Gilderoy Lockhart sat at his new desk, taking it all in. Not only was he the most famous wizard in the world, he was now the most powerful man in the world. And once he led Wizarding Britain to victory he would become a legend. His name would be known for centuries to come. Children would be taught his exploits. His name would stand alongside the likes of Merlin, Godric Gryffindor and Morgana. And it all started here.
But, before he took the fight to Voldemort, there was other stuff to take care of first. The public would demand a statement, of course. And then there was redecorating his office—it was just so dull and lifeless right now. And he needed a fresh portrait commissioned.
There came a knock at his door. "Come in," Lockhart said.
A red-haired young man entered who was wearing smart robes and horn-rimmed glasses.
"Ah …" Lockhart hesitated, searching his memory for the name. He knew it was something Weasley. "Philip?"
"Percy, sir," the young man said, offering his hand.
"Percy, of course—Arthur Weasley's boy?"
"That's right, sir," said Percy.
Lockhart gazed at Percy for a few seconds. He had a reputation in the Ministry as being very smart but very ambitious and had let his ambition get in the way of common sense last year when he failed to notice his boss, Barty Crouch, was under the imperious curse.
"You're here about the junior assistant position?"
"Yes, sir—Professor Dumbledore said he wrote a letter of recommendation," Percy said.
Lockhart glanced at his desk. "This thing?" he lifted up a sheet of parchment. It was stained where he had left a mug of tea on it. "No need for that, no need at all. The position's yours." He gave Percy a jovial smile.
"It is?" Percy looked stunned.
"Of course—I remember you from my days at Hogwarts. Best student in the class. And I know your reputation—it's only natural that you want to learn from me, follow in my footsteps." Lockhart said.
"Yes, sir—it's a great opportunity," Percy said, eagerly. "I want to have a long and successful career and the Ministry, and who better to learn from than the Minister himself."
Lockhart smiled. "Stick with me, Percy, and you'll go far. Now, are you ready to begin? No time like the present—got some parchment? Good lad, good lad. Now, send an owl to Rita—Rita Skeeter at the Prophet—I'm going to make a statement. Got to assure the wizarding world that they picked the right man for the job." He winked.
Percy, dutifully, wrote down what Lockhart said.
"Next, get a few strong lads to pop round to my home—there's some boxes of photographs, awards and first-edition copies of my books, I want them here."
"Right away, sir," said Percy.
"Finally—who is in charge of official portraits?"
"Amadeus Parkinson," said Percy.
"Get in touch with him, I want my new portrait doing—actually, while you're at it, get my best lilac robes with matching beret—the peacock feather one—pressed and ironed. I need to look my best."
"Anything, else sir?" asked Percy.
Lockhart scratched his chin, thoughtfully. The important stuff was out of the way, but what if he could make a splash on the wizarding world right away? His mind worked rapidly as he tried to think of something big and attention-grabbing that he could do to make an immediate impact as Minister. After all, his legacy began now. Might as well start with a bang!
"Send a memo to Kingsley Shacklebolt—he's the acting Head Auror?"
"He is, sir," confirmed Percy.
"Good, send him to my office—it's time to take the fight to You-Know-Who."
Lockhart looked up from his desk when Shacklebolt entered. He was a tall, imposing looking wizard with a stern gaze.
"Ah, Kingsley, good to see you," Lockhart said, cheerfully, putting down his peacock feather quill. He had been answering some fan mail.
"Minister," said Shacklebolt, sitting down in the chair opposite.
"I've been thinking," Lockhart said. "I think it's time we made your position as acting Head Auror permanent, don't you?"
"Rufus Scrimgeour hasn't faced trial yet," Shacklebolt said in his deep voice. "I am only filling in until he is back with us."
Lockhart gave a small shake of his head. "I'm afraid he'll be found guilty, you know? Oh yes—the evidence is clear cut. And I'll let you in on a little secret, I had my eyes on Scrimgeour from the start! Oh yes! Ever since I met him, I thought 'A-ha, Gilderoy—there is someone you need to keep an eye on'. Shifty eyes—you see. It's always a sign. And I'm an expert at sniffing out dark wizards, as I'm sure you know."
Shacklebolt didn't reply immediately and merely nodded. "Well, I thank you for your confidence, Minister."
"That's the spirit." Lockhart rummaged through his fan mail and found, at the bottom, the form he needed to make Shacklebolt's promotion official. He signed it with his peacock feather quill, then handed the quill over to Shacklebolt to do the same.
Shacklebolt's nose wrinkled slightly as he picked the large, extravagant quill up.
