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HP: Bloodraven Chapter 166 - What Was Stolen (V)
🕑 Added 2025-05-18 18:34:09 +0000 UTCHogwarts.
The day began with snow drifting softly under a dull gray sky. Cold winds swept across the castle, brushing the glass panes and swirling through the courtyards. By the time breakfast rolled around, the windows were fogged with chill and the whole school lay quiet beneath a soft, white blanket.
Inside the castle, though, it was pleasantly warm and cozy. Students and teachers gathered in the Great Hall for breakfast like any other day, but the midterm exams had stolen the usual buzz of chatter and clatter and replaced it with a low hum of tension.
However, not everyone seemed caught up in the tension. Down near the middle of the Slytherin long table, two second-year witches sat huddled together, whispering like they knew something the rest of the castle didn’t—or maybe they actually did, judging by the way their eyes kept flicking toward the staff table like they knew exactly what was going on.
"Just look at him," one of them muttered under her breath, nudging the other and nodding toward the flamboyant figure at the staff table. “He can’t take two bites without showing off every single tooth. Even his eating looks fake. Honestly, how hasn’t Dumbledore noticed yet?”
Daphne gave Tracy’s shin a quick nudge under the table. “Keep it down,” she whispered. “Remember, we’re not supposed to know anything…”
It wasn’t just them who had grown tired of Lockhart by now, and many other students had more or less figured out that the man was a complete fool.
Once or twice, a failed spell or a straight-up wrong spell might be arguable, but when it kept happening repeatedly, even the biggest fans had to admit something was off—unless they had something very wrong with their heads.
It was now unspokenly agreed among all the students that Lockhart either lied or wildly exaggerated his adventures in the books. That was the only way to make sense of the guy.
What they didn’t know was that this fraud was more than just a con artist. He was dangerous, someone whose actions, whether on purpose or not, had caused deaths. The worst part was that he was hiding in plain sight, right under their noses.
Until today.
Halfway through breakfast, a sudden swarm of delivery owls burst into the Great Hall, tearing through the air like a storm cracking open the sky.
Each bird carried a rolled-up newspaper clutched in its talons or beak. Gasps and yelps followed as they swooped low, dropping their deliveries onto the long tables and even the staff table, without the slightest care for whether they landed in a lap, on a head, or in a plate of food.
“Hey, watch it—”
“What in Merlin’s name is wrong with these stupid birds?”
“Whose idea of a sick prank is this?”
The usually calm hall exploded into a mix of shouts, curses, and flailing limbs. But that didn’t stop anyone from grabbing the papers dropped on their heads or into their food. And once they actually looked at what had arrived, it was as if a switch had been flipped—the ruckus came to an abrupt halt.
One moment it seemed there would be chaos, and the next moment the hall fell into complete silence.
Tracey picked up a stack that had landed near them and quickly unrolled it. Daphne leaned closer. Together, they read the headline printed in bold black ink:
"Decades of Deceit: Gilderoy Lockhart’s Web of Lies Exposed!"
Tracey blinked and turned to her friend. “Did your father set this up?”
Daphne didn’t answer right away. Yes, her father had asked her to give a discreet interview to a Daily Prophet journalist the day before. The headline didn’t surprise her—she had expected something like this.
But a full-blown owl invasion, with newspapers raining down all over the school, was definitely not what she had imagined. And her father hadn’t said a word about it.
A flicker of annoyance crossed her face. She hated being left out of the loop. But just as quickly, her cool mask returned.
“Doesn’t matter,” she said. Then, a small smirk tugged at her lips as she met Tracey’s gaze. “Let’s see what he does next. The professors are reading too,” she added, nodding toward the staff table.
There, they saw Professor Caesar handing the man a copy of the newspaper, and Daphne could clearly see the amused smirk on the professor’s lips, like he was looking at a clueless fool.
---
THIS IS SLANDER!
WHO DID THIS? WHOSE IDEA IS IT?
The silence in the hall was suddenly broken by the loud yell of the man himself, who had jumped to his feet, clutching the newspaper in both hands, eyes wide and frantic—as if he were staring down a Dementor.
All eyes were now on him. Even the professors were sneaking glances, watching as the man stood there looking shaken—like his entire world was about to crumble.
Lockhart was a man who lived for attention, and on any other day, for any other reason, he’d be flashing every tooth in his polished grin. But today, with the entire school staring at him, he wanted nothing more than to disappear.
Stop!
STOP!
He shouted, spinning around with wild eyes, panicked by the sea of stares locked onto him.
