanne and Duncan leaned over and eagerly read what it said:

Today, at approximately eight o'clock in the morning, something was stolen from the Azkaban archives. The island prison, located in the North Sea, renowns itself for its strict security, aided in part by the Dementors, emotion-draining creatures that guard Azkaban's myriad of prisoners, many of them Death Eaters.

However, this did not stop an item of importance from being stolen from the Azkaban archives, where all items taken from the prisoners upon the time of their capture are placed. The item in question is thought to be a goblet that was found on the possession of Bellatrix Lestrange, a known Death Eater, when she was found guilt of torture and arrested in the early 1980s. The goblet, and item of dark power, was locked away from eleven years within the Azkaban archives, but its sudden disappearance has led the Dementors and guards to believe it has been stolen. How, and by whom, is currently being investigated.

Duncan looked up. 'So?' he asked. 'I don't under – '

'Didn't you say Travers had mentioned a goblet when he captured you in the forest?' Frieda asked, interrupted Duncan.

Leanne wracked her mind. 'Yeah, I remember now,' she realised suddenly. 'He said he knew where one of the items was located, and that he'd heard a rumour about where another was hidden. I'm guessing the one he knew the whereabouts of was the skull held by Kevin Yaxley because he went to get it off him. He thought the other one was in Gringotts, but Dumbledore said it had been removed a long time ago. The only item that he said he didn't have a clue of its whereabouts was the goblet – yes, I remember now.'

'Well, it looks like he's found it now,' Frieda said, matter-of-factly. 'It was in Azkaban.'

'Of course, it makes sense now!' Leanne realised loudly, but quickly lowering her voice again. 'Lucius Malfoy must have been right. He found out where the goblet was and deliberately got himself captured so he could get the goblet. But… how?'

'How what? How did he get himself captured?' Duncan asked. 'I think that's pretty obvious…'

'No, how he managed to get the goblet,' Leanne corrected quickly. 'I'm sure prisoners aren't just allowed to do pawing through the Azkaban archives…'

Frieda and Duncan were silent, trying to think of a possible way Derrick Travers could have accomplished it. Leanne could feel a shiver going down her spine. Travers obviously knew of a way of escaping from Azkaban or he wouldn't have got himself captured in the first place. She wanted to go and tell somebody what she had learned, but she already knew what the answer would be: 'Don't worry, Leanne, he won't escape from Azkaban, it's impossible.'

'I'll keep an eye on the Daily Prophet from now on,' Frieda promised, after quickly scanning through the rest of the paper in the case they had missed a small article.

'Do you think Dumbledore has read this and realised that the goblet is one of the items?' Duncan wondered.

Leanne looked up towards the High Table, but Dumbledore wasn't even seated there. She saw Snape peering around the room with his usual cold eyes, and quickly lowered her gaze.

'Doesn't look like Snape had a very good summer,' she muttered to the others. 'Still looks as bitter as ever.'

'Looks like no one answered my prayers wishing that he would get sacked,' Frieda said, and Leanne and Duncan laughed. 'I think I might throw my cauldron over his head when we have Potions – '

'Not talking about me, are we?' said a silky voice behind them; Leanne jumped and turned around to see the unpleasant face of Severus Snape a few inches from her own, a cruel expression on his face.

'No, we were, er, talking about, erm, Professor Lockhart,' Leanne stammered, saying the first name that popped into her head.

'I'm sure you are,' Snape said softly, 'especially since Professor Lockhart is in your Potions class…' He straightened up. 'I'd lower your voice in the future, Miss McFarlan,' he whispered as he started to walk away. 'And, oh, Mr Chambers, I'd advise you to sit at your own table in the future.'

Leanne glared after Snape as Duncan headed over to the Ravenclaw table, but no sooner had he cleared the vicinity than another person had replaced him. Leanne blinked and had to sit back to actually see who it was. The smiling face of Gilderoy Lockhart peered back at her, a jovial expression on his face.

'Heard you say my name as I passed,' he said brightly. 'No doubt telling Professor Snape about my amazing adventures, hmm? Yes, Severus is quite interested in my work, I'll admit. But between you and me, I think there's a spot of jealousy there.' His eyes twinkled as he smiled. 'Gryffindor second-years, are you? Well, you're in luck – I have you for Defence Against the Dark Arts next.'

'Wonderful,' Frieda muttered, as Lockhart moved away, smiling at everyone brightly, although few people smiled back, and those that did seemed to be excited, giggling girls.

'Well, we'd better get going, I suppose,' Leanne said unenthusiastically, as they stood up and started making their way up towards the first floor, where the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom was located.

