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6
Lockhart On Trial
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Lucius Malfoy, Lord of the Noble (and "Sacred", not that he cared for that list much) House of Malfoy, could remember with exacting clarity each of the three times his world-view was changed.
The first was, admittedly, a faded conversation/argument with his then-fiancé, Narcissa Black, on the values and goals of the Dark Lord's movement; forced he was to admit, if in hindsight, his future wife had many good points – mainly in that moving to France would've been a good idea – but by then Lucius had been in too deep with the younger Knights of Walpurgis, who would become the "Death Eaters", to easily escape.
If he'd known that would be the name the Dark Lord was going to saddle the Knights with, he would've taken Narcissa and ran as far away as possible… but, again, that was hindsight talking. He knew then, and knew now, that Bellatrix would've hunted them down inside a month, no matter how far they ran.
The second time his view of life changed was when his son, Draco, was born. It was when he held his son, heard his first cries and gurgles, that Lucius Malfoy, now Lord of his House, found something more important than the cause he'd been fighting and bleeding for. It was then the first ideas of rebellion entered into his thoughts…
Because like fuck he was going to let his son come anywhere near that… that madman of a Dark Lord.
Oh, certainly, most of the upper echelons of the Death Eaters were – mostly – fine fellows, ignoring their eccentricities when it came to the Mud People, but that was one matter. Forcing Bellatrix into a Blood Fealty Oath with her husband, thereby driving her actually insane instead of just fanatically devoted to her family, was another matter entirely, one Lucius really didn't like; mostly because it made talking to Bellatrix impossible, even for Narcissa, who was distraught after seeing what her sister had become.
That wasn't even counting how Voldemort hired that lout Greyback, of all beings… or all the inferi.
Lucius could stomach quite a bit, but that tier of necromancy was crossing a line even the Dark Mark couldn't blur.
But then the Dark Lord was killed, and Lucius' potential enemies amongst the Death Eaters were either killed, imprisoned, or fled the country. The remainder who were either useful to him or witty enough to avoid trials rallied to Lucius, and he – unlike the Dark Lord – used their political status to place himself at the Minister's right hand, ostensibly as Senior Advisor to the Wizengamot.
So the next decade passed in relative-if-cool peace, Lucius trying his hardest to put the Dark Lord from his mind and forge a way forward, create a Magical Britain his son would eventually be proud to inherit. It was slow going, mostly because of that fossil Dumbledore and his cronies, but progress was being made, little by little.
And then Lenore Black awoke, victorious against one of Them Under Stones, and walked the world once more.
She wasn't attractive; slender, broad-shouldered, her demeanor more akin to a mix between Bellatrix and Severus – Lucius suppressed a shudder at the mere idea of those two breeding – yet… that mood was tempered. Focused. Logical. Hunter Lenore wasn't like any Black he'd met in his life; there were similarities, yes, and the dark red hair was… rare, among her family, though certainly not unheard of. And, unlike quite a few bachelorettes her age in Britain, the Hunter was both as Pureblood as could be, being from an age before intermarrying became a necessity, and was also quite well-spoken and warm when the situation called for it…
But she held no love for the Dark; that was made quite clear when Lucius had the Hunter over for dinner. In fact, she knew he had served the Dark Lord – his Occulmency was nothing to someone whose job was killing Dark Lords and Class XXXXX threats – but believed him when he insisted such service wasn't entirely willing.
That was without Draco present, of course; that conversation was saved for after dinner, when the three adults, Lucius, Narcissa, and Lenore, retired for one of the better Malfoy Manor sitting rooms. It was a conversation that went from what life was like serving under the Dark Lord, to detailing what things were like in Magical Britain before the Statute was initiated.
It led to Lucius searching through the Lord's records in his office, trying to find if his family had any Squib lines that weren't purged; to his dismay, they had been slaughtered to a man back in the early 19th century, by a Lord Malfoy who wanted to "purify the bloodline".
