Gilderoy sat on one of the sofas near the fireplace in the Ravenclaw common room, staring at his schedule. The parchment was wrinkled from being folded and unfolded too many times, its edges soft from handling.
Ancient Runes.
He, or rather the previous Lockhart, had chosen the subject in third year because it sounded impressive. "Gilderoy Lockhart, taking Ancient Runes" had a certain ring to it, the kind of ring that suggested depth and intellect he had never actually possessed. Gilderoy's memories showed him coasting through the classes, copying notes from better students, memorising just enough to scrape a passing grade and never thinking about the subject again.
And now Gilderoy had to suffer due to the incompetence of the old one.
Dammit, I don't know how I'm going to pass the NEWTs for this subject. I've already almost covered the other subjects, and it's March, only two months to the exam. Well, better late than never.
Amelia appeared at his elbow, her presence familiar and comforting. She was already dressed in her robes, her hair pulled back in the bun she used to wear during classes, her expression curious.
"We skipped so many elective classes, Gil. Let's go to classes today. It's Ancient Runes now."
Seventh years were exempted from attending elective classes but still had to sit through all the main ones: Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, History of Magic, and Astronomy. Gilderoy had initially found this concept new, as he never remembered reading about it in the Harry Potter books, but he had taken full advantage of it, using the time to strengthen his duelling skills.
So he had started studying way too late, only in late January. But he was far behind on Ancient Runes. Initially, he had indeed thought of attending Ancient Runes classes from the very beginning, but it would have meant his duelling time would decrease. So he had chosen duelling instead. On top of that, he had received an official letter from the ICW just now.
____________________
Office of Regional Director, ICW British Branch
47B Charing Cross Road, London
(Directly across from the Ministry of Magic)
2nd March 1980
To: Mr. Gilderoy Lockhart
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
RE: ICW Trainee Agent Program – Qualification Requirements
Dear Mr. Lockhart,
The International Confederation of Wizards, British Branch, wishes to formally acknowledge your recent application to the ICW Trainee Agent Program, submitted on your behalf by our field agent following your successful preliminary assessment.
As you may be aware, the ICW maintains strict academic standards for all candidates seeking international postings. While your initial assessment was favourable, we wish to draw your attention to the academic requirements necessary for final acceptance into the program. Candidates from Britain must achieve the following minimum grades in their NEWT examinations:
Core Subjects (Minimum of 'Exceeds Expectations' required):
Defense Against the Dark Arts
Charms
Transfiguration
Potions
Herbology
Elective Subjects (Minimum of 'Acceptable' required):
Ancient Runes (Mandatory)
History of Magic (Recommended)
Muggle Studies (Recommended)
Please note that Ancient Runes has been identified as a mandatory requirement for the Trainee Agent Program. Failure to achieve the minimum grade will result in automatic disqualification from the program.
Furthermore, acceptance into the Trainee Agent Program is conditional upon successful completion of your NEWT examinations. Candidates who achieve the required grades will be invited to sit for the ICW's own entrance examinations, which are conducted independently of the Ministry. While the Ministry certifies your academic qualifications within Britain, the ICW requires its own separate assessment to ensure candidates meet our international standards. Passing the Ministry's examinations alone does not guarantee acceptance into the program; you must also pass the ICW's entrance exams to be considered for the position.
The ICW, as an independent body operating in cooperation with the British Ministry of Magic, oversees all international certifications and qualifications for wizards seeking to work outside their home country. The Ministry's own requirements are separate and do not supersede ICW standards for international postings.
We strongly advise that you focus your remaining study time accordingly. The NEWT examinations are scheduled to commence in June. Should you require any clarification regarding the above requirements, please do not hesitate to contact this office.
We wish you the best of luck in your upcoming examinations.
Yours sincerely,
Edmund P. Whitfield
Regional Director
ICW British Branch
____________________
Well, this doesn't surprise me. I mean, it's the ICW. Well, I have to go to Ancient Runes class now, haven't I?
The Ancient Runes classroom was tucked away on the sixth floor, near a tapestry depicting a battle between what appeared to be a giant and a very angry badger. The room itself was small compared to the grand lecture halls of other subjects, intimate and slightly cluttered, with shelves lining every wall and stacks of parchment threatening to topple from every available surface.
