The seventh-floor corridor was quieter than it had any right to be, torches flickering low against the stone walls as their light caught on nervous faces gathering at the agreed spot. So students stood stiffly with arms crossed, while others whispered in clusters, their voices dropping whenever soone new approached.
Gilderoy stood a few steps ahead of the group, wand resting loosely at his side. He didn't fidget or shift. He simply watched.
Hufflepuffs gathered closest to the wall, murmuring among themselves and glancing around as if expecting soone to burst out at any mont. Gryffindors leaned forward instead, restless, their expressions sharp with impatience and anger still fresh from the news. Ravenclaws stood nearer the center, quieter, eyes constantly moving as they assessed exits, people, possibilities.
A handful of Slytherins lingered at the back. Not many—but enough to be noticed.
Gilderoy's gaze stopped on Regulus Black.
The boy stood straight, hands folded behind his back, his face unreadable. He wasn't pretending indifference, nor was he sneering. He was watching.
Their eyes t. Gilderoy inclined his head slightly, and after a brief pause, Regulus returned the gesture with a subtle nod.
The whispering picked up imdiately.
"Slytherins?"
"Is that Regulus Black?"
"Why is he here?"
Gilderoy stepped forward before the murmurs could spiral.
"Good evening," he said calmly, his voice carrying easily through the corridor—not loud, but controlled.
"I know so of you are wondering why you're here. I know so of you think this is reckless." He paused, letting his gaze move across the group. "And so of you probably think this is a joke."
Emma Halloway, captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, folded her arms. "Why should we even listen to you?" Her eyes flicked over him openly. "You're… well. You're Lockhart."
Gilderoy didn't bristle. He smiled.
Instead of replying, he stepped closer and took Emma's hand gently. "I apologize," he said, bowing slightly. "If my past incompetence displeases you, my lady."
The corridor went silent.
Emma froze. For a second, she genuinely didn't know what to do. Then she yanked her hand back, her cheeks coloring faintly. "I—what—don't—" She cleared her throat sharply. "That's not what I—"
A sharp pinch hit Gilderoy's side.
"My apologies," he said smoothly, turning toward Alia and taking her hand this ti. "If I've displeased you, my lady… perhaps I can make it up to you later in private." He winked.
Alia's face went red instantly. She huffed, turned away, and crossed her arms—very deliberately rembering exactly how he had pleased her a few days ago.
That did it.
Light laughter broke out across the group. Even so of the Hufflepuffs relaxed, and a few Ravenclaws smirked as the tension cracked, just a little.
Gilderoy stepped back into place, his expression turning serious again. "I didn't bring you here for theatrics," he said. "I brought you here because the world outside this castle is burning."
That sobered them.
"I vote Alia leads," he continued suddenly.
Heads snapped toward him.
"She has the skill. The discipline. And she doesn't freeze under pressure."
A Gryffindor scoffed loudly. "You've got to be joking."
Another muttered, not quietly enough, "How's a girl supposed to beat ?"
Gilderoy's smile twisted. For half a second, sothing sharp and unpleasant slipped through—an ugly grin he didn't bother hiding fast enough.
Perfect. A volunteer. He he he he.
"Then let's test that," he said lightly. "If anyone thinks they can lead better than my Alia—step forward."
Alia's hand went to her wand instinctively as she turned toward the Gryffindor who had spoken, already ready to hex him—then she heard it.
My Alia.
She stopped. Her posture straightened, the anger lting into calm as she stepped forward instead, wand loose in her hand and expression composed.
The corridor fell quiet.
A seventh-year Gryffindor laughed nervously and raised his wand. "Fine. I'll do it."
Gilderoy stepped aside. "Go ahead."
The duel lasted less than two seconds. The boy's first spell was sloppy, and Alia deflected it without even looking directly at him. His second was slower. She stepped past it, twisted her wrist, and disard him cleanly.
His wand flew. He stumbled. A quick Stupefy dropped him flat.
Silence.
Another student stepped forward. Then another. Each ti, Alia dismantled them—no flashy magic, no taunting, just clean movent, tight casting, and control.
When the last challenger collapsed onto the stone, breathing hard, Alia stood alone.
No one spoke.
"I think that settles it," Gilderoy said calmly, pride slipping into his voice despite himself. "Leadership isn't about shouting the loudest. It's about skill and decisiveness." He glanced at Alia. "And she has both."
