The Contract

Lockhart's office fell silent.

The confession hung between them, stripped of glitter and applause. Edmund did not speak at once. Lockhart, for once, had no speech prepared.

Finally Edmund said, "Will you allow me to examine your magic?"

Lockhart blinked. "What?"

"I want to see what is actually wrong with it."

Hope appeared in Lockhart's face before he could hide it. "Yes. Of course."

Edmund touched his wand to Lockhart's arm and sent a thread of magic into him.

The result was strange. Lockhart's total magic was not as low as his performance suggested. It was there, but still and lifeless, like water trapped under ice. No wonder ordinary spells failed him.

Edmund conjured a mouse on the desk. "Use a Memory Charm on it."

Lockhart obeyed.

"Obliviate."

White light flashed. The mouse went blank and still.

During the spell, Lockhart's magic changed. It moved freely, almost like that of any normal wizard.

"You were talented with Memory Charms even at school?" Edmund asked.

"Very," Lockhart said, with a trace of old pride. "I could modify or remove specific memories quite early."

Edmund understood.

Magic in this world was tied deeply to will, confidence, and belief. Lockhart no longer believed in his own magic. His power had become inert because he expected it to fail. Memory Charms still worked because he trusted them completely.

"Magic did not abandon you," Edmund said. "You stopped believing in magic."

Lockhart stared at him. The words seemed to hurt more than the accusation of theft.

Edmund considered what to do with him. Lockhart was a fraud, undeniably. He had stolen reputations, erased memories, and built a career on other people's courage. But he had not murdered those people. His sins were ugly, useful, and not especially personal to Edmund.

Eventually, Edmund made his choice. He would take him.

Lockhart's reputation inside Hogwarts had cracked, but outside the school, he remained famous. If that fame was rebuilt and directed, he could become a figure of real influence. The wizarding world was easily impressed by presentation. Lockhart understood presentation better than most.

Edmund took out a contract and placed it on the desk.

"Sign this," he said, "and I will help you regain the use of your magic."

Lockhart did not hesitate. He took the quill, wrote his name, and looked at Edmund with naked anticipation.

Edmund collected the contract. "Follow me." He returned to Ravenclaw Tower long enough to retrieve his trunk, then brought Lockhart inside.

Lockhart stared at the expanded space like a child seeing his first shop window. "You have a spatial trunk this large? Mine cost a fortune, and it is nowhere near-"

"I made it."

Lockhart wisely shut up. Edmund led him into the laboratory.

"Lie down. I am going to modify you."

Lockhart obeyed, though the words made his smile flicker.

Edmund prepared a metallic liquid similar to what he had used on Hermione before. Then he explained the procedure.

"Your magic is still there. It simply refuses to answer when you cast. I will inscribe runic channels on your body. When you choose a spell, the inscriptions will draw on your magic and shape it into the effect."

Lockhart's eyes lit. "Then start."

"It will hurt," Edmund said. "Think of a Muggle tattoo, then make it worse."

"I can endure it."

Edmund took out a carving tool. Lockhart endured the first minute. After that, the screams began.

For half an hour, the small room was filled with muffled agony. Edmund eventually used Petrification and Silencing Charms to keep Lockhart from damaging himself or distracting the work. The procedure was brutal, but Lockhart had signed willingly, and Edmund had warned him.

When the final line was complete, Edmund wiped sweat from his forehead and released the restraints.

Lockhart lay on the table, drenched in sweat and blood. The floor was a mess. Edmund summoned water to clean him, then used Cleaning Charms on the room.

Only after several minutes did Lockhart manage to stand.

"Is that it?" he asked hoarsely.

There was disbelief in his voice, and fear, and hope.

"Not quite," Edmund said. "Now we test whether your body understood the lesson."

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