Obliviate
“That boy, Harry Potter. He seems familiar,” thought Gilderoy Lockhart as he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling of the Janus Thickey ward at St. Mungo’s.
“He said I taught him in his second year at Hogwarts.”
Lockhart then asked the witch in charge of the ward if he could read the issues of the Daily Prophet from September and June of the previous four years.
The healer, puzzled, forwarded his request to the head healer who agreed to it.
The next day, another healer came carrying a stack of newspapers. He dropped them onto the bed next to Gilderoy and left.
Lockhart spent the next few months reading the back-issues of the Prophet.
“Gilderoy Lockhart, teaching at Hogwarts this year, was taken to St. Mungo’s Hospital today after trying to Obliviate a student. The Memory Charm backfired…,” he read in a June Prophet.
Obliviate?…”Obliviate!”…”The adventure ends here–”…The Chamber of Secrets…
It all came back to him. Everything. All his memories.
“Weasley, it’s his fault. He’s the reason I spent three years here. I’m going to find him. I’ll find him and make him lose his memory!”
When the healer’s back was turned, Gilderoy snuck up behind her and slid her wand out of her back pocket.
“Obliviate!” he shouted.
There was a flash of golden light, and the healer ran to tell the head healer about the “amazing recovery” Lockhart made.
***
Two years later, Gilderoy Lockhart sat in his recliner reading the Daily Prophet.
“Harry Potter (The Chosen One) has recently tracked down and destroyed the final ‘horcrux’ (Godric Gryffindor‘s wand). These horcruxes concealed parts of He-who-must-not-be-named’s soul, effectively making him immortal. As the ‘Chosen One’ Harry must duel You-know-who…”
“Weasley can wait. I’ll get Potter after he beats Voldemort,” he thought, scribbling a mustache on the picture of Harry. The mustache amazingly, stayed in the same position of Harry’s face as he waved from the top of the Prophet.
“Until then, I’ll shadow him.”
Harry stood by the lake, talking to Ron.
“I’ve decided to stay at Hogwarts for a seventh year now that the horcruxes are gone.”
“Even so, you missed three whole days.”
“You sound like Hermione. At least I got out of a few homework assignments.”
“Great idea! I wish I’d thought of that!”
Harry had stopped listening. The water of the lake had changed. It slowly started to swirl around, like someone had pulled out a drain stopper. It gradually picked-up speed.
Soon a dry spot in the center appeared. Right in the middle, a dark, cloaked figure materialized. It floated over onto the land. It was Lord Voldemort.
“Ron, run!” shouted Harry.
Ron spun around and ran toward Hogwarts Castle.
“Avada Kedavra!”
A green jet of light narrowly missed Harry. He flicked his wand, attempting to disarm Voldemort, who easily blocked the spell.
“Crucio!” shouted Harry.
“Developed a liking of the dark arts, Harry?” laughed Voldemort, deflecting the curse.
“Not particularly,” said Harry, attempting Levicorpus.
Voldemort blocked it.
“Accio wand!” Voldemort hissed.
Harry’s wand sped toward the Dark Lord.
“Now, Harry, I’m going to do what I’d meant to do sixteen years ago. Avada Ked¾ ”
“Expelliarmus!” shouted a voice.
Gilderoy Lockhart emerged from some nearby bushes, catching Voldemort’s wand.
Lockhart whispered an incantation.
Voldemort dropped Harry’s wand. He slowly shrank, losing his shape. He soon became a silver water goblet.
The next day, the Daily Prophet had a front page article with the headline “Harry Potter and Gilderoy Lockhart Defeat Lord Voldemort.”
The End