While Lucius was proud of his heritage, some parts of it were, in hindsight, absolutely moronic.
Regardless, over dinner, the Hunter regaled the Malfoy family of her duel against Godelot, an edge-of-your-seat chase through the monster's fortress in the Spanish Alps involving a dozen Hunters, all hand-picked from their Order Masters, against horrors and abominations that left Lucius' son breathless from the retelling, all culminating in a battle on a moonlit rooftop, the Dark Lord Godelot, plus a summoned servitor of Them Outside, against the dozen battered but determined Hunters.
Being informed that she would become the next DADA Professor at Hogwarts was just icing on the cake, for Draco and, indeed, his parents.
Someone this competent handling the Defense side of things at Hogwarts? And she was not only staunchly neutral, but critical of Dumbledore's running of things? Much like in the case of Gilderoy Lockhart, Lucius couldn't have signed off on the employment contract fast enough. Two internationally-famous Magicals, both from good stock, teaching the future of Magical Britain how to defend themselves; what a coup! Even better, one of them would notice any up-and-coming Dark Lords and stamp them out before they could become a threat.
Narcissa was happy, Lucius was happy – because his allies and pawns were happy, seeing Hunter Black's employment as quite the feather in Britain's cap – and Draco was actually delighted to return to school, if only to make it to Fourth Year, when Hunter Lenore began teaching students.
And then…
Lucius had been talking with Lord Archibald Selwyn, of the Noble and Ancient House of same, in his Wizengamot office when the letter arrived from Hogwarts; the conversation had been about Archie's nephew Beauregard and whether or not he would be a good match for Lenore Black. The young man was a rising star in the Hit Wizard community, and was well-known for his chivalric demeanor; already there was talk of the younger Selwyn receiving an Order of Merlin 2nd Class for his part in a Nundu hunt back in mid-July. It could be a good match, and strengthen ties between House Black and Lucius' alliance; a few formal dinners might even change the minds of a few of the less stubborn Conservatives, what with Lenore knowing the ins and outs of real British Wizarding traditions…
Then Lucius got the letter from Hogwarts, sent by Severus in fact, and literally everything took second place to what he read.
This all led to the present session of the Wizengamot, where Lucius was trying his damndest not to lunge out of his seat, jump the rail and throttle Lockhart with the chains on the prisoner chair, with his bare hands if need be. Why?
Well, it had something to do with the little conniving bastard unleashing a whole swarm of pixies on the entire Second-year class.
As such, Lucius wasn't the only one trying to eviscerate the quivering blonde fop with their gaze alone.
Across the hall, Dame Longbottom was looking even more furious than when she'd heard of the attack on her son's family a decade ago, something Lucius didn't think possible; if she gripped that armrest any harder, Lucius feared it would splinter. Granted, Lord Greengrass seemed to be the only one holding Baron Davies back, the lesser member of the Neutral party actually shaking in clear rage at the mere sight of Lockhart. Though, Lucius understood why; he'd talked with Draco yesterday at Hogsmede, and commended his son for saving the life of a classmate. While it was a shame such measures were needed in the first place, Lucius was damn proud of his son for keeping his head under fire, to the point of saving young Tracy's life after the poor girl's throat was slashed by a pixie.
'There. Think good thoughts, Lucius,' the Lord and nominal leader of the "Dark" bloc focused on his breathing, trying to look anywhere but at the chamber floor and the fool shaking therein, lets his blood pressure climb higher and he do something… well, not really regrettable, but highly illegal and in poor taste..
The Entrail Strangulation Curse wasn't really something one should cast outside situations of last resort.
"Proud of my boy as I am," Godfrey Goyle's whispered rumble behind Lucius distracted the Malfoy Lord from ideas of homicide, "if this little shit gets off on a technicality, I'll rip off his arms and beat him senseless with them."
