𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗼𝘆 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗱 | 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿

Gryffindor's Sword & The Dark Lord

CHAPTER NINE:

Third Person P.O.V.:

Darkness was falling as they walked down to Lockhart's office. There seemed to be a lot of activity going on inside it. They could hear scraping, thumps, and hurried footsteps.

Charlie knocked twice and suddenly, there was nothing to be heard on the other side of the door.

Then, the door opened slightly and one of Lockhart's eyes peeked through the opening, "Oh — Mr. Hawthorne — Mr. Potter — Mr. Weasley —"

Gilderoy shook his head slightly as he opened the door wider, "I'm rather busy at the moment..."

"It'll only take a minute, Professor," Harry explained as the author tried to close the door, "We've got some information that we think will help you."

The side of Lockhart's face that Charlie could see looked very uncomfortable, "I mean — w-well — alright."

Professor Lockhart opened the door completely, and Ron, Harry, Charlie walked in reluctantly. His office was almost completely empty. Robes of every colour had been hastily folded into a trunk while the other one seemed to filled the brim of books and photographs that were once on the wall.

Charlie scoffed as he took in the sight, "Are you going somewhere, Professor?"

"Er, well, yes," Lockhart said hastily as he tore more photos of himself off of the wall, "Urgent call — unavoidable — got to go —"

"What about my sister?!" screamed Ron.

"Well, as to that — most unfortunate — " said Lockhart, avoiding their eyes as he wrenched open a drawer and started emptying the contents into a bag. "No one regrets more than I — "

Charlie was taken aback, "'Most unfortunate?' You're joking, right?!"

"You're the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher!" said Harry angrily, "You can't go now!"

"Well — I must say — when I took the job — " Lockhart muttered, now piling socks on top of his robes. "Nothing in the job description — said anything about — "

"You mean you're running away?" said Harry disbelievingly. "After all that stuff you did in your books — "

"Books can be misleading," said Lockhart delicately.

"You wrote them!" Charlie shouted.

"My dear boy," said Lockhart, straightening up and frowning at Charlie. "Do use your common sense? My books wouldn't have sold half as well if people didn't think I'd done all those things."

The three boys looked at one another in complete disbelief. They knew Lockhart was a cocky prat, but they didn't seriously believe he was capable of leaving them when they needed him most. He was still their teacher.

"You're a fraud," Charlie spat, "You've just been taking credit for what other wizards have done! How do you live with yourself knowing that you make a fortune off of other people?!"

Ron was aghast, "Is there anything you can do?"

"Yes," Lockhart said with a newfound confidence, "Now that you mention it, I'm rather gifted with memory charms. Otherwise, all those wizards would have gone blabbing and I'd never had sold another book —"

He then moved towards his trunk and reached for something. The three boys looked at one another. They all knew what he was going to do.