Chapter 66: Preparations
"Mr. Lockhart."
I had been waiting for this parody of a teacher outside the Great Hall before breakfast.
"Young man, were you not taught how to address... your professor..."
He was clearly still saying the last part out of sheer momentum, because he had turned in my direction and immediately plastered on a strained smile.
"Ah... Mr. Black."
"Precisely. And I believe we had an arrangement... which you chose to disregard."
I shook my head, doing my best to convey the depth of my disappointment.
"I don't recall any such arrangement. Perhaps you have a copy of the contract?"
His smile remained just as strained.
"Is that so?"
I shrugged.
"Well then, I take it you've already prepared yourself for the consequences?"
"Young man, one really shouldn't speak to adult wizards that way. Who knows what those wizards might decide to do..."
"Is that so?"
I shook my head with mild disappointment.
"In that case, I suppose I shall simply have to take my chances and find out. Don't disappoint me."
I held his gaze for a moment, then turned and walked into the Great Hall, where I took my seat at the table.
"Stay alert and don't take off the protective artifacts I gave you."
I murmured this while quietly casting a Silencing Charm around our group, though my technique was now refined enough that no one noticed I had done anything at all.
"Has something happened?"
"Yes."
I closed my eyes briefly.
"Lockhart has overplayed his hand. He's trying to profit off children by pushing his own junk as official course materials."
"And you..."
"And I've decided to put him in his place. That's the end of the subject as far as anyone outside this group is concerned. The only reason I'm telling you is that it would be easy enough to figure out who I spend my time with, and someone might try to use you as leverage against me."
The girls and Harry nodded. I lifted the Silencing Charm, and we went on with breakfast, talking of other things. I kept half an eye on Lockhart, who was directing thoroughly unpleasant looks in my direction. Not that it troubled me particularly. This wizard would never break through the protective artifacts I had given to those who mattered to me.
After breakfast I had a free period, so I asked Flitwick for permission to use his fireplace, stepped home through it with no particular hurry, and from there made my way to the shop that sold international Portkeys.
"Kid… I mean, young man?"
The way I stepped out of the fireplace, and the offhand flick of my wand that swept the ash from my robes, prompted the shopkeeper to revise his greeting mid-word. His first instinct had clearly been something rather different. Not that it mattered.
"A Portkey to Russia and back. Urgent."
"Er…"
I raised an eyebrow and produced my checkbook. The mere sight of it told the shopkeeper he was not dealing with an ordinary boy. The Journeyman's ring catching the light on my finger presumably helped make the point that arguing with me was not a particularly intelligent idea.
"Right away, sir."
The shopkeeper vanished into the back of the shop and returned in under five minutes.
"Here you are. A two-way Portkey. That'll be fifty Galleons."
I gave a short, surprised snort. I had expected it to be considerably more expensive. That was why I had reached for the checkbook in the first place, but this amount…
I counted out the coins with my wand and lifted the Portkey from the counter. Before activating it, I examined it carefully. Enchanting one myself was still beyond me. That was Master-level work. But checking it was another matter entirely.
"Until next time, young sir."
"Good day."
I left the shop, adjusted the bag on my shoulder, and activated the Portkey. In the same instant, I was somewhere else entirely.
"Name, country of origin, and purpose of visit?"
A stern-looking man was at my side almost immediately, handing me a translation artifact before asking the question.
"Draco Black, Britain. Visiting the Combat Magic and Defence Against the Dark Arts Guild. I'll be in the country for about half an hour, possibly an hour."
The man nodded.
"Do you need assistance?"
"Well, if you have a guide available who could get me there quickly..."
"Five Sickles."
"To you, or..."
"To the guide."
"Done."
He gave his wand a spin, performing an incantation I didn't recognize.
"What was that?"
"A modified spell. Sends a signal to a special artifact in the waiting room. Your guide will be with you shortly."
I gave an approving nod, and sure enough, barely two minutes later, a young lad about my age appeared beside us.
"Sir?"
"The young man is from Britain. Mind your manners."
This was said in Russian, and the translation artifact had evidently been turned off remotely. I noticed the lack of it immediately. I understood every word perfectly and saw no reason to pretend otherwise.
"I may be from Britain, but unlike a great many of my countrymen, I don't have a stick lodged quite so far up that it comes out of my mouth."
The man's eyes widened slightly, and the boy stared at me in open-mouthed astonishment. My accent was dreadful, admittedly, a consequence of having had precious little opportunity to practice what had once been my mother tongue.
"The Combat Magic and Defence Guild. Quickly, please."
"This way, sir."
The boy collected himself. I returned the translation artifact to the border wizard with a nod, and he looked me over thoughtfully before nodding back.
Twenty minutes later, we were standing outside the main building of the Combat Magic and Defence Against the Dark Arts Guild. I paid the boy and went inside.
"Good afternoon."
I approached the young woman at the reception desk.
"Sir..."
