Disclaimer: If you recognise it, surprise, I don't own it.
Chapter 25– A Single Step.
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Walking through the abundant crowd, I struggle to find the one man I am actually trying to find. Which I should have expected to be honest, given that the man I am looking for is less than half the height of the average man, and there are so many people here that I wouldn't even be able to find an average-sized person.
Realising that I won't be able to find the diminutive little man in this throng, I give up on my efforts and instead move to the place I was directed towards when I first arrived and was told the order of things. I wanted to find Flitwick before it started, wanting to get some last-minute advice and ease my nerves, but unfortunately, it looks like that won't happen.
Still, I have to say, this is a bigger crowd than I had expected, especially for an event that is as underground and regular as this. For my first proper duelling tournament, I have come to an underground event that Flitwick referred me to. I am not here to win or dominate or anything. I am here merely to gain experience. I have learned the spells and the theory, and my physicality is up to standard, but I have no proper experience, which is what I am here to gain.
Still, when Flitwick told me about this place, he described it as a weekly event where people went to have some duels, anybody being allowed to get on the stage, and have drinks and bet on the fights. Given that this was described as underground, I was expecting around thirty people to be here, tops. However, there are actually upwards of a hundred, and they are all lively, waiting for the duels to begin. Overall, much bigger than the understated get-together Flitwick convinced me it was.
When I got here, I went up to the bar and talked to one of the officials there, signing up to be one of the contenders in the upcoming tournament. The requirements were not even that strict, all I had to do was give my name and then hand my wand over so they could weigh it and record it down, and then they told me where to go to prepare for my match.
Flitwick did say he would be here, but I could not find him anywhere, so I can only continue on. The match will begin in ten minutes. Walking through the crowd, I finally reach the double doors through which the waiting rooms are, where I will ready up for my bout, and low and below who is waiting in front of it for me. Filius is there, his small form waiting patiently in front of the door, clearly waiting for me though he doesn't seem to catch my approach.
"Hello, Filius. Shall we go in? It won't be long before my first match starts." I say to him, shining my dazzling smile at him, which glistens in the dim hall. Flitwick, seeing my smile, looks surprised but still calmly follows me as I hold the door open for him and then enter the room. And then spotting the door labelled six, I enter that one and close it as Flitwick follows me in.
"Gilderoy? I nearly didn't recognise you. I wouldn't have even known it was you if you did not approach me and if you did not display that signature smile of yours. I assume some form of charm to give off the twinkle?" Flitwick says, clearly addressing my current appearance. Because, if it was not obvious, I do not look one iota like Gilderoy Lockhart right now.
"Haha, yes, that is right. I use it mainly for photographs from the press, the twinkle looking to be a reflection of the light of the camera off my teeth. Though it does make itself useful on occasion, such as now." I explain, embellishing the truth slightly. Because while the original Gilderoy did come up with this teeth-sparkling charm purely for his photographs, he liked it so much that it would be applied almost constantly, first thing in the morning and last thing at night. I only use it on occasion because it can be helpful at times, such as now,
"Yes, quite ingenuitive. It is, at most, a millisecond of light flashing on your teeth, not too little to be unnoticeable and not too much to reveal its falsity. Excellent charm work. However, I am confused why you have concealed your identity. Also, can I ask what method you have used because if you have put up a charm, there is a high chance of it being disrupted in the middle of your match?" Flitwick inquires, though I do admit I am more caught up on the compliment he gave, praise from a charms master, and it pisses me off. This little charm was praised, and the original Gilderoy was the one that made it, showing he had a natural talent, and yet he squandered it. Well, I won't make the same mistake.
"Well, I can't duel looking like Gilderoy Lockhart, famous adventurer and masterful wizard. I am not here to win, after all. I am here to gain experience, and while I will give it my all, I most likely won't win or even get that far in the tournament. If I were to do this as myself, then Gilderoy Lockhart would officially have a loss on his record, and I can not afford that. I have a reputation and brand to uphold. If that reputation were to fail or be destroyed or damaged in any way, then all of my businesses would be impacted. Profits will be down, and all future business will be affected, which affects not just me but all the people behind the scenes." I explain.
"This is why I have decided to come as someone else because I have more than just my reputation being in danger if I were to irrevocably lose. It would be selfish of me not to consider all of my workers and employees. That is why I went out and procured the hair of a random muggle and used a Polyjuice potion to change my appearance. I took it right before I got here, and I have some more prepared if this thing drags on." I say, not mentioning how I procured such a potion, but I think he believes I did it myself, and I am not going to disillusion him of that.
