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Child's Play

Quickdraw

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thanks to Haggridd for his most excellent Beta skills and steadfast moral support.

"CHILD'S PLAY"

Chapter Three

"Beware of false prophets, which come to

you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly are

ravening wolves."

-Matthew 7:15

*****

"If you go out in the woods today
You're sure of a big surprise,"

Harry Potter sang as he reached into his old carpetbag and pulled out a stuffed bear, a rather ordinary looking little fellow, the kind you'd find at any five & dime store. Harry set the bear down in the middle of the stage, then returned to the carpetbag and began pulling out more, arranging them in a semi-circle facing the audience.

"If you go out in the woods today
You'd better go in disguise,"

He glanced out past the enraptured faces of his audience to the back of the Fellowship Hall. Reverend Gilderoy Lockhart was holding court with a small bevy of attractive young ladies who were far more engrossed in him than they were in Harry's efforts on stage. It came as no surprise to Harry that the congregation of Lockhart's Amazing Grace church was predominantly female.

"For every bear that ever there was
Will gather there for certain, because,

Today's the day
The teddy bears have their picnic."

"I don't know how the man does it, Harry," his friend Father Paul Osborn had reflected the previous day. Not wanting to walk into the Lion's Den unprepared, Harry had gone to the one man in London who had the dirt on all his fellow clergymen. "He's a boozer, a gambler and a skirt chaser, and yet he always manages to pack 'em in the pews every Sunday. Lord knows he's been taking a bite out of our attendance."

"Jealous, Father?"

"Envy is a mortal sin, my boy," the old priest admonished with a twinkle in his eye. "I was merely thinking of all the lost sheep that could have been brought into to the fold if I'd been granted even one-tenth the charisma of `Good-Time' Gilderoy Lockhart." Father Osborn had been one of the earliest supporters of Harry's magic career and had been of immeasurable help in advising which charities could best benefit from his sponsorship. "In my day I've met saints, charlatans and everything in between, Harry. Lockhart's not an evil man. Much as I hate to admit it, I kind of like the guy. Before all these so-called `miracles' started, he was a harmless enough snake-oil salesman. But since he's moved into the big leagues, he's been hanging around with a bad crowd." A soccer ball rolled up to their feet. Father Osborn hiked up his cassock. Catching the ball between his feet, he kicked it up into the air and juggled it a few times before kicking it back into play. "Now where were we, Harry?"

"You were about to tell me what the Bible says about `show offs'."

"Ev'ry Teddy Bear who's been good
Is sure of a treat today."

Harry pulled out a miniature picnic blanket, which he set out on the stage floor in front of the assembled furry picnickers. The first bear Harry had set down suddenly jumped to its feet and started singing the next verse in a friendly cartoon voice.


"There's lots of marvelous things to eat
And wonderful games to play."

Harry then pulled out a teapot, cups and saucers, and handed them to the bear, who distributed them to his furry friends. Then Harry joined in singing.

"Beneath the trees where nobody sees
They'll hide and seek as long as they please

Cause that's the way the
Teddy Bears have their picnic."

Harry took a quick look off-stage. Ron was in his usual spot in the wings to work the various "Muggle" illusions Harry occasionally used, but Hermione and Ron's wife Victoria were nowhere to be seen.

***********

"If you go down to the woods today,
You'd better not go alone!"

"I really wish you would have let me handle this, Hermione…" Victoria Weasley looked around nervously. For the moment, at least, the church hallways were empty. Everyone was in the Fellowship Hall watching Harry's performance. "You really don't need to be playing Charlie's Angels with `Junior' ready to make his grand entrance at any moment."

"Believe me, I'd much rather be home soaking in a nice hot bath right about now." Hermione took out her wand. "Unfortunately, being a Muggle, you can't do this-Alohamora!"

The door to Reverend Lockhart's office swung open.

"True." Victoria pushed the door open and let Hermione step inside. "But least nobody wants to burn me at the stake-except maybe my mother-in-law."


"It's lovely down in the woods today,
But safer to stay at home!"

