The holding cells beneath the Ministry of Magic were exactly as Gilderoy had imagined them, cold and damp and utterly devoid of warmth. The stone walls seemed to drink in the light from the single dim torch that flickered in its bracket while long, wavering shadows danced across the iron bars of his cell.
He sat on a narrow bench that might have been comfortable if it had been padded, or if he had not been arrested, or if his magic had not been completely blocked by the cuffs that still bit into his wrists.
Well, this is new.
At least they did not put me in Azkaban.
He almost laughed at the thought, but he stopped himself because he had never been arrested in his previous life. Jon had been a boringly law-abiding college student, and yet here he was, six months into his second life, sitting in a Ministry cell and wondering how everything had gone so wrong so quickly.
Amelia will get me out, he told himself as the thought became a small anchor in the sea of uncertainty.
She is probably already planning something, and Pandora too. Maybe even Xenophilius in his own dreamy way.
Hours passed, or what felt like hours, though without windows or clocks, he could not be certain. No one came to question him, and no one came to check on him.
The silence was broken only by the occasional drip of water somewhere in the distance and the faint echo of footsteps that never seemed to get closer. Water leaking from the ceiling was expected since the Ministry of Magic was located underground.
His mind replayed the fight over and over as he remembered the masked wizards, the chaos, the spells flying everywhere, the students falling, and the moment when the Aurors had appeared and surrounded him while they accused him.
Someone planted it, he thought as his jaw tightened. One of them must have slipped it into my robes during the chaos, probably with magic, because I did not feel a thing.
The thought was cold comfort because he knew he was innocent, but he hoped the Ministry would investigate fairly. Then again, Gilderoy was reminded of the fate of Sirius Black, and he shuddered as he thought that at least he was not directly thrown inside Azkaban without a trial.
But the question still remained as to whether he would get a fair trial or not.
The sound of footsteps finally came as the kind of footsteps that announced authority echoed through the corridor.
Gilderoy looked up as a figure appeared outside his cell, tall with sharp features and eyes that seemed to miss nothing. The man had short black hair with an unnaturally straight parting and a narrow toothbrush moustache that looked as if it were trimmed with a slide-rule.
Looking at the man, Gilderoy was reminded of a historical figure who had a similar toothbrush moustache and was famous back in his world and perhaps in this one too.
"Mr. Lockhart," the man said as his voice remained cold and professional while he gestured for the Auror beside him to unlock the cell door. "I am Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I will be questioning you."
Crouch? Is this the same Crouch who was ruthless against Death Eaters until his son was found out to be a Death Eater? Maybe I am safe?
Gilderoy didn't stand up and kept sitting with his hands still bound. "I already told the Aurors that I did not put that artifact in my robes because someone planted it during the fight."
Crouch's expression did not change as he stepped into the cell. "That is precisely what we will be discussing."
The questioning was relentless because Crouch asked about the artifact, where it had come from, when he had acquired it, and who had given it to him.
Gilderoy answered every question with the same response: he had never seen it before, nor did he know how it had gotten into his robes, and someone must have planted it during the chaos.
Crouch asked about the fight, who had attacked first, why he had intervened, and whether he had any connection to the masked wizards. Gilderoy answered truthfully because he had been defending students, he had acted on instinct, and he had never seen any of the attackers before in his life.
And then, unexpectedly, Crouch's tone shifted slightly.
"Raising your wand in defence of students was a good decision," he said as his eyes studied Gilderoy's face with an intensity that was almost uncomfortable. "I have already investigated from the scene and found out that you were clearly defending others. The crime of carrying a Dark artifact, however, must be resolved in front of the Wizengamot ."
Gilderoy blinked. Did he really investigate what happened? Did he ask the students before coming here?
Suddenly, realisation dawned on his face. Wait, I remember. Wasn't Crouch the same person who had thrown Sirius into prison without investigation? Is this the same person?