In actuality, I had known about this event for a while already, and so I had enough time to get all the ingredients needed and set up the brewing station in my building, in a closed-off room. Of course, that is well and all, but I do not have the proper skills to adequately make such a potion, and I don't want to overestimate myself and end up permanently disfiguring myself or, even worse, killing myself. Which is why I did what all great men do when they come upon a problem they find hard to solve. They delegate it to someone else.
Thankfully, I had Andromeda on my side, who is actually a very skilled Potioneer, having wanted a career in the subject before running off and getting hitched. So approaching her, I clued her into my duelling training and how I did not want any results I get in my new career to negatively affect my businesses, which she understood and agreed to help me with. And so she helped me brew the Polyjuice potion for the month before this event, and now I had an ample supply of Polyjuice potion that I put in stasis. I also went ahead and fully shaved the head of the muggle I chose, and now have enough hair that if I ever want to use this identity again, I can.
"Alright, well. I am pleased to see that you are thinking ahead. Truly, you have become a good man Gilderoy. Now, sit down and ready yourself. I am going to give you some advice, and also, you can't duel in what you are wearing." I take my seat as he directs me to, but then stand up again as he calls into question my form of dress, being just black clothes underneath a black robe. I don't see what is wrong with it; it is plain and allows me to move.
"First of all, remove your wand holster. You will carry your wand onto the stage and then do the rituals. The holster is just extra weight on your arms. And your current clothes, while adequate, are not made for duelling, and foreseeing this, I prepared the proper battle robes for you. Here you are." Saying so, he reaches behind him and pulls out a black and grey set of form-fitting robes and hands them over to me, taking me by surprise. I don't even know why he is doing this, I mean, I asked him for help, but he has gone above and beyond that.
"I-Thank you, Filius. But why? I know I am your former student, but pretty much all wizards in Britain under forty can attest to the same. I am not even paying or giving you anything in return, so why?" I ask, bringing forth the question that has been bugging me for a while. I mean, from the beginning, I was expecting an uphill battle where I would constantly bug the man and eventually wear him to until he agreed to teach me in exchange for me paying him a hefty amount, but none of that was necessary.
Professor Flitwick delivered those books to me the next time we met, and then after that, he contacted me and arranged for our next meeting. Obviously, I was confused and wanted to question it, but this had worked out for me, and so I didn't look a gift horse in the mouth and carried on, more focused on making the best of the situation and learning and absorbing as much as I could from the master duelist. But with this, I can't keep it at bay anymore, and I clearly ask him for his reasoning.
"Well, to be honest, Gilderoy, after our first meeting, I had only planned to deliver some books to you and give you some information and advice before leaving you to your own devices, and that was only because you were a Ravenclaw that I didn't manage to properly teach in your time at Hogwarts." So he says, confusing me further. I had no further contact with him after that meeting, so something must have happened to change his mind, and I had nothing to do with it.
"Coincidentally, I mentioned our meeting in passing at a Hogwarts staff meeting, and Albus took some interest." I swallow nervously hearing that because originally, Dumbledore was supposed to find out about Gilderoy's fraudulent behaviour and then invite him to be the second-year DADA teacher. Before that, he had no interest, but now, he is suddenly paying attention to me. I thought I covered up all my tracks, but maybe I missed something, or perhaps my covering things up is what clued him onto it.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
"You see, there is a rumour that the position of the Defence Against The Dark Arts professor is cursed and that whoever takes it will leave in one year, one way or the other. This has resulted in injuries and once a death, though I believe it is sort of a self-fulfilling prophecy, and they have all done it to themselves. So, needless to say, the position is constantly being exited, and we need someone new every year." I- I do not like where this is going, not in the least.
"...And what does that have to with this?" I say, dreading the answer. I am pretty sure I already know what the answer is, but unless I hear it aloud, I don't want to bring myself to believe it.
"I am getting to that, you see, with people leaving at the end of every year, we need new people to replace them. This is why when Albus heard I was in contact with you, who has quite the background in DADA with all of your books and adventures, he requested me to help you out. And I have, in the hopes that I might request you to be a teacher for a single year if we can not find anyone else sometime in the future." So he says, practically ringing the death knell on my nice relaxed life. And I thought that I had prevented this, but apparently not.