***********

Harry had warned them not to try anything foolish without consulting either Ron or himself first. He should have known better-particularly after Hermione had read the paper that morning:

MEMBER OF PARLIAMENT CALLS FOR NEW WITCH TRIALS

..the headline in the Times had screamed. True, the reporter didn't seem to take the story very seriously, but there it was:

"…The Honorable Mr. Lucius Malfoy, M.P., formerly with the Ministry of Sanitation, held a news conference to urge the Speaker to begin an immediate inquiry into the spread of Satanism and the Occult in Britain. While the distinguished Member declined to name names at this time, he claimed to have conclusive proof of the use of black magic by certain prominent individuals, including members of the government, the Civil Service and the wife of a prominent television personality… further revelations would be forthcoming…"

"There's also another article about the break-in at your flat," George Weasley had told them as the twin bellhops set out Harry and Hermione's complimentary newspaper and continental breakfast on the balcony of the Honeymoon Suite. "It's pretty much a `puff piece'. They barely mention the graffiti."

The Honeymoon Suite of the Dorchester Hotel was just as big and just as decadent as it had been when Harry and Hermione first stayed there. Harry had insisted they get out of their flat after it had been vandalized. They had decided that instead of trying to put everything back where it was, they would simply pack it all up and put it in storage until their new house was ready for them to move in. Ron and Victoria Weasley had very kindly offered to let them stay at their flat in the meantime, but Hermione had decided that they needed a little pampering again.

"I guess Harry's efforts for the Police Benevolence Society were worth something after all," Hermione noted. "At least no one's managed to link the two stories together-yet!"

"They also mention that there were three other families attacked in the last week that followed the same pattern." Fred pointed out. "Something very nasty is going on out there, Harry."

"Malfoy?" Harry scratched his head. " Is that-?"

"His Father," sighed Hermione.

"We used to have endless fun with Dennis callin' 'is dad `The Duke o' Dustbins'!" Fred grinned.

Harry shook his head. "Wasn't he wizard… before?"

"He was also a traitor." Harry had never seen such hatred in Hermione's eyes. "He was secretly working for the Dark Lord all the time he was on the Board of Governors of Hogwarts." Her anger was suddenly replaced by a smile that sent a chill up the others' spines. "He was one of the few traitors who truly got what he deserved." Hermione had not elaborated any further that morning and Harry, Fred and George had taken a silent vote not to pursue the topic any further.

"For every bear that ever there was
Will gather there for certain, because
Today's the day the
Teddy Bears have their picnic."

As the chorus began, the remaining bears jumped up, joined paws and began to dance in a circle. As they broke from the circle, Harry joined in and led them in a procession around the stage. Every so often, the more enthusiastic bears would turn cartwheels. At the very end of the line was a bear about half the size of the others who could never quite manage a cartwheel without falling on his furry little bum. Eventually, he became distracted by the audience and stopped to wave and blow kisses at the children in the front row-until he realized how far he'd fallen behind his comrades and scrambled to catch up.

"Picnic time for teddy bears
The little teddy bears are
Having a lovely time today"

Lockhart's office was just as big, and just as tacky as Hermione expected. That orange carpet had to go, for a start! One whole wall consisted of neo-gothic stained glass windows. The rear wall behind the mahogany desk was dominated by a huge oil painting of the man himself, Bible in hand, eyebrow cocked, and a "You know you love me, baby!" grin on his smug face. On the remaining walls were hung pictures of the smirking clergyman shaking hands with the great, the near great, and Ana Nicole Smith.

"So, what exactly are we looking for, Hermione?" Victoria asked in a hushed whisper.

"I have no idea."

"Well, that should make it easy to find…" Victoria sighed.

Hermione pulled open a desk drawer.

"I think we just found it."

Inside was a brand new magic wand.

"I found the old woman in Portobello Road, too, Mrs. Potter." Lockhart casually walked in and closed the door behind him. Hermione and Victoria tried to appear calm as their hearts each nearly went into cardiac arrest.

"Watch them, catch them unawares
And see them picnic on their holiday"

Harry picked up the carpetbag and set it down on one end of the stage so the procession could march back from whence they came.

"See them gaily gad about
They love to play and shout,
They never have any cares,

At six o'clock their mommies and daddies
Will take them home to bed
Because they're tired little teddy bears"

The littlest bear was still showing off, doing his best to keep from surrendering the spotlight, until the music stopped and the only sound was Harry impatiently tapping his foot. Reluctantly, the little fellow finally tramped into the carpetbag, blowing one final kiss and giving one final wave to the audience before disappearing inside.