'Hey, you're Leanne Davies, aren't you?' asked a voice as they were able to climb the staircase in the Entrance Hall.

Leanne turned around to see a first-year Gryffindor girl standing behind them, looking quite quizzical. She had seen her at the Sorting Ceremony but had forgotten her name.

'Er, yes, I am,' Leanne replied, wondering how she knew her name.

'I thought so,' the girl said, nodding. 'I'm Demelza Robins – I'm in Gryffindor too. My father works at the Ministry, you see – Leonard Robins… perhaps you've heard of him – works in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes…' Frieda nodded in acknowledgement. 'Well, he told me about you, you know,' Demelza continued, looking back at Leanne. 'When they caught that Travers guy, he told him there had been an incident with you concerning him last year. My father is an Obliviator, you see – he had to modify a few memories when Travers ran out into London as they tried to arrest them.'

'Oh,' Leanne said. 'I didn't know he tried to escape into London.'

'Yeah, caused quite a commotion,' Demelza grimaced. 'A lot of Muggles saw what happened – they were a bit confused and scared, I can say. Luckily, the Ministry cleaned everything up… found all the Muggles that witnessed the event and wiped their memories.'

'So… lots of people know about what happened last year,' Leanne asked, thinking the whole situation had been kept under wraps.

'Most things spread round the Ministry like that,' Demelza said, 'but don't worry – I can keep it quiet if you like. I just wanted to see if the story was true. Well, see you around.'

Demelza melded into a crowd of fellow first-years, and Leanne and Frieda continued their journey towards the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. They found it almost empty; Harry Potter was sitting right at the back, seemingly trying to hide himself behind a large stack of Gilderoy Lockhart's books, whilst Lockhart himself was standing at the front of the class, beaming as they entered. They weaved their way through the tables until they found some good seats in a corner, watching as the rest of the class came in.

'You can tell this is going to be a long year,' Frieda muttered as Lockhart picked up a copy of Travels with Trolls and pointed to his own winking portrait on the front, telling the class how he had won Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award or something.

Lockhart then proceeded to set them a small quiz at how much they had read the books. Leanne was slightly startled; she had only had a quick flip through them, and a quick glance towards Frieda told her she had done the same. However, Lavender Brown, who was sitting in front of them, seemed to know what she was doing, so tried to copy her answers in the least conspicuous way possible. Luckily, Lockhart was too busy admiring his own portraits to notice.

With the tests over, the lesson continued, and Leanne found herself staring at Lockhart in disbelief, though not in awe at what he had supposedly done like some people, such as Hermione Granger and Lavender Brown, but rather in disbelief that someone could be so full of themselves. Other people, especially Ron Weasley and Dean Thomas, also had similar incredulous expressions on their faces.

For a brief second, Leanne actually started to get excited when Lockhart extracted a covered cage from behind his desk and starting saying that what was contained within was amongst the 'foulest creatures known to wizardkind'; however, the excitement quickly passed when Lockhart whisked the cover away, revealing some small, blue creatures that didn't look anything like the terrifying creature with fangs that Leanne had imagined to be locked away in the cage.

'Yes,' Lockhart said loudly. 'Freshly caught Cornish pixies.'

Unsurprisingly, there wasn't an uproar of terror as people ran for the door. Even Neville Longbottom, who was sitting right in front of the cage, looked unperturbed.

'Right then,' Lockhart said, eager to impress the class. 'Let's see what you make of them!'

He opened the cage and the pixies shot out to all four corners of the room, ripping books, overturning tables, throwing ink bottles everywhere, upended the waste bin on Dean Thomas' head, lifted Neville into the air and hung him from the candelabra, smashed windows and threw books and bags through them (Leanne grabbed hold of her own bag tightly as a pixie tried to wrench it from her grasp) and generally started terrorising everyone as they ducked to find a safe place to hide.

'Peskipiksi Pesternomi!' Lockhart shouted, although Leanne had a sneaky suspicion that it wasn't even a real spell for nothing whatsoever happened – the pixies continued their rampage.

The bell suddenly rang and everyone dashed for the exit, eager to escape. Leanne and Frieda managed to get to the door just before Harry, Ron and Hermione, which was just as well because Leanne heard Lockhart asking them to stuff the rest of the pixies in their cages. Lockhart bustled out of the door, mopping his brow.

'I don't know who is worse – Lockhart or Quirrell,' Frieda muttered. 'I know Quirrell was being possessed by You-Know-Who and all, but at least he taught us a few things. All Lockhart has showed us so far is how to create a huge mess… There's no way he's done all the things in those books that he's said he has…'

As they headed back the Gryffindor Common Room, Leanne also found herself musing over the choice, and like Frieda, found it a very difficult one indeed.