Mad Apothecarist

Valentine always seemed like a joke to me – and a magical one, organized by Lockhart, was even worse. Walls were covered in pink barf shaped like flowers and little heart-shaped confetti were getting stuck in my hair.

I sat amongst twins so I was covered at least from two sides. By back was un-guarded, but I hoped Luna or Hermione would tell me if a certain peacock was attacking me from behind.

Lockhart was wearing garish pink robes that had frills on the sleeves and on the bottom, his hair pampered more than usual and his teeth blinded me even from his distanced position. I took off my glasses to rub my eyes in pain. What a fucking eye-sore.

Severus and Minerva looked as disgusted as me – the old woman had a tick under her eye and the tall dark teacher had a murder in his eyes. Does that mean he will be more vicious in our murder plans? And would Minerva finally join?

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” Lockhart shouted. “And may I thank the forty-six people who have so far sent me cards! Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all — and it doesn’t end here!”

“Kill me, please, or take me to the depths of fiery hell so I can get away from this fucking hell…”

“Come on, little Raven, it can't be that bad,” George laughed nervously.

Lockhart clapped his hands and a dozen of dwarfs in golden winds, diapers and carrying harps came through the door. They looked as annoyed as I and many students – which is a feat.

“My friendly, card-carrying cupids!” beamed Lockhart. “They will be roving around the school today delivering your valentines! And the fun doesn’t stop here! I’m sure my colleagues will want to enter into the spirit of the occasion! Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion! And while you’re at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I’ve ever met, the sly old dog!”

At least Flitwick is going to suffer too. At first, he looked stoic, now he resembles my favourite potions teacher. His goblin blood makes it look almost wicked. I wonder how many people will have the balls to ask Severus for a Love Potion? He would probably give them poison with a venomous smile…

We got out of the Great Hall unscathed and I went to History with Hermione who was suspiciously silent. “Did you eat something bad?”

“No! Why would you think that?” I looked closer at her, narrowing my eyes.

“Did you sent Lockhart a Valentine?”

“NO! Why would I sent such an asshole a Valentine?” she got into my face, but I wasn't backing off.

“You were silent since he said he got forty-six.”

“It has nothing to do with that – it just made me think about mum and dad. We always gave valentines to each other,” she shrugged. Oh, so she was sad?

“We never celebrated it. Well, Fridrich and Marie always bring a horde of chocolates and cards home. However, dad and mum think it's a horrible holiday and say they have valentine's day the whole year. Sappy bullshit, if you ask me.”

“That's cute, not sappy. Say it with me – C-U-T-E!”

“F-U-C-K Y-O-U.” She rolled her eyes and snickered. “I hope it won't escalate as it usually did in the higher classes filled with already sexually active teens – they snogged in any available nook and cranny. I couldn't even take a piss without hearing an exchange of saliva,” I shivered and Hermione laughed out loud.

“I expected you would have this outlook, but it's still funny.”

“You're such a cunt-“

“Oi, you! ‘enry Bundy!” I stilled and slowly turned around to look at a small dwarf. “I have this for you,” he gave me a big bouquet of red roses intertwined with peacock feathers. “And this,” he gave me a card and box of chocolates.

“From who-“

“Can't tell! I have many gifts to give, so don't even try!“ And then he was gone. I couldn't even find the energy to curse him into an early grave.

I knew Lockhart sent me the roses – if Hermione was a little slower I would burn them. It would be such a nice fire that might serve as a torch that would burn down his office. The card was from someone else – ‚I wish you a nice Valentine, Henry. Hope you won't burn this!‘ (I couldn't recognise the writing so I put it in my pocket to examine later). And the expensive-looking box seemed to be from Lockhart but I couldn't ruin a box of unopened delight.

I shrank it so it fit in my coat pocket and ignored those flowers Hermione carried. „Do you know from whom it was?“ she asked.

“No idea.“

“Then why are you so angry? They are beautiful and I know you like flowers.”

“Not red roses,” I shrugged, although I knew she was well aware of my lie.

