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School rules probably didn't apply to Aurors. Especially not to a powerful Auror glaring at you with clear displeasure.
Even Filch seemed intimidated by Mad-Eye's menacing appearance. He grumbled unhappily and shuffled off, no longer muttering about ankle-shackling, ceiling-dangling, or cabinets full of spikes.
"Tch!" Mad-Eye spat contemptuously, his voice a low growl. "Sneaky little rat." He stared at Filch's retreating back, his magical eye whirring furiously in its socket. Anthony wasn't sure if that was the magical equivalent of rolling it.
"You've known him for decades, Alastor," Kingsley said, pulling a pocket watch from his robes and checking it. "We should be going."
"I've disliked him since the day I met him," Mad-Eye scoffed. "That's saying something…" He swiveled his magical eye, suspiciously scanning the suits of armor lining the wall.
Just then, the door of a nearby classroom groaned open. Dolores Umbridge's artificial, girlish voice drifted through the crack. Mad-Eye's expression twisted into a mixture of disgust, wariness, and a flicker of predatory excitement. He looked like a man edging a slipper towards a fly on a windowsill.
"…and you'll receive this survey report after we see the O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. results… oh, and a consolidated report on all investigations, my dear." The crack widened slightly. Stubby, ring-laden fingers rested on the inside doorknob. "I must say, however, I fear the outcome won't be terribly favorable. We were rather dismayed to find you made absolutely no adjustments to your teaching based on feedback during the entire observation period."
"Oh, Dolores," said Gilderoy Lockhart's voice. "Such an uncharitable accusation! You know I am always eager to absorb constructive criticism…"
Umbridge interrupted him sweetly. "Then I trust you understand the consequences of ignoring it. I'm quite looking forward to this year's Defence Against the Dark Arts pass rates. I'm sure it will serve as a reminder to the other professors."
She pushed the door fully open and stepped out, a sickeningly smug smile plastered on her face.
That look of self-satisfaction faded a little when she saw Scrimgeour, Mad-Eye, and Kingsley. But a moment later, an even more artificial smile was piled onto her features.
"Rufus? What a pleasant surprise to see you here. Though unexpected, of course—oh, Kingsley!" She made a show of looking around, feigning surprise. "And Mr. Moody! Is something the matter?"
Mad-Eye said nothing. Scrimgeour gave a dry chuckle. "Just that business, Umbridge. Hmm. Good. We're on our way. See you at the Ministry."
"Oh, that business," Umbridge said, her head tilting slightly with suspicion. "But if it concerns matters within Hogwarts… you know I'm the High Inquisitor, yes? You could always—"
"Henry!" Lockhart said cheerfully, squeezing out from between Umbridge and the doorframe. "I see you've invigilated the Defence O.W.L.s, haven't you? The little dears performed admirably, I trust? Hah! One can't expect them to fend off an entire swarm of Lethifolds single-handedly like I did, of course, but with the right little tricks, they should have impressed the examiners…"
"Practical exams are this afternoon, Professor Lockhart," Anthony reminded him.
"I'm well aware," Lockhart said, frowning. "What's gotten into you, Henry? You don't think I'd be so busy I'd forget my students' exam schedule, do you? How little you think of me! Granted, others might find my schedule unimaginable… writing books, responding to fan mail, declining interview requests, offering guidance to eager young adventurers, solving Defence-related conundrums from across the globe, all while preparing my students for their exams… but for Gilderoy Lockhart, it's a mere trifle. You should have seen me in Bulgaria…"
"We really must be going," Scrimgeour said firmly.
Umbridge chimed in instantly. "Allow me to see you out."
Scrimgeour hesitated, but Umbridge had already adopted an implacable stance, falling into step beside him. Kingsley nodded at Umbridge and followed Scrimgeour down the corridor. Mad-Eye limped after them, his magical eye still sweeping the castle with profound distrust.
Anthony pretended he'd also just decided to get some fresh air and followed. He fervently hoped Lockhart would abandon his plan to walk with them, given Umbridge's presence. Mad-Eye had already shot him several baleful glares. But Lockhart just spoke louder, more enthusiastically, as if trying to draw Scrimgeour away from his conversation with Umbridge.
"…oh, such a pitiful sight, I can scarcely bear to recall it…"
Kingsley slowed his pace slightly, falling in step with Mad-Eye. "Noticed anything of interest?"