"Now," Lockhart said, clapping his hands together. "To other matters, Shacklebolt—or should I say, Head Auror." He winked, but Shacklebolt just stared silently back.
"Now, I think it's time we struck back at You-Know-Who, don't you?"
"Minister?" Shacklebolt queried, perking up a bit.
Lockhart smiled. He had cast the bait and now had him hooked.
"Madame Bones did a fine job keeping things steady of course—but what we need is decisive aggressive action, don't you agree?"
Shacklebolt gave a small nod.
"And what we need more than that, is a morale booster!"
Shacklebolt frowned ever so slightly.
"A swift, sudden strike against You-Know-Who that will make him think twice about messing with us AND, give my fans—the wizarding public—something to celebrate, how's that sound, eh?"
"Madame Bones had the Aurors searching for You-Know-Who. If we knew where he was, we would have struck already," said Shacklebolt.
Lockhart shook his head. "Of course, I know that—No, what I meant was, a swift strike against his supporters! Tell me, you have a list of all known Death Eaters?"
"We keep records," Shacklebolt said. "But we have raided their properties, and we keep an eye on who comes and goes. They're not hiding in Malfoy Manor or the Nott House or anywhere else."
Lockhart smiled widely. "Ah—but I have another thing in mind. We hit their families!"
"What?" Shacklebolt said. The coolness of his voice could have frozen water, but Lockhart didn't notice.
"Look—we hit hard and fast. Arrest the wives, the friends, the husbands, the parents—put them behind bars for a full investigation."
"We have no evidence that any of them are Death Eaters,"
"But they support them!" Lockhart argued. "Take the Malfoys, are you telling me Narcissa Malfoy had no idea what her husband was up too! Or that she has the same beliefs as her husband? Or that she won't flock to You-Know-Who's side the moment she can?"
Shacklebolt was silent for a few seconds. "You raise some fair points," he conceded. "But legally, we have no grounds to arrest them."
"Then find grounds!" Lockhart said. "You have the right to raid their homes?"
"We do," said Shacklebolt. "We have raided them many times—all dark items or illegal artifacts have been confiscated."
Lockhart changed tact. "Then arrest them on suspicion of aiding and abetting!" he said.
"We don't have the evidence …"
"We don't need the evidence!" Lockhart said. "Look—they are a threat. Surely you can admit that?"
Shacklebolt nodded slightly. "Some are," he said.
"And that they knew that their husbands and sons and daughters were Death Eaters?"
"They likely did," Shacklebolt said. "In some cases."
"Then we have grounds to strike."
"The law …"
Lockhart smiled. "I'm the Minister, Shacklebolt. I am the law. Don't you worry about a thing. Trust me, I know what the public want—they would love it. Absolutely love it to see us going on the offensive against You-Know-Who? Do you think they are going to care if a few laws were bent to put Death Eater supporters behind bars?"
Shacklebolt didn't reply.
"Of course they won't—now, I want to hear your recommendations for targets." Lockhart said.
Shacklebolt gave a small sigh. "I don't like this Minister, but if you insist—Narcissa Malfoy is known to be a supporter of the Dark Arts. But she keeps her nose clean-no illegal activity from what we can tell."
"Right,"
"Monica Crabbe has spent six months in Azkaban for hexing a muggle and has lobbied for lesser sentences for crimes against muggles and muggle borns."
"The Notts?" prompted Lockhart.
"Abaddon Nott is on the run with his son. No wife."
"Parents?" asked Lockhart.
"Cantankerous Nott—Abaddon's father. Author of the Pure-Blood Directory. No links to Death Eater activity, but on the Auror watch list as a possible supporter."
"Excellent," said Lockhart.
"Any more?"
"Miles Selwyn is on a watch list of suspected Death Eater activity, he is at large—there's no proof."
"Then bring him in! Any more?"
Shacklebolt gave a shake of his head. "The Aurors are stretched thin," he said. "I don't recommend hitting any more targets."
"Can we shift some from guard duty?" Lockhart asked.
"I don't recommend it," Shacklebolt said, stiffly. "You never know when You-Know-Who will strike. Aurors are needed at key locations to both prevent that and react quickly if there is an attack."
"Right … well, I suppose we will keep Madame Bones' defensive measures in place, for now. Now, I'll leave the operation in your hands—when can you get a strike team established?"
"Within the hour," said Shacklebolt.
"Do it," said Lockhart.
Albus Dumbledore
"I must admit I am disappointed," Albus Dumbledore said to Severus Snape. "I did not want that man to be Minister."