"Well, I can't exactly say no to that now, can I? Especially not after all the help you have given me and will continue to give me, I hope. Professor, huh? I wouldn't mind passing on some knowledge to the next generation." I say with a bright smile, my teeth shining, even though on the inside, all I want to do is scream and pick this tiny man up and shove him into a bin. And yet, I keep the smile up and act like this is an opportunity for me.
Now that I have already taken Flitwick's help, I am pretty much already opted into volunteering as the DADA professor for a year. Especially now that Dumbledore knows because if I refuse, I will look suspicious. Maybe, I don't know, but I know that I can't risk it. If Dumbledore decides to follow up, he might find out about the fraud. I mean, he knew Slughorn was lying, and that was with the man altering his own memories. So I can't risk Dumbledore having any reason to doubt me, even if that means I have to teach at Hogwarts for a year.
"Gilderoy, of course, I will continue to teach you. I am invested now. Plus, if you were to rise to become a master duelist, I can take pride in the fact I was your teacher. And it is good that you are looking forward to being a professor since although the current professor has not quit, he has proved to be unqualified for the role even though the Headmaster gave him a chance, so he will not be the DADA teacher next year, and we have yet to decide on next year's DADA professor. So it might be you." Flitwick says, only making me more of a nervous wreck though I still manage to laugh in response.
I suppose, now that I am locked in, I could just teach the following year like the original Gilderoy was supposed to. Is this the universe exerting its own will? I guess there are some pros to doing it in Harry's second year instead of any of the other ones. The only threats are Tom Riddle's Diary and the Basilisk... I can't believe I just quantified a massive fuck off snake with the word only. Still, as long as I keep away from the diary, wear some glasses as a fashion statement or something and never travel the hallways at night or alone, I should be fine.
Perhaps it would be better to get this out of the way and do it now instead of being called in on another year when there are dementors, death eaters, death games, assassinations and Headmaster Snape. Just do it and get it out of the way now, when the threats in Hogwarts can be easily avoided. Yes, if they ask, I will accept. Wait, no... I will just ignore it till it comes up again, and when it does, I will reevaluate and make a decision.
"Well, let's not focus on the future right now and try to turn our gaze to the present. Now, let me talk you through your upcoming duel. First of all, you are going to want to always keep an eye on your opponent, but don't look at them. Be aware of the entire stage, but keep your focus on your opponent. Also, make sure that you..." He continues to jabber, and I just try to absorb as much of it as I can. Even if it doesn't quite compute right now, it might become more apparent in the future.
I continually nod my head as he talks, showing my understanding of what he is saying. Well, not understanding since I don't know how to keep my eyes on my opponent without looking at them, but I am, at the very least, listening. This is a learning experience. I am here to get beaten and, in doing so, cover my flaws and eventually become unbeatable.
"So, did you understand all of that?" Flitwick asks, finally stopping his rambling for a moment.
"Uh, can you just go through that one more time?"
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"And now, our first contestant this evening. Brandishing a wand, nine inches made of cherry with a dragon heartstring core. A formidable wand is often thought to be purely aesthetic, but such a wand is very powerful, only to be wielded with exceptional control and strength of mind. Edward. N. Stick," The announcer or referee says, prompting me to walk out and onto the stage and move to join him at the centre.
"And his opponent today is..." I don't pay attention to what he is saying as I am more focused on trying not to laugh right now. Since I changed my face, a change in name was also required, and since I can always use a different person for a Polyjuice Potion, I decided to have some fun with it. The full name I chose was Edward Norma Stick. Hehe, if you only use the initial of the first name and say the rest of it, hehe. I might be a prominent magician now with a big business and participating in duels, but part of me is still a sixteen-year-old kid, and this shit is funny.
"Alright, begin." I perk up and snap back to reality when the referee speaks, and I realised he has moved off of the stage and in front of me is a middle-aged man, his face littered with scars and was very much ugly. And once I realise this is my opponent, my hand moves and holds my wand in front of my chest as he does the same, and then I bow my head a little bit as he does a slight nod with a nasty grin on his face, which seriously pisses me off. There is etiquette to this shit, and this guy basically just pissed all over me.
Snapping my wand back to my side, I spin around, and I can hear him do the same behind me, and then I start walking over to my end of the stage. All the while, I think about how much I am going to hurt this man for the slight he has done upon me. Wizarding society is a lot about etiquette and respect, which is why status is so important and why muggle-borns find it hard to fit in and end up discriminated against.