"He won't," Lord Selwyn's reedy voice sliced through his fellow Lord's statement, dark eyes narrowed on Lockhart like a vulture examining a dying gazelle; the older wizard jerked his chin minutely at the High Seat, "Look at Madam Bones."
Lucius did- oh.
The leader of the DMLE was sitting perfectly still; eyes closed, hands clasped on her desk, nostrils flaring. To the untrained eye, she looked calm as ever. But no one who'd been on the Wizengamot for as long as Lucius could be fooled: Amelia Bones wanted blood, and was restraining herself with all her impressive willpower.
Given that her niece and named Heir had been in that classroom too, had fought against that horde of pixies…
"I'll be surprised if he doesn't get Azkaban," Lucius murmured, noting that Dumbledore and Fudge were also giving Lockhart less-than-friendly looks; only Umbridge seemed sympathetic, the disgusting cow, "Fifteen years, at least."
"We're not pushing for the Kiss? This fork-tongued little shit deserves that at least," Lord Nott sneered in the next row down, the troubled man's two "minders" – which were actually Mind-Slaved Muggle teenage girls – keeping the dangerously-insane man from jumping over the rail with soothing pats on the arms and a bowl of sweets.
'If only I could assassinate him without drawing suspicion or throwing this alliance into chaos,' Lucius mused wistfully, while Cadmus Crabbe replied, further down Nott's row.
"Too severe, unfortunately; he didn't kill anyone. Pretty sure Dame Longbottom wants him snogged, though," fair, Lucius could hear the woman's clipped voice over the murmurs of the rest of the Wizengamot, as she replied to one of Baron Fortescue's questions with a biting tone.
The door to the courtroom banged open, then, admitting Hunter Lenore Black, the prime witness of the trial. Her style of dress was still pre-Statute, a white ruff coming up to her chin… though the rest of her red/black/gold "dress" looked made for dueling, and not the friendly kind, either. That feathered cap was a nice touch, however.
It said a lot, how the entire Wizengamot could go silent in a moment; though, few were likely in the know enough to realize they were in the company of one who fought and killed one of Them Under Stones. Most likely, it was the rarity of seeing someone sporting two Order of Merlin First Class medals pinned to their vest.
"Apologies for my lateness, Wizengamot," the only Hunter in Britain – Lucius checked, thoroughly – bowed deeply in respect to the Minister, DMLE Head, and the Chief Warlock, "There was a scholastic matter I simply had to deal with before travelling to the Ministry."
"Quite alright, Hunter Black," Dumbledore assured her, light stress coloring his otherwise grandfatherly tone, "If you please, could you explain to this august council just why the pixies Mr. Lockhart unleashed at Hogwarts are considered Threat Class XXXX. I'm sure I speak for some in the audience when I say that this information is both alarming and confusing."
There were quite a few nods and mutters, followed by most looking at the Hunter expectantly. Lucius, too, was curious about the Cornish Pixie's sub-rating; he didn't exactly have time to research the matter, but then, Hunter Black was an expert in all forms of dangerous magical creatures, so the answer would hopefully be comprehensive enough to sate his curiosity?
Not that it'd matter in the end; whatever the case, Lockhart would be punished for daring to put Lucius' son at risk like that.
"Certainly, Chief Warlock," Lenore stood at ease, cleared her throat, and began to explain to them…
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Hermione tapped the page of the book she found – Infamous European Magical Accidents of the 15th Century by Various – in triumph, "This is it, girls: the Cornish Pixie Swarm of 1578, which lasted six days."
With her at a round study table in the library were, clockwise from her left, Tracey – just back from St Mungo's, her voice only a little hoarse, though her mood was just as bright and cheerful as ever – Daphne Greengrass, Millicent Bulstrode, Su LI, and Leanne Moon (a quiet Hufflepuff girl). They were Hermione's team in completing Professor Black's assignment on Cornish Pixies.