His face looked pale, with clear panic that could not be concealed in his eyes, and he had completely lost his former elegance.
"Listen, these are all made up..." he tried to come up with an explanation, first glancing at the professors.
"You don’t need to worry at all!" It wasn’t clear whether he was trying to convince himself or the others.
And seeing that not a single face looked like they believed a word he said, his mind immediately made up what he needed to do next.
I have to get out of here first.
Just as he shoved the chair back with his foot, ready to make a quick exit, Dumbledore’s calm voice cut through the tension.
“Gilderoy, might I ask you to be seated a moment longer? You still have half your porridge untouched.”
But Lockhart didn’t listen to a word and was ready to bolt. Unfortunately, just as he took the first step down the sloped stage, he saw the students all rising at once. Like a well-rehearsed wall, they lined up shoulder to shoulder, blocking every path with no way through.
Lockhart glanced from side to side, beads of sweat dripping down his face. He forced the biggest smile he could manage, trying to persuade them. "Child—children... what are you doing? I am a professor."
“Where are you going then, professor?” A voice called out from the crowd.
“Yeah, professor. Why are you in such a hurry?”
“Hey Lockhart, care to explain what’s all this writing about you?”
Voices of different students came to him from the crowd, and it seemed there was no way for him to pass through by asking nicely. So he tried to persuade them again.
“It’s lies, I tell you. Lies!” he said loudly. “Someone is smearing my name—most likely out of jealousy.
I, Gilderoy Lockhart, recipient of the Order of Merlin, Third Class, and honorary member of the Society Against Dark Arts, will never be afraid of these challenges!”
“You’ll see. I will make that slanderous newspaper apologize to me publicly. Ha! I will never be afraid of these schemes.”
“So please, the sooner I leave, the sooner I can clear my name and return to teaching you the best defenses against the Dark Arts.”
The young witches and wizards fell silent for a moment after hearing his arguments, but none of them budged.
“Professor Lockhart?”
A voice suddenly came from behind him, drawing all the students’ attention. Professor McGonagall approached and looked at Lockhart with an unreadable expression on her face.
If it had been any other day or any other person, she would have given the benefit of the doubt. But in this case, she had her own suspicions, and now, after seeing the article, she was already halfway convinced it might be true.
“I hope you’ll at least explain things to Principal Dumbledore and me before you take off and do whatever it is you have in mind. And it’s been a while since we’ve wanted to have a proper talk with you.”
Lockhart looked embarrassed, panicked, and frightened all at once as he met the stern gaze of the deputy principal. He knew there was no way he could just walk away, so he finally decided to go along.
"Okay! I admit I’m being a bit impatient. You know, I’ve never been slandered in a newspaper like this in my entire life… so I just got a little restless."
Thinking it might at least spare him from the hundreds of scrutinizing gazes from the students, and believing it wouldn’t take long to “explain” himself to Dumbledore, he continued, “The Principal’s office is on the eighth floor, right? Please lead the way.”
“Very well,” said McGonagall, nodding before glancing at the crowd of students. “Please return to your seats. This matter will be handled by the school staff and the board alone.”
“But Professor... that fraud hasn’t taught us anything in six months. We’ve wasted half a year because of him, so we deserve an explanation too...”
A witch’s voice rose from the side, challenging her order. It wasn’t every day someone dared to argue with her directly, so everyone glanced in that direction—only to see a second-year Slytherin. It was the daring little witch Tracey, of course.
“Miss Davis, I assure you there will be an explanation. And until proven guilty, I suggest you do not address Professor Lockhart as a fraud.”
Tracy only tsked, saying nothing more. She was daring, yes, but not stupid enough to continue arguing with her.
Lockhart had no choice but to return to his seat, and McGonagall didn’t seem to be in any hurry to take him to Dumbledore’s office either. She sat back down as well, and an awkward silence settled over the staff table while they continued with their breakfast.
The students also returned to their seats and sat down again, but just moments later, the large oak doors of the hall suddenly flung open, drawing everyone’s attention that way.
Argus Filch walked in, boots dragging noisily across the floor, and he wasn’t alone. Behind him came a woman in formal robes, followed by three men in Ministry Auror uniforms.
Whispers spread among the students as they recognized who it was, and most quickly guessed the purpose of the party’s visit.
“Merlin’s beard…”
“That’s Amelia Bones.”
“The witch who doesn’t give face to anyone?”
“You know, this all looks like a preemptive move against Lockhart.”
“Who cares if someone’s pulling strings behind the scenes... as long as the fraud gets what he deserves.”