Right now, in a duel, how much you bow your head is how much respect you are showing your opponent. It is customary to just bow your head slightly, it is like the minimum you can do, but this fucker only nods his head showing me disrespect. He is looking down and laughing at me, expecting me to be weak and easy to beat, probably because my name makes me seem like a muggle-born, and he feels no need to show me the customary courtesy. I am going to fucking humiliate this man.
Reaching the end, I spin around and take my duelling position. My right leg forward, my left leg behind, ready to spring in any which direction. My torso is to the side, leaving me less exposed to attacks, and my right hand holds my wand in front of my chest, close so as to minimise the area I am exposing and my left arm is tucked behind my back since it is useless right now, though if I need it while dodging, it will come out.
"One. Two. Three!" Immediately I lashed out with a stupefy, sending the red-coloured spell straight towards my opponent because as much as I wanted to hurt him, I must remember my goal. Plus, getting rid of him with ease will make him look like a fool, especially after he acted so big in front of the crowd.
"Expeliarmurs!" Unfortunately, my opponent, while an arsehole, is still a skilled duelist going by the scars on his face, and he just sidesteps my spell with ease before retaliating with his own spell. However, having practised a bit with Flitwick, I also don't panic and calmly move to the side, already readying for the next attack I will shoot at him.
I duck, narrowly missing the sickly yellow spell that passes over my head, which had hidden its trajectory behind the expelliarmus and allowed must hit me directly in the face. But, unfortunately, it seems I was taking things too lightly, and I only practised with Flitwick once in a blue moon, so I don't have much experience, which is clearly my biggest problem.
"Ossio Dispersimus, "I whisper after sending out another stunner, taking a leaf out of my opponent's books and hiding it behind the stunner. Instead of worrying about my almost fatal mistake, I ignore it and carry on, properly getting into the groove of my duelling style. All-out assault.
Rather than wait to see how he responds to my spells that have yet to reach him, I carry on, shooting a bombarda at the middle of the stage, which my spells had just passed, making a lot of rubble spray up into the air. Then, swishing my wand at the rubble, it transforms into a flock of birds which immediately shoots forward, covering the entire stage and also providing cover for me, giving me time for my next plan.
My opponent had just sidestepped both my spells, including the bone vanishment spell and had just turned to deal with the flock when I quickly set my next plan into action. Using some conjuration, I conjure a bunch of arrows and swish to shoot them forward, right behind the flock of birds which my opponent had just burned to a crisp.
My opponent, at the sight of all these arrows, panics, knowing that if he tried to deflect them with a wide area spell, then the chance of getting hurt increases, so instead, he decides to clear out a small section and make it through that, like he is playing a hole in the wall. But I expected this. In fact, I wanted him to do this.
"Sagitta Puctum." I intone, shooting a single arrow out of the tip of my wand that was aimed in his direction. This arrow was not like the rest, as it shot out of my wand like a bullet, surpassing the speed of the other arrows and reaching my opponent just after he had cleared his section, piercing his thigh. Even though he is hit, he shows his experience as he doesn't let that stop him. Still, unfortunately for him, I had already followed up straight after I shot that arrow. He hits the ground after a stupefy and an expelliarmus, sending his wand flying into the air.
The crowd cheers as I take pleasure in my win and showing that ugly fucker up. And I also find it funny that the arrow spell that I used was not even intended to be used as an offensive spell but rather as a cheer. This spell was used by Quidditch fans, specifically the Appleby Arrows supports, to show their support, and they would shoot a bunch of arrows out of the tip of their wand as they cheered. It was obviously banned when an arrow pierced the nose of a referee by the name of Nugent Potts in 1894. Still, it was a little nifty thing that I picked up on.
I left that stage surrounded by sheers ad shouts, feeling on top of the world like I couldn't be stopped.
I lost my next match.
Apparently, the beginning matches are always about feeling your opponent out and conserving your magic for the later rounds. This is why my opponent did not expect me to go all out and use a bunch of flashy magic to take him down. However, in my next match, my opponent took me out quickly, utilising my lack of experience, which I showcased in my first match, and also, my magic was drained, so I lost pretty quickly.
But that is what this was all about, learning. And I have learnt that I need to be more conservative in my all-out offensive approach... somehow.