Millicent ("Call me Millie. You kept that pixie from taking my ear off.") approached Hermione at first, helping her get a book from a higher shelf. When the butch Slytherin girl mentioned Tracey was part of her group, and remembering Harry and Ron already had a homework team, Hermione decided to join her team, at Millie's invitation of course.
The Gryffindor witch was pleased with the organization the other girls had, before she joined; they even all had assigned roles! Hermione and Tracey, being the fastest readers, would find the information they needed, while Millie got the books they needed from high shelves – and provided snacks, discreetly of course. Su Li, who could write the quickest – much to Hermione's chagrin – would compose the first draft; the other girls would edit it, and Leanne, with the neatest handwriting, would make the final draft. And Daphne, with her honestly lovely voice, would do the presenting when they turned in their work.
The team – Hermione named it 'The Founder's Girls' in her head, and would pitch it to Tracey later – already had plenty on Cornish Pixie biology, life cycle, and use in Potion-making. Tracey even managed to find that the creatures were a delicacy in Northern Africa! All they needed was why Cornish Pixie Swarms were classed XXXX, as dangerous as a Hippogriff or Manticore.
Sure, they all had first-hand experience on just how dangerous the little blue monsters could be, when they swarmed, but why they were classed so high in the first place was a mystery. Until now.
"In 1567, a Dutch magical creature enthusiast, Claes Robbert, bought thirty breeding pairs of Cornish Pixies from a major farm in Wenford Bridge, and brought them to his property in the fields outside Someren, in the Netherlands," Hermione summarized from what she was reading, Su-Li's quill scratching like mad as the Gryffindor witch spoke, though she winced as she read ahead a little, "About ten years of more-or-less lucrative sales in the Potions market… ooh, that's gruesome."
"I can read it," Tracey volunteered.
"No, I've got it…" after a fortifying deep breath, Hermione went on, "The exact dates were hard to find, due to the lack of surviving records, but sometime in the summer of 1578, Mr. Robbert's pixie farm was raided, presumably by bandits looking for treasure. The man did indeed keep his gold on the property; from the evidence left behind, which was studied by the Department of International Magical Law Enforcement, it seems both the owner and his family were tortured severely for several days before the Swarm began.
"It appears that the pixies, which were kept in sex-segregated enclosures, had below-standard Wards for what they were holding. Mr. Robbert's practice seemed to be renewing the Wards on each enclosure every other day; and as a recent culling for Potions had taken place – evidenced by a large sale to Amsterdam just three weeks prior to the Swarm's beginning – the numbers were low enough to defy detection by the wizards and witches in the area, the bandits included. Additionally, this sale also meant no one suspected anything was wrong with the Robbert household; only Claes' grandmother, in Brussels, made inquiries to her local Auror office when her grandson didn't answer the Floo. She made enough of a noise that a small team of Hit-Wizards were sent to investigate ahead of Auror detectives."
"Bit of an overreaction, isn't it?" Daphne asked to the group.
"Well, apparently his grandmother is the one who helped him start the business, and apparently had a share in it, but I didn't think it was all that important to our project."
"Lemme guess," Millie grumbled, "She bribed them."
"Well, it's not like the history book would come out and say it," Hermione frowned, "but can we save debate for after? There's not much left."
"Go on," Su Li said, her attention not having wavered from Hermione the whole time; well, it wasn't that interesting a story, but it explained why Professor Black had been so angry with Lockhart.
With one more fortifying breath, she went on, "The Hit-Wizards deployed by the Dutch government were only gone for about an hour – the Robbert family had been out of contact for at least six days by then – when two of them returned to the base in Amsterdam; one succumbed to his wounds almost immediately, the Apparation proving too much for him. The other lived long enough, despite hundreds of lacerations and… missing eyes," the whole group gave a collective shiver, and Hermione was sure glad Lavender wasn't there, "…in spite of his wounds, Hit Wizard Ingimund Olso, a Danish national who transferred to the Netherlands two weeks prior, managed to warn the Dutch authorities about the Swarm; unknown to him, said Swarm, which had already, um, devoured the Robbert family and their assailants, along with most livestock in a three kilometer radius… the Cornish Pixies, having exhausted all food sources in the area, began to search for more to feed their young.