***

“Did you like my gift?” Why am I so stubborn and walk around alone? I turned around to face Lockhart. “I noticed you are not wearing the skirt I bought you. Such a lovely colour, it would make your eyes pop – just like blue does to me.” He came so close I started to back up. “Why haven't you worn it?“

“I left it at home,” I lied expertly. The truth is I burned it while cackling in an abandoned classroom where no one could find me. It made me feel better.

“Pitty – but if you want, I can buy you a new one,” he came so close I ran into a wall. It shocked me enough to take my breath away (in a bad, rushed way). “Better – maybe shorter.”

“I think it was really fucking short already,” I mumbled and tried to find an escape route, but came up with nothing. He is a horrible wizard but even he could shoot me down if I ran.

“And what about the roses and chocolate? I hear Miss Grander took them?”

“She likes flowers and especially roses, so I gave them to her.”

“Such a good boy,” he patted my head – I shied away from his touch but he took my chin and turned my face to face him. He was much stronger than myself. “You are starting to take my lessons to heart! You act so much kinder than you used to – after a little glow up you would be fit for your position as the boy-who-lived.”

“If you say so,” I tried to push him away without my magic but he wasn't moving. He was one of those people who have muscle so I could only feel his pectorals.

“I see you tried my chocolates,” he ducked down to my height level and breathed into my face. He smelled like mint and citrus with undertones of basic skin-care stench.

“What the fuck-“

He kissed me. Like, on the mouth. My eyes almost fell out of my head in shock and for a moment I obviously forgot I'm a wizard because I tried to get him off of me using my fists that hit his chest repeatedly. But only for a second or two – then my magic reacted and pushed him back so strongly I heard a loud bang. I didn't even LOOK at him before sprinting away and hiding in a girls bathroom where no one would look for me.

Angry tears streamed down my face – how dare he? Not only am I his student, but minor too! (Why me? I'm not pretty, handsome or anything.)

I heard hissing that usually could be heard around here so I wasn't even reacting – until it was really close and I could understand it – today it wasn't singing about ripping and killing.

„Is hatchling alright?“

„'m fine,“ I hissed back and looked around. „Where are you hiding?“

„In the water-pipesss. Hisssss OPEN at the sssnake-ssshaped faucet, it will ssshow you where I hide.“ I stood up, rubbed salty water from my cheeks and walked around all sinks before I found the correct one.

„Open,“ I hissed at it. It started to move and after a minute there was a hole leading to god-knows-where. „Are you there?“

„Yes, speaker. I will shield my eyes, so no worry – you can look at me.“ Yellow eyes cut through the darkness of the pipe and the big snake partially slithered out, into the bathroom. I could see it showed me only a small portion of its body.  

„Are you the so-called Slytherin Monster?“ I asked rudely. But I needed to know.

„Yes, but originally I wasss called the Protector of Hogwartsss, Sssoteria,“ she bowed her giant head. „I felt the young heir was in dissstresssss, ssso I came to help you.“

“Fucking hell,” I muttered. “I don't need help, Sssoteria. I can take care of this myself.“ I got an idea. „Yes – myself. Do you know a spell that can extract memories?“

“I don't, but there might be something in my father's personal study.“

Slytherin's study? „Take me there. Errr, please.“

„No problem, young heir. It's your legacy, after all.“

She slithered down called at me that I have free passage – so I slid down to her. She was moving on old bones and shed skin so I vanished the junk. „Thank you, young heir.“

„It was disgustingly messy – even for me and I had a rotting mouse in my room for days.“

„Why haven't you eaten it?”

“I'm afraid I couldn't stomach that – humans have a lot weaker stomachs in comparison to snakes.”

“Poor thing,” she hissed and almost tripped me when she curled her big tail around my legs in what I can only describe as a hug. I petted her, mostly because that was the only thing I could think about. She was soft and cool like silk – I might enjoy her ‘hugs’, especially tomorrow when it will be three days since I slept the last time. Oh well, though for later (little cleaning and this might be the third best place for a nap in the castle).