He studied Crouch's face as he searched for any hint of what the man was really thinking, and there it was when a flicker appeared in the man's eyes and his jaw relaxed almost imperceptibly
Crouch turned toward the cell door before he paused at the threshold.
"You will be allowed visitors," he said as his voice returned to its cold professionalism.
And then he was gone while his footsteps echoed down the corridor.
His first visitor came sooner than he expected.
Dumbledore appeared at the entrance to his cell, his tall figure seeming to fill the space entirely, his half-moon spectacles glinting in the dim torchlight. His expression was calm, as it always was, but Gilderoy could see the tension in his shoulders, the subtle tightness around his eyes.
"Professor," Gilderoy said, managing a weak smile. "We have to stop meeting like this."
Dumbledore's lips twitched. "I must admit, I did not anticipate our next encounter occurring in a Ministry holding cell. The Great Hall, the Quidditch pitch, and now here. You seem determined to keep things interesting, Mr. Lockhart."
"I like to keep people on their toes."
"I have no doubt." Dumbledore stepped closer as his eyes studied Gilderoy's face, but unlike the intensity that Crouch had shown, he spoke in a kind, grandfatherly tone. "I want you to know that I believe you are innocent. The circumstances of your arrest are suspicious, to say the least."
Gilderoy felt slightly better on hearing Dumbledore believed him. "Thank you, Professor. I don't know how the artifact got into my robes. I was defending students. I swear it."
"I know," Dumbledore said simply. "And I am working to prove it. The Ministry is a complex institution, but it is not immune to the truth. I have spoken with several members of the Wizengamot who are sympathetic to your case. Lord Black, Lord Bones, and others."
"Lord Black and Lord Bones are here?"
"Yes, Arcturus was the one who had first arrived at ministry and pressured crouch into investigating properly." Dumbledore's eyes glinted with something that might have been amusement. "It seems you have made quite the impression on him."
Gilderoy thought of Bellatrix, of Narcissa, of the betrothal contract he had signed with both of them. Yeah. I suppose I have.
"Lord Bones is here as well," Dumbledore continued. "He came at Amelia's request."
Amy. The name sent a wave of warmth through him.
"Thank you," Gilderoy said, his voice slightly hoarse.
Dumbledore inclined his head. "I will do everything in my power to ensure justice is done, Mr. Lockhart. That is what I can promise."
He paused, his eyes meeting Gilderoy's with a hint of something that might have been reassurance. "I will take my leave now. I believe Edgar wishes to speak with you."
Dumbledore departed, his footsteps echoing down the corridor, and moments later, Edgar Bones strode into the cell, his expression a mixture of concern and determination.
"Gilderoy," he said, his voice warm but steady as he gripped Gilderoy's shoulder like an older brother. "I came as soon as I received Amelia's message. I went straight to Crouch, but Arcturus was already there—had been for the past hour, telling Crouch to investigate properly."
Gilderoy shook his hand, a tired smile crossing his face. "I figured someone would come. Just didn't expect you and Arcturus both."
"You should have." Edgar clapped him on the shoulder. "You're family now, whether you like it or not."
"Amelia is not the type to sit around and wait," Edgar continued, squeezing his shoulder one last time. "Neither am I. We'll get you out of here."
He patted Gilderoy's shoulder once in comfort, then turned and exited the cell, his footsteps fading into the distance.
The silence stretched for a moment before Arcturus Black stepped into the cell, his robes immaculate and his expression stoic. He studied Gilderoy for a long moment with the same sharp assessment he had shown at the Yule Ball.
"You look better than I expected for a man in a holding cell."
Gilderoy snorted. "I have had worse days, though I admit this is a first."
"I imagine so." Arcturus stepped closer. "I have already spoken with several members of the Wizengamot and formed your defence. The trial will be held in an hour."
"Thank you."
"I am doing it not only for you but also for my granddaughters because they manage themselves on their own already, but having someone powerful backing them is always good."
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I have changed the goal. Now, only 50 Power Stones must be reached for the next chapter to be released that week.
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