"Over the next four days, the Swarm travelled south-east, annihilating thousands of acres of farmland as it made its way toward the city of Dusseldorf, Germany. By the fourth day, the beating of the Swarm's wings could be heard from many kilometers away; also by this point, the Swarm was officially declared a moving disaster by the ICW, and therefore an international issue that required an immediate response.
"In less than twenty-four hours, thousands of witches and wizards from all over Europe gathered to face the threat outside Dusseldorf, a Cornish Pixie Swarm that numbered in the millions at least. The battle lasted nearly sixteen hours, and cost the lives of 1,344 witches and wizards, but, after another two months of searching by Hit-Wizards and Hunters of the Astral Clocktower," Hermione made a note to look that Hunter Order up, and finished, "the Swarm was declared eradicated to the least and last. Shortly afterward, Cornish Pixies were re-rated in the International Threat Index as XX individually, XXXX in numbers exceeding fifty but below a thousand, and XXXXX in numbers above that.
"In the case of the Swarm of 1578, a new threat class, the "O"-Threat Class, was created by the ICW to denote unique and extremely dangerous threats to mankind as a whole. The Swarm was rated OO, so that any repeating instance of such a disaster would warrant immediate and comprehensive Magical and Muggle support in snuffing it out; after the Statue was implemented, what Hunter Orders remained extant, particularly the Order of the Astral Clocktower, were warranted with ensuring no O-level threats ever trouble humanity ever again."
Sighing, Hermione shut the book, "That's all it says on the matter," she looked up…
Only Su-Li was still doing anything, tongue between her teeth as she kept writing. The other girls…
Leanne and Daphne both looked a little green, Tracy was oddly still, and Millie was staring at Hermione with wide eyes.
The large girl made to speak, paused, and finally said, "I think… we got enough?"
"More than," Su-Li said absently, not looking up from her parchment, "We should probably keep the loss of life intentionally vague, and only mention Hunter Orders in general; unless you found something on the one mentioned?" her eyes cut up to Hermione.
Who huffed and replied bitterly, "No. There doesn't seem to be anything in the library on Hunter Orders, beyond the odd historic mention."
"Probably in the restricted section," Tracy said off-handedly, though a little stiffly; maybe Hermione shouldn't have gone into such detail?
She shook her head anyway, saying brightly, "Even if it is, once Professor Black gets back and we do our presentation, I'll ask her about these Hunters of the Astral Clocktower. Anyway, should we look up Pixie farming or Magical Creature rearing? For completion's sake, of course…"
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"…while it is true that the incident at Hogwarts would never have escalated to the level of the 1578 Swarm, due to the comprehensive wards that alert senior staff, such as the House Heads and Headmaster, whenever a student is grievously harmed – indeed, the second and fourth years were intercepted by Professors Snape and Flitwick before getting halfway to the Hospital Wing – the fact remains that Mr. Lockhart purchased the Cornish Pixies involved, all 159 of them, without the appropriate paperwork or permits and subsequently brought them into a classroom setting; Pixies, ladies and gentlemen of the Wizengamot, that were not spayed or neutered as required by the ICW Department of Magical Education's laws governing dangerous magical creatures outside of a protected nature preserve, nevermind in a classroom, and that's just to start with…"
Albus watched – with no small amount of schadenfreude – as Lenore Black took a sip of water and mercilessly continued tearing poor Gilderoy's entire defense to tatters, though he noted she didn't say what he, the Headmaster, was doing at the time.