We went through a round door she barely fit and then I became her maid – everything was wet, decaying or covered in plants so I cleaned and cleaned and cleaned. Only after that could I get into a hidden door that was just minutes ago partially submerged in water and covered by leaves. 

But it was worth it. There was a study room filled with shelves that were completely stuffed with old books. Some were bound in leather, some had desks made out of wood – and some were just sewn pages. I inhaled the smell of old paper. I was in heaven – but there was no time to dally around. Soteria told me that if I said in Paranseltongue what type of book I needed the library would give it to me if it had it. So I asked and five books flew over to a dusty table. I cleaned it, sat on one of the creakiest chairs I ever encountered, lit up a cigarette and got to work.

Lockhart's don't catch themselves.

***

I emerged from the Chamber after hours upon hours of reading, exhausted. A leather-bound book laid close to the entrance – my nosiness wouldn't let me leave it there so I hid it in one of my pockets and went to the Headmasters office. My memories of every weird encounter with the asshole in a potion-bottle.

Tempus showed me that it was already after dinner - let's hope the old man is as horrible as my father who cannot go to sleep before midnight. I'm not willing to wait until tomorrow, I already missed enough classes today. I jogged through the halls, ducked to hidden alcoves or passages when I heard someone and after too long I finally arrived. Twins told me that Headmaster has a weird fascination with sweets because he uses their names as password all the time (and they would know, not just once did their prank get them to meet the old man).

I wonder why nobody ever suspects me of being part of those...

“…sugar quill, pumpkin pie, sherbet lemon-“ griffin statue guarding the office I was trying to get to jumped to the side and I could run up the stairs. I wanted to just burst in but then I remembered that people usually help people more easily if they are… nice. I want to gag over that word but I knocked nonetheless.

“Come, come!” jovial male voice let me in and before I could grab the door-handle, they opened on their own. “Henry, how can I help you?”

I froze for a minute (old habits die hard I guess) but after a deep breathe-in, I looked him in the eyes that (like mine) sometimes shone with magical bursts. Especially when a chair moved so I had better access to it. “Do you know that Lockhart for some reason too liking to me?”

“Yes, it's a widely known fact.” His shoulders straightened and the small smile hidden under his white moustache disappeared. “What happened, Henry?”

“He is always weird around me. He favourited me in classes since the beginning but most teachers do like me so that was partially ok – just my hate for the lier fucked his chances to get on my good side. Then he started to give me detentions for fucking stupid fucking reasons and tried to ‘teach me how to be a bloody fucking celebrity’. I said no but he was even more annoying, even after many warnings ending with his head hitting the stone.” How should I put the rest? How to say-

“Would you like some tea? Maybe even lemon drop?”

“If you have earl grey then sure.” I am quite parched after many hours of research than often took the wrong turn and I forgot myself in a potion diary or ten. In a blink of an eye, there was a mug with steaming tea. “Thanks,” I said into the air – twins took me to the kitchens numerous times so I know elves went mad (in a good way) after praise.

“I see you know about our elf staff,” he smiled, amused. There was still something hard in his face. “Would you be so kind and finish your story?”

I tried to, but the words ‘Lockhart is either a pedophile or power-hungry with a fetish for celebrities’ just wouldn't go across my tongue. “I extracted my memories of those accidents, headmaster. Will it be sufficient?” The shock on his face was nice, I can deal with that.

“Where did you learn that?”

“In a book, moron,” I sneered and sipped some tea. “It was decently easy to do as I have perfect memory and can pull on memories without an issue. Similar to a Master of Occlumency, but it's fully natural and without training.” I pulled out the bottle. “They have the right colour and consistency so they are in perfect condition.” Old hands brushed over mine for a second but I shied back away from him after he held my memories in a secure grip.

“I will check over them – would you like to assist me so you can check if there are no mistakes?”

“I don't do mistakes – and my curfew is nearing, so…” I tried to smile widely. I was forced to remember them in disturbing detail just an hour before – nothing could make me do that again.

“Then go sleep,” He sighed after a staring-battle. “Come here tomorrow after classes. Do I have your consent to show it to someone else or authorities?”