The audience ate it up.

"Now," Harry said as he took of his wizard's hat and rolled up his oversized sleeves, "Does anyone here believe in magic…?

************

"Say what you will about old Miss Price, she does know her wands." Reverend Lockhart settled into the big leather chair behind his desk. "Did she tell you her big World War II story?"

"You mean, how she single-handedly turned back a German invasion force by enchanting a bunch of medieval armor from a museum? She tells everyone that story. Did she try and sell you `The Star Of Asteroth'?"

"No, but she did try to sell me an enchanted bed knob once. I never did figure out what it was supposed to do." Lockhart held out his hand and Hermione handed over his wand. "I hope you don't mind, but I did a bit of name-dropping when I went to see her. I kind of let her assume that you and Harry had sent me."

Lockhart pointed his wand at the huge mahogany desk and it slowly rose into the air. Underneath, set into the floor was the door to a safe. Another flick of the wand and the dial spun itself into the proper combination. The door flew open. Lockhart reached in and pulled out a large spiral bound notebook.

"I assume this is what you were looking for."

"My journal!" Hermione flipped through the pages to be certain it was hers. "How did you get this?"

"Would you believe I found it? I just happened to be a guest at a birthday party where Harry was performing. Of course, it was a total fluke that I was there to begin with-but that's been the story of my life!"

************

A few hours later the church was virtually deserted. Only, the Potters, the Weasleys, and Reverend Lockhart remained.

"You have no idea how finding that notebook changed my life!" With a gesture Lockhart levitated the gold cigar box from his desk over to Harry. "Of course, I know I'm not up to your level, Harry-or yours, Mrs. Potter."

The lid opened obligingly. Harry knew little about cigars, but he was sure that they were expensive-Cuban most likely. Harry waved his hand dismissively. Ron took a cigar and stuffed it into his vest pocket, earning himself a dirty look from Victoria.

"I knew I was different right from the beginning," Lockhart told them, "Things just naturally-perhaps I should say, supernaturally-seemed to go my way. The one and only fight I ever got into in grammar school, the school bully tripped over his own shoelaces and broke his collarbone. I don't know whether I should be so indiscreet in front of the ladies," he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, "but the very first time I was ever intimate with a young lady, her parents got lost coming back from the pictures and didn't make it home until the next morning. I knew I had a gift, but I didn't know what it was or how to control it-until I found your notebook. Almost instinctively, I knew this was what I had been looking for. If you don't mind my saying so, Mrs. Potter, You have a real gift for writing."

"You're too kind."

"It isn't idle flattery. You give clear, concise instructions for even the most complicated spells. It's a genuine talent." Lockhart took a cigar for himself, snapped his fingers and it lit spontaneously. "Just look what you helped me to accomplish," he gestured to Hermione's enlarged abdomen, "in less than six months!"

Hermione silently cringed at the thought.

Lockhart took a long, luxurious drag and said, "I suppose the question is, `What happens now?'"

"Well, you can't keep on using magic to fool the public," Harry said.

"Why not?" asked Lockhart rather insolently. "Isn't that what you're doing, Harry?"
"I'm not lying to people-"

"Aren't you?" Lockhart blew a puff of smoke, which formed into the shimmying figure of a Hawaiian hula dancer. "Aren't you lying every day when you go around pretending to be one of them; pretending that the miracles you make are all done with smoke and mirrors; that somehow even if the audience doesn't know what it is, there's a logical, rational explanation for everything you do?"

"It's not quite the same thing," Harry said. "I'm an entertainer. I don't promise them a free ticket to heaven."

"But is that really lying? I see myself as giving them hope!" Lockhart shrugged. "It might even be the truth for all I know."

"But how can you preach something when you don't believe it yourself?" Victoria asked.

"Does it really matter what I believe?" The hula girl was obliterated as she passed the air-conditioning vent. "I'd always understood that it's what's in a person's heart that counts. If they believe it, what difference does it make whether I believe it or not?" Lockhart got up and opened a large wooden cabinet. Inside was an incredibly well stocked bar. He picked up a glass and looked around to see if anyone cared to join him. Another dirty look from Victoria assured that there were no takers.