"Madame Bones' campaign was over as soon as the Dark Lord broke the prisoners out of Azkaban under her watch," said Severus Snape, harshly. "You should have put your support behind Arthur Weasley."
"I should," admitted Dumbledore. "I made a mistake. I thought we had secured Amelia enough votes but ..."
"The Wizengamot want action," said Snape. "Amelia Bones was too defensive. She wasn't wrong, but it isn't what the Wizengamot wanted to hear. And Lockhart has a way with words, idiotic and inept wizard though he might be."
"I just hope he has the sense to listen to those around him," said Dumbledore. "The one saving grace is that he is surrounded by competent witches and wizards who may be able to keep the Ministry from going under."
Gladys Gudgeon
Gladys let out a scream of delight when the result came through. Her budgie, which had been asleep in its cage awoke with a squawk. Her cat leapt into the air and hissed angrily. Gladys didn't care. Lockhart had won!
"He did it! I knew he would!" she shouted, her gray hair coming undone from its bun as she leapt up and down, as excited as a school girl. She hurried into her writing room where her desk was-she must send a letter off immediately!
Her writing room was a shrine to Lockhart. Moving photos of him adorned the walls-all of which were preening and smiling and winking and waving and combing their hair. There was a poster covering the door advertising the release of Magical Me. She even had a life-size cardboard cutout of Gilderoy Lockhart in the corner. On the bookshelf stood the first edition copies of every single one of Lockhart's works-all autographed. In pride of place, on the wall was a frame containing a lock of the great wizards hair.
She sat down on her desk and pulled out her quill-the exact same type that Lockhart himself used and began to write.
Augusta Longbottom
Augusta snorted as the results were announced. Lockhart ... fat chance of him taking decisive action against Voldemort. With Dumbledore dallying and the Ministry now under the control of a moron, Augusta felt that it was down to herself to make sure Voldemort paid for what he did.
The Death Eaters
"Lockhart! Taking over is going to be easy!" Amycus Carrow crowed.
"If it couldn't be Yaxley, he's the next best choice!" Thorfin Rowle said, guffawing
"I told you before, my lord, Gilderoy Lockhart is a fool, this makes our job easier," Malfoy said.
"Quiet!" Voldemort said. He didn't need to raise his voice. Just that one, quiet word was enough to silence the room. They had all gathered in the dining hall of Grimmauld Place to listen to the election results as they came through. He was displeased that Yaxley had lost—he would be punished for his failings. But at least Madame Bones had failed.
"You say Lockhart is a fool, and that may be true—but he has a knack for getting in the way."
"Or at least lying about it!" Alecto Carrow cackled.
"Crucio!" Voldemort snarled.
Her laughs turned into screams of pain. Many of the Death Eaters lowered their gaze or looked away, not wanting to be the next to feel his wrath.
After a few seconds, Voldemort lifted the spell, leaving the dumpy Alecto Carrow wheezing and gasping on the floor.
"Do not interrupt me," he said, dangerously. "As I was saying, Lockhart has a knack for getting in the way And, there are other threats …" he thought of the prophecy, then of Dumbledore. "We are going to hit the Order of the Phoenix first. I have managed to obtain the names and locations of a number of Order of the Phoenix members."
Voldemort drifted his gaze over at Severus Snape. His spy looked shocked. Severus had let him down—he had managed to supply just one address, that of Emmeline Vance. Pettigrew and Crouch Jr had supplied several.
"Rest well tonight," Voldemort said. "For tomorrow we strike."
As his Death Eaters cheered, Voldemort left the room, gesturing for Severus to follow.
"You are to return to Dumbledore," Voldemort said without preamble. "You are to inform him that I plan to strike at St. Mungo's in three days time,"
"My lord?"
"Tell him there is a wizard there I want out of the way," said Voldemort.
"Why?" asked Snape.
"Because I want the Order of the Phoenix to relax, thinking there is nothing to fear for a few days. I want them at home where we can hit them hard."
Dumbledore
Dumbledore had a problem. Things were moving fast since the election of Gilderoy Lockhart. Barely a day into his reign and Percy Weasley had informed him about Lockhart's plan to hit the houses of Death Eaters soon. That was a mistake, Dumbledore thought. All it would do is rile up the Death Eaters. And now, Severus Snape had returned with information that Voldemort planned to hit the Order of the Phoenix hard.
He paced around his office, thinking hard. He couldn't let the Order of the Phoenix fall, and yet, he couldn't afford to alert the rest of the Order—Voldemort would immediately suspect Snape for passing on the information.