“You can show it to Minerva or Severus. And authorities – but don't drag my parents into this, it's nothing they have to stress about now. I will tell them myself.”

“Sure. Have a nice sleep, Henry.” He smiled widely and waved when I quickly exited.

I did it.

…

Bloody hell, I did it.

Well, I know there is no chance of sleeping today after that…

***

Minerva wasn't having a good morning. Her coffee wasn't strong enough, there was nothing on the table that sparked her appetite during the breakfast and then she was called to Dumbledore's office. The only thing that elated her mood was how much worse for wear looked Severus who was many things – but not a morning bird. They stood beside each other in front of the headmaster's desk, nervous because of the sad look the old man was sporting on his usually cheerful face.

“Why did you call us so soon in the morning?” Severus finally snapped. “We have classes, you know?”

“And both of the rooms have a letter on the doors telling your students they have a free period. I was trusted yesterday with information and you were the two teachers that were allowed to know this too. Before I say anything – I won the bet!” he smiled but his eyes told another story.

“Is it something with Henry?” After all, there was no other student that trusted Severus AND Minerva.

“Let me show you his memories fist – it will be faster.”

“He let you roam in his head to extract them?” Asked the surprised animagus.

“He learned how to do it himself – and did an extraordinary job like he usually does, might I add. He has the clearers memories I have ever seen – especially for someone untrained in Occlumency.”

Both teachers were ushered to the pensive and dove in without too much prompting. They appeared in the DADA classroom and watch a scene of how Lockhart met Henry for the first time. It looked harmless, but they saw how the dumb blond might deduct that Henry had a crush on him. Then there were the other classes when the angry boy was forced to play different characters – again, nothing surprising. But then the memories of the detentions came – Lockhart always gushed about being a celebrity, about etiquette, how to look your best, how to speak… but the disturbing part was touching that started as hair-ruffles, patting the back and grew into involuntary half-hugs, lingering touches on the knee and thigh when they were working on piles of letters, head-scratches. However, that wasn't the end – they saw a scene of a happy family around a Christmas tree that stopped when the only wizard in the room saw one of his gifts. It ended with the kiss that made Henry tell authorities, the last drop.

Minerva was red with anger and lowly hissing like an angry cat. Snape was silently murderous, dark curses curling on his lips and magic prepared to be used for torture.

“I already sent a copy of the memories to the Child-Protection Department yesterday and Aurors should be here in an hour. Gilderoy doesn't know about any of this because I didn't want him to escape.

“What about Bundys?”

“Henry said he will tell them but there is no need to drag them into this. They couldn't help after all, as they are muggles.”

“True,” Severus huffed, still on the verge of running out of the office and going on a murder spree. Not only was Henry Lilly's son he promised to protect, but he also became his friend.

“Let's hope they will let him continue to study here,” Minerva mumbled, unsure that being muggle would stop the two parents from tearing Lockhart a new one. How no one noticed? Why it took so long for Henry to tell? What if he continued his silence? She felt like her heart tried to break apart.

She hoped Lockhart would go into Azkaban – which was very probable as Wizard World treasured children above anything else and people who sometimes only looked at minor wrongly ended up paying a hefty fine. Minerva didn't like Lucius Malfoy and probably never would but he was the cruellest prosecutor of child abusers. He will make sure that Gilderoy Lockhart ends up in prison (and if name Bundy won't make him work hard, Potter for sure will).

***

I don't understand much from your notes but I can help you with dark magic theory.

What? Who the fuck are you? How are writing in this journal? Are you T. M. R.?

I'm memory of Tom Marvolo Riddle, trapped in this – MY – diary. Writing is the only way I can communicate.

I'm Henry. So, what do you know about the difference between light and dark magic? And how one becomes a light/dark wizard?

That's what the circles and math were about? Well, to answer your question – the biggest difference between light and dark magic is designated by how easy it is to use by a wizard/witch. Everyone is born with some shade of magic and those with darker shades find it easier to use dark magic, and vice versa.

So why is ‘dark magic’ abolished?

Well, that's an interesting question…