All eyes followed them as they marched forward and came to a stop near the raised staff platform.
Amelia Bones swept her gaze across the professors, pausing for a brief moment on Maverick—though her face gave nothing away—before finally settling on Lockhart, who now had lost all color from his face.
“Gilderoy Lockhart,” she began, her voice firm and loud enough for the entire hall to hear. “By order of the Director of Magical Law Enforcement of the Ministry of Magic, you are hereby placed under arrest for interrogation regarding charges of multiple counts of murder, use of internationally banned forbidden spells on civilians, and large-scale public deception.”
Her voice rang out clearly across the hall, and loud enough for every ear to catch. Once again, the space fell into a pin-drop silence. This time, however, the shock was unmistakable on every face. After all, this wasn’t a minor prank or petty con being mentioned—it was murder.
"Arrest him!"
The order echoed through the hall like a tolling bell.
"No! You can't do this!" Lockhart sprang to his feet with panic visible all over his face.
His eyes darted frantically around the hall, searching for an escape that wasn’t there. The fame he had so carefully built over the years — through charm, lies, and stolen stories — had suddenly become his worst nightmare.
"I am Gilderoy Lockhart!" he shouted frantically at the Aurors closing in from the left and right sides of the table.
"Please! This is a mistake!" The shouting quickly turned into pleading as he stepped backward toward the edge of the stage.
Amelia also walked around the table, approaching the man who now stood like a cornered rat. The students, as well as the professors, had all turned to watch the scene unfold — and none of them, not even Dumbledore, made a move to intervene.
The old wizard’s eyes flicked to Maverick now and then, watching the young professor sip from his goblet as if enjoying a well-scripted play. Dumbledore guessed this was all his doing—or at least had something to do with him—which was exactly why he chose to remain a bystander and let it unfold.
The three Aurors closed in on Lockhart from the front, right, and left.
"You will come with us peacefully," they said, reaching to grab him. But then the fraud did the most stupid thing he possibly could in that situation.
He grabbed his wand from the holster and pointed it, darting it between the three of them.
“Get away! I am Gilderoy Lockhart. I am Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin...”
He shouted frantically, as if his name were some kind of spell that could magically make people listen to him.
The Aurors also took a half step back, pinning their wands on him.
For the students, this was probably the most entertaining thing to happen within these walls all year. After all, it wasn’t every day they got to witness Aurors in action making an arrest.
Amelia Bones stepped forward. "You will come with us peacefully. If you have the faintest shred of sanity left, lower your wand."
"No! I am being set up! You’re all setting m—"
"Expelliarmus!"
The Auror on the right suddenly fired the disarming spell as the fraud yelled hysterically. The spell hit him cleanly, and without any chance to counter, the wand flew from his hand.
“Arhhh!”
Lockhart let out a wail, clutching his burning palm in agony.
He stared at them defiantly, but it was no use. The Aurors grabbed his arms from right and left, and Amelia Bones personally fastened the magical cuffs on him.
“Mr. Lockhart, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the wizarding court of law.”
Roar!
The hall suddenly erupted into cheers and celebratory screams, catching the Ministry staff momentarily off guard. They had expected the students to be frightened by the brief confrontation, but instead, they saw the opposite happen.
The students seemed more than pleased—practically thrilled—to watch the flamboyant fraud finally confronted and taken away like this.
“Pray, Lady Bones, might I suggest that next occasion warrants a courtesy notice to the school? Such matters, handled before the students’ eyes, are most regrettable,” Dumbledore said as he approached her. His tone was calm, but clearly showing he wasn’t pleased with how things had played out. Indeed, he would have much preferred this all happen away from the eyes of the students.
“Headmaster, this comes as a direct order from Minister Fudge himself. I was instructed to delay no further and to take him into custody at once, wherever he might be found.”
“Cornelius, I see,” Dumbledore said thoughtfully, then after a pause added, “Very well. Now that your task is complete, I kindly ask that you take your leave. It is the time of midterm exams, and I would prefer nothing to disturb their schedule.”
“Gladly,” Lady Bones said with a crisp nod, then without another word, she strode back the way they came—only this time, dragging an extra passenger shackled and powerless behind them.
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Author's Note:
I didn’t want to drag this out, so apologies if it felt rushed. In the next chapter, there will be some public reactions, and then finally, the end of the year.
Some Marvel elements will be introduced during the Christmas break, and I can’t wait to share the finished content with you.
Cheers,
Thank you so much for your support... 😊😊