Namely, holding said Hunter back from using her nastier Hexes, making sure she didn't hurt Gilderoy too badly, while keeping his own temper in check – and he'd been rather tempted to lay into the fucking idiot himself, after hearing what happened to the Second Year class; were it not for his life experience, patience, and reputation, he might've left a few inches of the moron unburnt.
As it was, he settled for the bruised and squealing urine-scented terrified mess Lenore turned the fop into, in the span of just three minutes. Ah, catharsis.
In his tenure as Hogwarts Headmaster, there had been countless incidents where students were harmed in the course of their schooling; it was a simple fact of life, however, that magic cast improperly could and quite often would hurt someone in the vicinity. From blown-off fingers to… less palatable events during the War… Albus thought he'd seen it all.
Until Gilderoy – a bright Ravenclaw, if a little too egotistical for his own good – brought the current dilemma to a head, by doing something so completely stupid, even Albus' great patience was tested.
Oh, and he'd made an enemy of damn-near every influential Noble House in Britain, starting with the Abbots, Boneses and Blacks and ending with the Notts, Selwyns and that Zabini woman – the Italian Ambassador to Great Britain and someone who Albus never wanted to spend a lot of time with for… several reasons.
Just about every single one of them looked like they wanted to rip Gilderoy apart, and with every bylaw and precedent that left Lenore Black's mouth, Albus knew there was no redeeming the blonde man in powder blue robes, who, even though he was sweating something fierce, was still giving a pleasant smile.
His lawyer, on the other hand, looked like he wanted to run out of the courtroom as the Hunter kept going on…
"…situation had deteriorated to the point where I needed to cast a Class 4 area-of-effect battle spell, which interrupted the heartbeat of every Pixie it struck. While that particular spell has been illegal since 1820 here in Britain, it was far more effective than what Mr. Lockhart taught his class before subjecting them to a creature that, centuries ago, wiped out what was left of Ancient Houses Gawain and Hershel; that is, he taught them exactly nothing, and expected them to defend against a threat that has sent full-grown wizards and witches fleeing in terror…"
So far, going by Albus' notes, the Wizengamot had enough to put Gilderoy Lockhart in Azkaban, one floor above Tom's inner circle as a matter of fact. Endangerment of minors was just the start; with the amount of local and international laws he broke just by bringing over 150 Cornish Pixies into a classroom, nevermind one that contained the heirs of no less than ten Noble or Ancient Houses…
The old wizard hid a sigh; if no one started yelling for the Kiss, he would worry someone had dosed the Wizengamot with potions.
"…finally, my Lords and Ladies, I have also thoroughly examined Mr. Lockhart's wand, as per the request of Madame Bones," Albus thanked all his lucky stars Lenore and Margaret Thatcher would never meet; that iron tone of the Hunter's was too similar to the Iron Lady's for his taste. Even Gilderoy seemed terrified at last-
"After three days of careful study, including undoing a shoddy attempt to botch the wand's history, I've found that Mr. Lockhart does actually have a knack for a certain kind of magic: Memory Charms."
…the silence that followed this declaration was… intense.
"Elaborate, Ms. Black," Albus swore he could hear the gavel cracking in young Amelia's grip; on the other hand, Cornelius didn't look at all pleased either.
"The wand, which I have since submitted to the IDMLE for verification, seems unusually attuned to Memory magic in general, and the Class 4 variant of the Memory Erasure Charm in particular." No one really reacted, so the Hunter cleared her throat and added, "Or, the Memory Charm as it's called these days; I understand it's used on Mundanes who observe magic, or for extraordinary cases of trauma. Either way-"
She was briefly drowned out by a short uproar from both sides of the Wizengamot, which ended after Amelia shattered her gavel in a single blow against the mahogany desktop; the DMLE Head's voice, in contrast, was utterly calm.
"There will be order." The Bones matron's steely gaze swept over the Wizengamot, "I assure you all, justice will be served; but if there is another outburst like that, whoever's mouth is open after I call for order will be formally ejected from the court."