A few students nodded slowly.
"Do not fear the na Voldemort at Hogwarts," Gilderoy said suddenly.
Almost everyone flinched.
"Yes," he continued, his voice steady, "it's smart not to say his na outside. The taboo is active." He gestured around them. "But rember where you are. This is Hogwarts."
"Rember who he fears."
"Dumbledore."
A few Ravenclaws shifted uneasily. Hufflepuffs murmured agreent. So of the Slytherins at the back sneered—except Regulus, who watched intently.
"Why fight him at all?" a Hufflepuff Chaser asked quietly. "Why not just stay safe?"
"Because he won't let you," Gilderoy replied. "Voldemort isn't fighting for blood or honor. He's fighting for control. He kills anyone who disagrees."
A Slytherin stepped forward. "Blood matters. You think a half-blood can stand against him?"
"Dumbledore already did," Gilderoy said flatly. "Skill matters. Courage matters. Blood doesn't."
Another voice, sharp rose: "But he supports pureblood rights."
Gilderoy turned toward Lyra Blackthorne. "Then explain the Veylins. Explain the infant. Why did Voldemort wipe out an entire pureblood family?"
There was utter silence as no one spoke.
"If you don't agree with him," Gilderoy continued, his voice low, "you die. Pureblood or not."
No one argued.
"United," he said at last. "That's what this is. We train together. We fight together."
A few claps started—hesitant, unsure. Then more. Not roaring applause, not cheers, but enough.
Regulus stepped forward. "I will join."
Gilderoy t his eyes. "Good."
More students stayed. So left. That was fine.
Gilderoy's eyes scanned the remaining crowd, spotting Quidditch mbers from his own house—Captain Adrian, Cedric, Catriona—giving him quick thumbs-ups. He waved at Pandora and Xeno as they stepped forward to stand beside him and Alia.
"Nice speech, Lockhart," Pandora said, slapping Gilderoy lightly on the shoulder, while Xeno nodded in agreent.
"Thanks," Gilderoy grinned. "It was only the truth."
"That's my man," Alia said proudly, slinging an arm around his shoulder.
Xenophilius spoke up, excited. "Also, we didn't get to congratulate you both for becoming a couple."
"It was so obvious," Pandora smirked, looking at them. "I an, you've been joined at the hip most of these days. By the way, I need to see both of you at the wedding."
"You're my best man," Xenophilius added, turning to Gilderoy.
"?" Gilderoy blinked, startled.
Xenophilius gave him a sideways look. "Why not? Aren't we best roommates?" He bumped Gilderoy lightly with his shoulder.
Gilderoy smiled, recalling mories of the previous Lockhart—he had indeed shared a dorm room for seven years with Xeno. "Yes," he said, fist-bumping Xenophilius. "I accept, buddy."
"So, Pandora, how do you know Alia?" Gilderoy asked.
Pandora smiled. "Alia is my arch-rival in academics. Plus, we were study partners for five years before she decided to pursue a career as an Auror."
Alia gave a mock frown. "I hope your invitation also ans I'm one of your bridesmaids."
Pandora laughed. "Yes, yes, Alia. You're one of my bridesmaids too."
Alia's fake frown lted. "Nice. Now we both have to co to your wedding."
"But enough chit-chat," Pandora said, nodding at the waiting group. "Everyone's waiting for us to finish."
Everyone was indeed waiting for them to finish their private conversation.
Alia unrolled a parchnt and addressed the remaining students. "Those joining will need to sign their nas, promising not to reveal what this group is or what it will do."
Gilderoy pictured Hermione in Alia's place, ticulously taking nas of Dumbledore's Army mbers. He began pacing slowly, his voice steady as he spoke to the students who stayed behind. "Now, for those who will join, we need a place to practice—a secure location, hidden from prying eyes…"
A soft shimr appeared, coalescing into a familiar wooden door: the Room of Requirent.
The students gasped, stepping closer.
"This," Gilderoy said, sweeping a hand toward the door, "will be our training ground. Here, we will practice dueling, defensive magic, and coordination. Our goal is to beco stronger."
He paused, letting their reactions settle, then added quietly,
"…this is just the beginning."
---
P.S. Power Stones, please.
Thank you Mistress Ahri for your support ❤️
I stan Lux though.
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