The Weasley family were safe—they were in the Burrow which was protected by the fidelius charm. He could call McGonagall and Severus to the castle with him to discuss urgent Ministry business—that was a simple cover for getting them out of the way. He would advise Percy to work overtime with Minister Lockhart, he should be safe surrounded by Ministry workers.
He would personally warn Alastor Moody. He was one of Dumbledore's key lieutenants and, with a reputation for paranoia, Voldemort wouldn't be suspicious if he was prepared. Perhaps he could tell Alastor to have Sturgis Podmore and Arabella Figg over. That wouldn't raise any suspicion as they were working together to protect the Dursleys.
Hagrid was abroad. He was safe. As was Charlie Weasley. Bill and Fleur could stop at the Burrow.
Now there were the rest—Dedalus Diggle, Emmeline Vance, Elphias Doge, Mundungus Fletcher, Augusta and Algernon Longbottom and Hestia Jones.
Some he could assign guard duty where they would be safe, but some would have to fall, Dumbledore realized. He had already planned to sacrifice Emmeline Vance for the greater good—but now, more would need to pay the highest price. He could not afford for Severus Snape's veil to slip. It was imperative that he be as close to Voldemort as possible. Dumbledore needed eyes and ears in Voldemort's camps and, unfortunately, some would need to die to ensure that. Some would need to give their lives for the greater good.
Even more pressing, it seemed there was another spy among them. But who? He went through the Order of the Phoenix members-Minerva, Severus and Rubeus were loyal. None of the Weasleys would betray their family. Alastor had spent his life dedicated to fighting the Dark Arts/ Doge was his best friend. He made a note to keep a close watch on some of the members he knew less well-Sturgis Podmore, Mundungus Fletcher and Hestia Jones. Of course, it would always be somebody under the imperius curse. But a new spy was troubling news indeed. He would have to make sure to keep his Hogwarts office fully secure and only discuss certain things with Severus and Alastor there.
Lockhart and Umbridge
Lockhart looked up from his desk, he had just finished answering his fan mail and was feeling very satisfied. His first day was going swimmingly. He had hired Percy Weasley, made Kingsley Shacklebolt the new permanent Head Auror, put in place a plan to strike back at Voldemort and had now finished his fan mail. He had also heard from Weasley that Amadeus Parkinson would arrive tomorrow to do a portrait and his personal items would be arriving soon so he could decorate his office.
"Come in!" he said, cheerfully as there came a knock at the door.
It opened to reveal the short, squat, frog-like form of Dolores Umbridge.
Lockhart caught himself from frowning just in time. He didn't like that woman.
"I came to congratulate you on your victory, Minister," she simpered, her voice cutting through Lockhart's bones.
"Thank you, Dolores," he said, giving her his best fake smile.
"I was wondering if you would consider any of my proposals?"
Lockhart hadn't glanced at any of his paperwork. He assumed Umbridge's proposals were in there.
"Which one, exactly?"
"About bringing Hogwarts under Ministry control. I made it clear in my report that there are serious failings at Hogwarts. Not only with security but also staff hirings and the curriculum. I think the school would provide a much better standard of education if the Minstry was holding Dumbledore's leash."
"I've had no problem with Albus Dumbledore's running of the school," Lockhart said. This, as it happened, was true. He did actually respect Dumbledore a lot.
Umbridge's smile faltered, and she quickly fixed it back on her pudgy face. "Then, have you looked at my second file? As I'm sure you know, Minister, Dumbledore has yet to employ a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher—possibly the most important subject in these dark times."
"Quite," said Lockhart, agreeing with her.
"… well, under my proposal, if Dumbledore can't hire a teacher then the Ministry should step in and …"
"That makes sense," Lockhart said, a sudden idea coming to him.
"I'm glad you agree, Minister," said Umbridge. "And I have a suggestion—what the students need is firm guidance from a Ministry-approved curriculum focusing on theory and …"
"… and I have an idea!" Lockhart interrupted. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Dolores—would you kindly send word that Shacklebolt return to my office."
"Shacklebolt is preparing the Aurors," Umbridge said, a little stiffly.
"Oh … well, I suppose it can wait. Yes … yes … actually, the papers tomorrow will be full with my great victory. Better to implement my new idea after! I'm sure people will love it. Trust me, Dolores—this is going to revolutionize the entire Defence Against the Dark Arts subject! Better yet-I may keep the news as the surprise until my new pick for the class takes charge. Yes-that will get the most attention I'm sure."