Hermione looked at the corpse.
"Confringo!"
Lester's body exploded into pieces, flesh and blood flying, remains scattered across the ground.
Agent Ethan frowned, looking at her with puzzlement. "What are you doing?"
Hermione put away her wand, glanced at the mess on the ground, and said evenly, "Not a single wound on him. He was hit by Avada Kedavra."
"Did you want our Deputy Director Gilderoy Lockhart to just cart him back and claim the credit?"
"Would the Ministry record it as a merit for him — or make him the merit?"
Right. The moment Hogwarts broke for summer, Lockhart had wasted no time submitting his resignation, stepping down as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and joining the Ministry of Magic.
Minister Cornelius Fudge personally received and interviewed the rising star wizard.
The two of them got along famously.
Lockhart had fame, and he had fans. Fudge decided his joining would bring the Ministry considerable benefits. So the two struck a deal on the spot, each getting exactly what they wanted. Fudge appointed Lockhart as Deputy Director of the Auror Office in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, effective immediately.
The position. The treatment. The starting point was so absurdly high that the Ministry's old guard collectively lost their ability to speak.
They'd seen people ride rockets before. They'd never seen someone ride a rocket with a nitrogen booster strapped to it.
Lockhart didn't disappoint.
In just over a month on the job, he'd found and eliminated three dark wizards who had been on the Ministry's most-wanted list for years , one after another, as if he were playing on easy mode. He'd proven himself beyond any reasonable doubt.
At this rate, another promotion wasn't far off.
He hadn't forgotten his other career, either.
My Auror Career burst onto the scene and swept through the wizarding world almost overnight. It detailed how he tracked down these dangerous dark wizards and outwitted them at every turn. From ninety-nine-year-olds to toddlers who'd just learned to walk, nearly everyone had a copy , and everyone was reading it with relish.
Fame and fortune. Lockhart had both, and then some.
The wizarding world had never seen an influencer quite like him. In the past hundred years, outside of Dumbledore, Grindelwald, and Voldemort, no one commanded more name recognition than Gilderoy Lockhart. Even the famous savior Harry Potter came in a distant second.
The Ministry officials who'd originally resented Lockhart's meteoric rise had nothing left to say. The quiet little schemes and underhanded maneuvers faded away entirely. With a fanbase like that, as long as his image held, every competitor would simply be buried.
Hermione waved her hand. The surrounding soil surged upward and wrapped around the scattered remains.
"Take the body to Lockhart."
She turned to Agent Ethan.
"Hogwarts starts soon. Keep watching him. I'm heading back to school tomorrow."
---
Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.
Hermione boarded the Hogwarts Express and found an empty compartment without any trouble.
A few minutes later, the compartment door slid open.
A man stepped in , tired-looking, clothes rumpled and worn.
"Excuse me. Is anyone sitting here?"
His voice was quiet and polite.
Hermione looked up, closed her book, and shook her head. "No."
He came in, lifted a battered suitcase onto the luggage rack, and settled into the seat across from her. His gaze drifted to her.
"What year are you in? Which house?"
He seemed to be looking for something to say.
Hermione smiled slightly. "Third year. Gryffindor."
Before he could ask anything else, she continued, "You're the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Ares , no, sorry. Professor Remus Lupin. Am I right?"
The man blinked. Surprise flickered through his eyes.
"That's right. How did you know?"
Hermione gestured toward the students passing by in the corridor outside.
"After Professor Lockhart resigned, Headmaster Dumbledore told me the new professor's name. And besides—"
"And the whole train is students," Lupin said, catching on. "I'm the only adult. Easy enough to guess, isn't it?"
"No." Hermione looked at him. "Your suitcase has a name tag."
Lupin: "..."
An awkward silence settled over the compartment.
"What's your name?" he finally asked.
"Hermione Granger."
Something shifted in his eyes.
"Ah. Miss Granger." A note of recognition. "Headmaster Dumbledore mentioned you in his letter. He said you'd be my teaching assistant."
Hermione's eyes went wide.
"Teaching assistant? That's not right — I only agreed to one year!"
Lupin shrugged, a helpless smile on his face. "I wouldn't know about that. Dumbledore's letter was quite clear on the matter."
Hermione pressed her lips together and muttered under her breath, "That old man..."
They talked for a little while longer. Then Lupin yawned, rubbing at his bleary eyes.
"Sorry, Miss Granger. I need to sleep. I was up late last night and didn't get any rest."
Hermione closed her book and nodded.
She knew, of course. Lupin's "staying up late" wasn't insomnia. It was the full moon. A werewolf transformation.
She didn't say a word. She just watched quietly as he pulled his worn coat over himself and curled up on the seat.
Within minutes, soft snoring filled the compartment.
Hermione turned to the window, watching the scenery blur past, her thoughts wandering.
Dumbledore had made her a teaching assistant again?
That old man. Did he actually think she was his free errand girl?
She made a mental note: the moment she got back to Hogwarts, she was going to have a very thorough talk with Dumbledore.
CLANG!
The compartment door flew open.
Harry and Ron poked their heads in.
"Hermione! You really are here!"
Ron dropped into the seat beside her, grinning. "I knew it! You must've gotten here ages ago. Harry and I checked every single compartment looking for you!"
Harry sat down too, still smiling. "Ron figured you'd be tucked away somewhere reading. So , good summer?"
Hermione opened her mouth to answer.
Then she noticed Lupin.
He'd cracked his eyes open at the noise. His gaze drifted to Harry and lingered there for a few seconds, quiet and unreadable, before his eyes slid shut again.
Something complicated lived in that look. Something he didn't let show.
The train rolled on steadily, the landscape rushing past outside.
Hermione leaned against the window with her book, eating an apple.
Then the train lurched.
Hard.
It shuddered once and slowly ground to a halt.
The lights went out.
The entire train plunged into darkness, and startled cries erupted from compartments up and down the length of the train.
"What's happening?" Ron's voice came first. He was trying to sound normal. He wasn't quite pulling it off.
Harry said nothing, but unease coiled in his chest, quiet and instinctive.
The cold came next.
It crept in from everywhere at once , a deep, bone-level chill that had nothing to do with the weather. The temperature plummeted. Frost crawled across the windows in thick, spreading patterns.
A dark shape appeared at the compartment door.
Blurred. Formless.
It drifted inside like smoke.
➤ Next: Dementor
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