The students who gathered there were a select few, mostly Ravenclaws and a handful of studious Hufflepuffs. They sat in loose clusters, their voices low, their attention already fixed on their textbooks.
Gilderoy scanned the room, his gaze moving past familiar faces he'd seen in passing but never spoken to. Then his eyes caught on a girl near the front, already hunched over her parchment, her quill moving in quick, precise strokes.
He'd seen her before. Her dark hair was untamed and wild, escaping from a loose knot at the back of her head in wayward curls, and her fingers were stained with ink, the kind of permanent stain that came from hours of writing.
Her face was delicate but sharp, with high cheekbones and a jaw that suggested stubbornness, and when she looked up briefly at Amelia's greeting, her eyes were a striking shade of grey, framed by dark lashes. She was pretty. The kind of pretty that crept up on you, the more you looked.
Amelia nodded to the girl in greeting as they passed, and the girl returned the gesture before bending back over her work.
"She's in your house," Amelia murmured as they found seats near the back. "She's been in United since the beginning."
"I didn't even know she was part of United." Gilderoy felt a pang of embarrassment. "Damn, I feel bad now."
"That's because you're too busy teaching lower years," Amelia said. "She's quiet. Keeps to herself. But she's brilliant."
"Brilliant?"
Amelia's expression was matter-of-fact. "She's top of this class, Gil. Always has been. She's the one I borrow notes from when I'm stuck."
Gilderoy filed that information away, his gaze lingering on the girl's hunched form. Top of the class. Exactly who I need.
The door opened with a sharp click, and Professor Mafalda Tofty swept into the room.
She was small and sharp-featured, with grey hair pulled back in an immaculate bun and spectacles perched on the end of her nose. Her robes were simple and practical, and her expression suggested she had no tolerance for fools. She was the granddaughter of the famous Professor Tofty from the Wizarding Examinations Authority, Amelia had mentioned that once, and she carried herself with the same no-nonsense authority.
"Good morning," she announced, her voice crisp. "We'll be continuing our work on protective enchantments today. The runic sequences we discussed last week will be central to our discussion of warding structures."
She turned to the blackboard, her chalk moving in quick, efficient strokes. Runic symbols began to appear, complex and interwoven.
Gilderoy watched, his eyes tracking the symbols, but his mind was already slipping as Professor Tofty began her explanations. He tried to recall from the previous Lockhart's memories of all those years of classes, tried to make connections, but it was like trying to read a language he had only heard spoken once.
This is hopeless, he thought, his gaze dropping to his blank parchment. I don't even know where to start.
He glanced sideways at the grey haired girl's notes. They were meticulous, annotated and cross-referenced, with small drawings in the margins that clarified the symbols' meanings. The handwriting was small and precise, the work of someone who had spent years mastering her craft.
He looked back at his own empty page and felt a wave of something between frustration and despair. The original Lockhart had only memorised everything, somehow passing without understanding a single thing.
I need help.
The lesson ended with a stack of homework that Gilderoy had no idea how to complete. Students began to pack up their things, the room filling with the sounds of shuffling parchment and quiet conversation. The grey-haired girl was already packing, her movements efficient and unhurried.
Gilderoy caught her just as she reached the door.
"Hey. Can I ask you something?"
She turned, her expression curious. Up close, he could see her pretty face, the faint smudge of ink on her cheek, the sharp intelligence in her dark eyes.
"Hello, Gilderoy," she said, a small smile playing at her lips. "I know who you are. The one who won Ravenclaw the Quidditch Cup. I've been in your United group for months."
He winced. "I know. I just... I saw you in United. I never properly introduced myself to each member."
"You introduced yourself to everyone in the first session at least," she pointed out. "You made a whole speech. It was very dramatic."
"Right." He rubbed the back of his neck.
"You have no idea who I am, do you?"
The words were blunt but not unkind. There was no accusation in her voice, only a sort of wry acceptance.
"I'm sorry," he admitted. "I should have—"
She waved it off. "It's fine. I'm not exactly memorable. I'm the quiet one in the back who never says anything."
"You're the one Amelia borrows notes from."
The girl blinked, clearly surprised. "Amelia said that?"
"She said you're top of the class. Always have been."
A faint flush crept into her cheeks. "I just like the subject. It's like solving puzzles—translations, symbols, the way magic is encoded in writing. It makes sense to me."
She extended her hand. "I'm Bathsheda. Bathsheda Babbling."
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