"…if I hadn't happened upon the scene…"
Perhaps believing Anthony couldn't possibly hear them over Lockhart's monologue, Mad-Eye grumbled under his breath. "Everywhere. Odd statues. Walls I can't see through. Translucent rooms. A mess of pipes. Cabinets full of junk… This is why I hate coming to Hogwarts. I told Albus years ago he should give this castle a proper clear-out."
"…what else could I do? I couldn't possibly turn a blind eye. So I drew my wand…"
Kingsley asked, "Can you see his office?"
"Nothing we're looking for," Mad-Eye said.
"…a simple charm, that's all. Simple, but effective…"
"The one next to it," Kingsley clarified. "Defence Against the Dark Arts."
Mad-Eye stopped walking. As Lockhart, still holding forth, passed the two men, Anthony couldn't help but glance back. Mad-Eye's normal eye was half-closed in concentration. The magical one was rolled upward, as if seeing straight through the ceiling to the floor above.
Suddenly, Mad-Eye's normal eye snapped open, glaring at Anthony. "What are you looking at?" The electric-blue magical eye spun back to fix on him.
"Nothing," Anthony said quickly, hurrying a few steps forward. Meanwhile, Lockhart was describing how he'd dunked some unfortunate, unnamed dark creature (Anthony hadn't even caught the name) into a kitchen sink.
"Of course, Rufus, I'll pass that along to the Minister," Umbridge simpered, not bothering to lower her voice. "I was planning to return and discuss my findings with him this Monday."
She made no attempt to be discreet. Either she didn't care who heard, or she, too, believed no one could possibly hear her over Lockhart's ceaseless chatter.
If she'd been on better terms with the rest of Hogwarts' staff, someone might have told her that after nearly a year of training, every professor had learned to tune out their dear colleague's background noise to hear the conversations they were actually interested in. If she'd been on better terms with Lockhart himself, she might have discovered this.
"I'm sure he can't wait," Scrimgeour said flatly.
"I believe that's quite true," Umbridge said amiably. "Some would call it shocking. Others—the wiser sort—might say it was inevitable. At the very least, it proves the need for oversight at Hogwarts… necessary oversight, of course. To prune away that which shouldn't be…"
Scrimgeour cut in, sounding impatient. "To preserve what is valuable, burnish tradition, and let the glorious light of wizardkind shine once more. I've heard the speech, Umbridge."
Lockhart began recounting how he'd subdued a ferocious three-headed dog with a limp and gifted it as a pet to an elderly French wizard.
Anthony heard Kingsley ask, "No Foe-Glasses either? Not even alchemical products?"
"No, no, nothing," Mad-Eye said. "Cleaner than a Muggle house. Just a mountain of paper… What sort of adventurer is that?" He snorted derisively, loudly enough that Anthony didn't need to strain to hear.
Silence fell between the two men behind him.
"What about that Anthony?" Kingsley murmured. "Is he trustworthy?"
Anthony pricked up his ears, but over the steady thump-drag of Mad-Eye's limp, he heard nothing.
Mad-Eye must have made some gesture. Kingsley said, "That's not entirely surprising."
"He's got quite a collection of interesting items," Mad-Eye rasped. "But, tch, I know what Albus would say…"
"Don't fret so much, Alastor, you're retired. Besides, I thought searching for dark objects was Madam Umbridge's job."
"Her? She couldn't tell the difference between Sturgis's hat and a beheading cap if you put them right in front of her. But she's noticed something… she was awfully certain when she told us where to find Anthony's dark magic traces."
"Right. Find anything in that lavatory?"
"A line of toilets, if that's what you're asking," Mad-Eye said darkly. "And a twitchy ghost who died from that Basilisk. It'd be strange if there wasn't a hint of dark magic there."
"The lavatory where Myrtle Warren died? That explains it."
Mad-Eye grumbled, low and irritable. "You'd have realized that too if you'd shut your trap and walked in instead of standing outside with Rufus spouting nonsense about 'it's the girls' lavatory'!"
"We didn't think you'd actually go in," Kingsley said calmly. "For you, it's just a glance."
Mad-Eye sounded even more annoyed. "No amount of remote detection beats going and checking for yourself! How many great wizards blew themselves up with their own experiments because they forgot that? And I do not spy on student lavatories!"
Lockhart turned his head. "Oh? Who blew themselves up? What a pity I wasn't there! Why, I once found several wizards in a Cairo cellar. They'd only wanted to study a mummy, you see…"
Scrimgeour said dismissively to Umbridge, "Yes, yes, we're keeping an eye on it… waiting for the right moment. But our eyes are on the surface… like… er, crocodiles in the Nile…"
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