She looked at me sharply and clearly spotted the ring on my finger.
"Draco Black, Britain. I need an urgent consultation with a wizard who holds international qualifications in teaching, Combat Magic, and Defence Against the Dark Arts."
"Duration of the consultation?"
"Approximately half an hour, perhaps a little longer, though it may be shorter if we can arrange for an expert assessment to be sent to me by post."
"That is possible. What would you like assessed?"
I swung my bag off my shoulder and placed a stack of books on the counter.
"These?"
She pushed them away with two fingers, a look of barely concealed distaste on her face. She had clearly recognized them at once. Hardly surprising, given that Lockhart's face was on every cover.
"Don't worry. I'm well aware of how the members of your Guild view this particular variety of pulp fiction."
She raised an eyebrow.
"However, this individual has been hired as a teacher at my school, and that would be one thing if he had simply assigned proper textbooks and had us work through the chapters, but he has pushed this rubbish as the official course material for every year group."
"I beg your pardon?!"
"Initially, I intended to be lenient, and I offered him a set of textbooks he could purchase and distribute to the students at his own expense. Very fine textbooks, ones I use for my own private study: Defence Against the Dark Arts: Questions and Answers by Dmitry Kozhevnikov. But he chose to ignore my offer, an opportunity to avoid conflict entirely."
Genuine respect appeared in the young woman's eyes at the mention of the book.
"So what I need is an expert willing to produce a written assessment, suitable for submission to a British court, confirming that this material is not only entirely unsuitable for educational purposes, but that the spells it contains have been so thoroughly mangled that it would be impossible to actually learn even the small number listed there."
"One moment, sir."
She produced a Patronus.
"Igor, I have a client for you: an expert assessment, urgent."
The Patronus disappeared. Barely five minutes later, a middle-aged wizard walked briskly into the reception hall.
"Sara?"
"This gentleman."
She nodded first toward me, then toward the stack of books. The moment the man saw the stack, he looked at me with raised eyebrows, so I had to go through the whole story again.
"Well... I have, in fact... read these."
He grimaced.
"The profession obliges one to be acquainted with even this sort of nonsense from time to time. But a full written assessment with a complete analysis will take about two weeks. I'll need to read through all of it again and take it apart properly."
"Could the assessment be sent to me by mail?"
"Of course."
"And the cost?"
"One hundred Galleons. A proper assessment of this sort usually runs higher, but given that you're doing this for the sake of children, and given the state of things in the world lately..."
The wizard's expression became faintly pained. "In short, I'll do it at a reduced rate."
"Understood." I produced my checkbook and wrote out the check. Not a small sum by any means, and I only had thirty Galleons on me in cash, so a check was not merely the convenient option. It was the only one.
"Satisfy my curiosity, would you, lad?" "If it's within my power to, certainly." I shrugged. "Why didn't you arrange for an expert assessment in advance?" "Quite simply because I thought this peacock wouldn't dare take things to court. I thought he'd want to protect his reputation. It appears he's decided to handle this differently." "I see." "Goodbye." "Hey, take your trash with you," a voice called after me. Someone glanced at the stack of books with contempt. "We've already got a copy of this drivel in the Utterly Useless section." "Ah, well..." I levitated the books into my bag with my wand, then left the Guild building and activated the return Portkey at once. "Name, country, and..." "Draco Black. Business meeting. Returning home." "What's in the bag?"
"Rubbish."
"Er..."
The border official looked taken aback, but I simply opened the bag, and he made a dismissive, disapproving sound.
"Right, off you go."
The wave of his hand was slightly contemptuous, but I took no offense. I hurried home, and from there transferred back to Hogwarts, arriving just as my next lesson was about to begin.
"Everything sorted?"
Flitwick looked at me with interest.
"Yes."
"And?"
"In two weeks, the assessment will be completed and they'll send me the results. Based on those, it will be formally determined that this particular material is fit for only one purpose: burning."
"Hmm."
Flitwick studied me thoughtfully.
"And where did you place the order?"
"Russia. That's where the Guild's main headquarters is, so that's where I went."
"The right decision."
"Do you know something I don't?"
"Well, I have a former student or two working in the Ministry, and they contacted me with a warning that Lockhart paid Umbridge to certify a letter of endorsement declaring his garbage as legitimate educational material."
"In that case..."
I shrugged.
"I'll bury not only Lockhart but Umbridge as well. Frankly, she brought it on herself. After something like that, even the Minister won't be able to save her. Her endorsement against the opinion of an internationally recognized teacher and Combat wizard with Guild-certified Defense qualifications..."
I shook my head.
"Agreed. Had you gone to a regional branch, she might have found a way to wriggle out of it. But as things stand, she has no chance at all."
"Right, I have a class to get to."
"Off you go, then."
Flitwick gave me an airy wave, as though mildly surprised I was still in the room, and I left his office with a smile, heading for the classroom.
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