…it was in this moment, as even Lord Nott shrank back in his seat and fidgeted impotently… Albus decided to wait until Christmas before pitching the reinstatement of the Triwizard Tournament to the Ministry's Department Heads. Clearly, the return of an old and respected ally of House Bones had steeled the nerve of that family's Lady tenfold, and reduced her patience for eccentricity by about as much; this was fine, of course.
If Amelia was at the point of threatening formal ejection – meaning a Lord or Lady could be barred from voting or speaking at council for up to a year – then Albus could wait until she was in a better mood before making the pitch. Christmas would be better, certainly.
After she calmly healed her hand in the ringing silence that followed her words, Madame Bones addressed Lenore, who hadn't so much as winced, "Am I to assume, Professor Black, that the ICW will be taking over the investigation of this… man?"
"I can't say at this time, Madame Bones; once their investigation concludes, they will no doubt contact this Ministry to detail their findings."
"In that case, this governing body will ensure he's both held and punished, until that day arrives," Albus rumbled lowly, not even bothering with the grandfatherly persona he'd used in the past; honestly, he had expected incompetence from Gilderoy, but this… "Mr. Gibbs, does Mr. Lockhart want to change his Not Guilty plea?"
Another brief – and clearly heated – discussion behind a privacy ward later, Gilderoy started glaring at Lenore while his attorney, Mr. John Gibbs, answered in a clearly unsettled voice, "Against my council, no, Chief Warlock."
"In that case, due to the flight risk the defendant poses, and in light of the grievous nature of the pending charges, both local and international… Mr. Gilderoy Lockhart," Albus really hated when he had to make sentences like the one that was coming, usually, but the current occasion was… easier, knowing what his students had gone through.
"I put forward the motion that, until word arrives from Geneva, you will be held in the minimum security wing of Azkaban prison. And you had best hope the IDMLE finds no Oblivation of Hogwarts students, for your sake, young man," whatever protest was about to be voiced was choked off by Albus' glare and tone, which could easily freeze ice.
Once he had shrunk far enough in his seat that only part of his blond head was visible, Minister Fudge – unusually for the portly man – thundered, "All in favor of the motion?"
For once in his long life, Albus had the pleasure of seeing a unanimous decision of the Wizengamot.
If only that was the end of things…
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Lenore rather liked what Albus did with the Headmaster's office; with no more need for all the spindly silver knickknacks – magical sensors tied to Harry's person and relative's house, mainly – he'd put in some rather fascinating landscape tables.
The first that caught her eye was a scale model of Hogwarts, with Hogsmede, the Quidditch Pitch, part of the Forbidden Forest, and even the Black Lake were there represented; while not magical at all – the Unplottable Charm wouldn't allow such a thing – it was still a marvel to behold. Lenore could look into hallways and recognize the paintings displayed therein.
Sure, it was all Transmuted work (permanent Transfiguration), but it really said something about Albus Dumbledore's mind and magic, that he managed it all single-handedly.
Another table, but it was more like four large dining tables pushed together, had a working train set – Charmed, of course – with animals and people bustling about a town, farmland, and mountains as the trains snaked their way through hills and valleys. The puffs and sounds of nature emanating from the setup were… nicely relaxing; also very much in line with her estimation of Dumbledore's eccentricity.
She made a mental note to tell Sirius about it – he would likely want one, if only to set it up in his mother's old bedroom – and then the Hunter turned her gaze to the Headmaster, who was just putting a tea tray on his recently-cleared desk.
His outfit was much more subdued than usual – a Gryffindor red/gold robe that wasn't visually offensive – and, likewise, his expression was, while friendly, much less animated than she'd seen him use at mealtimes or in the hallways of the school.
It reminded her that the man, who she had initially thought a fool, was… like the First Hunter, Gherman; the real one, not the Dreamed caricature provided by the Moon Presence.
