Written by: Ashley J. White
Prolouge
“Very bad news, Karkaroff. Very bad. I feel terrible. But I must tell you,” said Cornelius Fudge, leader of the Ministry of Magic who always had a habit of repeating words in his sentence.
Karkaroff, who was headmaster of the magic school, Durmstrang, was sitting in his office when Cornelius came in. Karkaroff had a very dark office. The walls were painted a dull blue that contained shelves and shelves of books, each shelf ending with an old-fashioned candlestick holding a dull-lit candle.
Headmaster Karkaroff was the worst when taking in bad news, especially news from the Ministry. Bad news always brought back shameful memories of his past. So it was no surprise to Cornelius when he saw Karkaroff jump out of his seat, his face turning very pale. “What happened?” Karkaroff asked, his voice shaking. “I hope everything at the Ministry is going well!”
Cornelius shook his head and held a hand up to stop Karkaroff’s blabbering. “Nothing to do with the Ministry. Nothing at all. I need to speak with one of your students. Terrible tragedy in the family. Very terrible.”
Karkaroff nodded and looked relieved, “Of course. I’ll notify Viktor Krum at once.”
Karkaroff was about to leave when Cornelius shook his head again. “Not Krum, headmaster. The other celebrity in your school. Famous author Gilderoy Lockhart has had a bad case of amnesia. The memory charm has gotten to him. I must speak with his only family. Please bring me to his nephew.”
Karkaroff was silent for a moment. Gilderoy Lockhart lost his memory? It sounded so ridiculous! Lockhart’s nephew was one of Karkaroff’s prized students. But that value was starting to wear off.
The dark headmaster finally cleared his throat and nodded, “Yes, yes, of course. I’ll show you to the lad. I believe he is at Quidditch practice.”
Cornelius smiled, but it was a sad smile. “Very well. I hate to bear bad news and I hate to see the boy’s face when he finds out.” Fudge paused, “Wait a second, did you say he was at Quidditch practice?”
Karkaroff once again turned pale. He slowly nodded his head, “Yes, I said that. Why?”
“Well, if I am not mistaken, I thought his uncle made him quit the Quidditch team?”
“Really?” Karkaroff squeaked, “I didn’t hear that. It must have been a rumor.”
Fudge nodded, “Alright. It must have been.”
“Well,” Karkaroff said heading towards the door, “It’s now or never. We must tell him sometime.”
“Yes, we have to tell him now. We don’t have a choice.” Fudge replied walking out of the room.
Karkaroff scowled behind Fudge’s back and left as well.