"A long time ago, people like me learned that religion is very nearly the perfect consumer product-at least as far as the salesman is concerned. It's practically foolproof. If anything goes wrong, God is the perfect fall guy." He switched to his pious/sympathetic voice, "`It just wasn't God's Will, my dear…'"

"Or it's the person's own fault," Ron nodded. "They weren't praying hard enough."

"Exactly! You understand, too. Don't you, Harry?"

"I understand that men like you have been using religion to take advantage of a lot of good, decent people over the years."

"Have I really? Look, if there really is a heaven, I figure people like Minerva Smith have already got a front row seat. Even if I roast in hell, that's not going to change. All I've done is `redirect' their energies a little. If their labors earn them a place among the saints and make my life a little more pleasant in the process, then I figure it's a win-win proposition for all of us!" Lockhart finished helping himself to a drink. "You don't do healings, do you?"

Harry shook his head. Hermione was the one with the real knack for healing, but Harry said nothing. He wasn't going to give Lockhart any more information that he might be able to turn around and use against them later.

"Pity. That's the one thing I really wish I were good at. I mean I can do some basic stuff, but nothing fancy. I figure if I could make just one blind person see or cure the odd cripple here and there, I'd be set for life!" He remembered something just as he started to take a sip of his drink, "I did manage to turn water into wine a couple of weeks ago! You've no idea how well that goes over with the unwashed masses. I bet if we put our heads together, you and I could come up with miracles that would make the parting of the Red Sea look like an old Doctor Who episode!"

Harry started to get up. "I don't think so."

"I understand you did the `Floating Wand' trick tonight."

Harry froze.

"Yes."

"Didn't quite go as planned, did it?"

"The wand seemed to get-I don't know-confused. It was as if-"

"As if there were more than one person in the congregation with magical abilities?" Lockhart smiled. "Almost a third of them, Harry. One-third." His grin grew to Cheshire Cat proportions. "I've been a busy boy too."

Now he had Harry's undivided attention.

Lockhart threw a copy of the Times on his desk.

"We're living in dangerous times, Harry. You've seen the reports of attacks in the papers! In addition to the potential profits-or prophets, take your pick -this church could also serve as a refuge-a sanctuary-for people like us! You're a magician! You know all about the need for proper staging-and the use of misdirection! Where is the last place in the world people would think to look for wizards and witches? A church!"

"He may be onto something, Harry." Ron said into his friend's ear. "This could be just the way to start that school of yours, without attracting undue attention."

"If you were to feed five thousand people with nothing but a couple of loaves and fishes as part of your act, the public would call it black magic-but if I do it as part of a church service, they'd call it a miracle. It's all in the presentation." Lockhart leaned back in his big leather chair and took another long drag of his cigar. "If you stop and think about it, how do we know that the fellow who first performed that particular trick wasn't one of us all along?"

****

"You're tempted, aren't you?" Hermione asked, finally breaking the long silence as they drove home.

"I'm tempted by the idea of a sanctuary," Harry confessed. "But I'm still not convinced that we can trust Lockhart. Hermione, you knew him from before…"

"I think we can trust Lockhart to act in his own best interests. If his best interests just happen to coincide with ours…" She shrugged. "Dennis Malfoy is the one we really have to watch."

"I noticed you didn't say anything about Malfoy Senior," Ron said.

"Neither did Lockhart. He just took it for granted we believed him when he said Dennis wasn't responsible for the break-ins."

"The Old Man might not have anything to do with them," Ron pointed out. "The way I heard it, he and Dennis never got on all that well."

"Well, if he didn't break into our flat on orders from his dad, then he did it on orders from Lockhart-why else would Lockhart lie for them?"

"They could be blackmailing him." Victoria suggested. "Given Lockhart's lifestyle, it's not outside the realm of possibility."

"Maybe…" Harry said. "But until we know for sure what's going on, we can't afford to trust any of them."

End of Chapter Three

See "Have We Met" by Quickdraw at www.astronomytower.org

"The Teddy Bears Picnic" Music and Lyrics by Jimmy Kennedy