One man, trying to stop disaster after disaster from occurring, and everyone expected him to do everything while they sat on the sidelines and ate sweetmeats.
Taking her tea with customary thanks, as he did the same, neither witch or wizard bothered with smalltalk; they both knew the court case earlier, while resulting in a unanimous vote of Magical Britain's governing body, had not pleased everyone. Lenore knew her countrymen loved their independence, and giving over a bastard like Lockhart to the ICW would cause more than a few sets of teeth to grind.
She knew this, because she'd already heard it from Sirius – who hadn't been there because, in his own words, "I don't think I'll be able to keep myself from jumping the rail and ripping the fucker's throat out myself."
At least her Lord had some wisdom, under all the trauma and rabblerousing…
"…Lenore," Albus sounded tired, but also… worried, as he broke the silence, "Did he… take advantage of any of our students?"
"No." she answered immediately, setting her cup aside; while certain aspects of her examination of Lockhart's wand were classified even from Albus, she could tell him enough to set his mind at ease, "The last instance of him using an Obliviation was before term began. As that would be a civil case and therefore private, I submitted the details to Madame Bones so she might interview the victims at her leisure."
Albus raised an eyebrow, silently asking for an elaboration.
Lenore sighed, and hissed, "The man liked taking advantage of his fans' generosity; he erased the memory of a promise to two of them, after… well, an intimate encounter at a second-rate inn over in Orthogon Alley, which was brought about by said promise. There were more incidents along these lines, but that was the most recent on British soil. More than that, I can't say without making this conversation indecent or violating my oaths to the ICW."
The old – by the day's standards – wizard huffed, much like a manticore might before charging, "No wonder young Amelia was so incensed."
"I think that's more to do with what I told her earlier," Lenore admitted with a wince, "After so long out of contact with the world, I've been reading about how the Magical and Mundane worlds have progressed, particularly in the area of law enforcement."
Albus hummed agreeably, eyes twinkling merrily (how did he do that?), "Naturally, of course. I assume some of your findings might make their way to the Auror hopefuls?"
"And possibly the existing force, as I submitted a rough outline of where the DMLE is behind when compared to the Mundane constabulary to Madame Bones; she seemed… at once excited and dismayed; likely in the areas her department falls short, which isn't small in number."
"I think they're going by 'police' these days, but I certainly look forward to whatever changes come of it."
"That doesn't change the fact that Lockhart got an Order of Merlin entirely due to hearsay; yes, it was a Third Class, but even that standard was once only qualified if you were proven to have saved at least one life, usually at risk of your own," Lenore grumbled angrily, swirling her tea before downing it in a gulp. "The investigative qualities of today's Auror force are far below what they were, when we were still working with the Mundanes."
Lenore almost winced as Albus leveled a pitying gaze at her; she neither wanted nor needed his pity, especially in this matter. She was coping just fine, thank you very much.
"I… understand; or, I feel as though I do," Albus sighed and leaned back in his chair, "A hundred years; so much has changed, since I was a boy."
Lenore hummed with a nod before waving the topic off, "While it's… difficult, speaking with my Mind Healer helps."
"Yes, that does tend to help," Albus chuckled, "I understand Sirius and Harry are also attending?"
She didn't bother deigning that with a response, "What do you want, Albus?"
With a sigh, the elderly wizard smiled weakly, "Right to the core of things, then?"
Remembering the rat maze the corrupted Goddess made her run, Lenore gave a weak smirk of her own, "I find it best not to waste too much time beating around the bush, if it can be avoided."
"I agree. In that case, I won't mince words: I've called you here not because of Lockhart, but because of another former student of this school," Lenore raised an eyebrow as Albus folded his hands on his desk and leveled a stern gaze at her.
…it was, well, odd. She felt like the new recruits of the Silver Crescent must've, when they were sent to her office in the brief time between Godelot and the Schism.
"Tell me, Lenore: what do you know about Tom Marvolo Riddle?"