The Making of a Peacock

Author's Note: Thanks so much to my beta, Goodbye Rose.

The Making of a Peacock

Chapter Two: Letters

1968

A ten-year-old Gilderoy sat at his desk in the middle of his primary school classroom. He was quite a handsome child. His wavy locks were just long enough to curl flirtatiously around his collar, and his long lashes delicately framed his friendly blue eyes. It was no surprise that all the desks immediately round him were occupied by giggling girls from his class. The lesson itself was rather bland, something about multiplying fractions. He took no notice. He was busy reading one of the many secret notes that had made it's way to his desk. He recognized the loopy writing as Charlotte's, the girl sitting directly in front of him. He carefully unfolded the note and brushed the edge of the paper against Charlotte's shoulder to let her know he was reading it.

Gilderoy,

I just wanted to let you know that I think your eyes look especially blue today.

Your friend,

Charlotte

Gilderoy chuckled to himself, and glanced up at the back of Charlotte's head. Her neck was rather red, from obvious embarrassment. He leaned forward to whisper in her ear, "Thanks Charlotte, and might I add how glossy your chestnut locks are today." She started giggling furiously, and Gilderoy grinned to himself as he leaned back in his chair.

"Gilderoy," said Mrs. White, "perhaps you might be so kind as to demonstrate how to properly reduce this fraction."

"Oh, of course, Mrs. White." He slid out of his chair and marched confidently up to the front of the room. In actuality, he had no idea how to reduce the fraction. Well, no need for worry right now, just make it look good. He approached the blackboard and picked up a piece of chalk, and just for a moment, rolled it hesitantly between his fingertips. Suddenly, an idea popped into his head. He smiled and began.

"Now, I simply take this top number and..." He glanced over at Charlotte, and flashed her a brilliant smile. Charlotte's face was still flushed, and she was quite flattered that Gilderoy had shown her attention in front of the entire class.

"You, um..." she began hesitantly, "divide that number and the bottom number by four." She gave a shy little laugh. "So the answer is one sixteenth." She lowered her lashes at Gilderoy and then darted her eyes toward Mrs. White.

"Quite right Charlotte!" he said. "I'll just mark the answer down right here." And when he was finished with his loopy numbers, he turned to the teacher. "I think this is the correct answer, and what a lovely dress you're wearing, Mrs. White."

Mrs. White smiled sweetly. "Thank you Gilderoy, and you as well, Charlotte. You may take your seat."

Flattery will get you everywhere. His mother had told him that once.

~*~

On the morning of 1 May 1968, Gilderoy awoke with a smile from ear to ear. He was eleven today. He ripped the curlers out of his hair and quickly ran a brush through his waves as he excited himself further by fantasizing about his presents. He threw his robe over his pyjamas and thundered down the stairs to the kitchen.

"My goodness, Gilderoy!" his mother exclaimed, almost spilling her morning cup of tea. Although she was still wearing her silk dressing robe, he was unsurprised to find that her hair and make-up had already been carefully attended to.

"Good morning, Mum!" Gilderoy bounded over to her, and she quickly set her cup down before he threw himself into her arms.

"Well, at least I know you're loathe to hide your emotions!" Diana smiled and embraced her son. "And what reason exactly might you have for being in such a fine disposition this morning?" his mother teasingly said.

"Really, Mum, you can't tell me you've possibly forgotten." He laughed.

Diana put her hand to her chin feigning concentration. "That's right," she said, "it's May Day! How could I have forgotten?" Confusion crossed over Gilderoy's face, and then Diana's face began to contort as she tried to hold back a laugh. "But what makes this day even more special," she continued, "is that this is the day you came to me."

"Yes, of course!" He joined her laughter, then shouted, "It's GILDEROY Day!"

"I've made you a special breakfast, dear. Eat quickly so you can get ready for school. I expect you and your friends to bring home some fine-looking little Maypoles. They'll make perfect decorations for your party tonight."

Gilderoy enthusiastically scarfed down his pecan waffles - which were truly a splendid treat - then ran upstairs to wash and dress for school.

Diana went through the house picking up little odds and ends that had been left out from the previous evening. She hummed to herself as she ran over her plans for Gilderoy's birthday party that evening. She had asked him to invite ten of his classmates from school. Oddly enough, there was going to only be one boy in the lot of them. Well, she could understand. She'd always been more popular with those of the opposite gender as well.

Slowly she made her way back to the kitchen and gathered the dirty breakfast dishes into the sink. She began washing as Gilderoy bounded down the stairs again. He stopped briefly to plant a quick kiss on his mother's cheek and then dashed out the front door.

At that moment, a rather large owl landed on the ledge of the window above the sink and tapped its beak impatiently on the glass. Diana was puzzled and left the dishes to go open the back door. The owl hooted at her and dropped a brown package at her feet. On the top was a tightly rolled piece of paper. She looked inquiringly at the owl as it took off again with a flutter of its wings.

Diana picked up the parcel and brought it back to the table to finish her tea. She unrolled the paper - well, it wasn't really paper. She supposed it was more like... parchment. That was odd. She lifted her teacup to take a sip.

Diana,

Forgive me for letting the years slip by like this, but I thought it would be better for everyone involved, and most importantly, for our boy, if I stayed away. I know that little Gilderoy will be turning eleven today, and I am grieved that I cannot be there to celebrate with you. But as you can understand, I have a family here, and it would not be prudent for the public to learn of my past indiscretions.

I trust that you and the boy are not wanting for anything. I have decided to increase my monthly deposits into your account. Gilderoy is getting older and will be needing more expensive things. I've also enclosed a small gift for him. He need not know whom it is from, but I would be very grateful if you allowed him to receive it for his birthday. I hope you are well, Diana. I will always remember our time together.

Fondly,

A.

The teacup slid out of Diana's fingers and crashed to the floor.

~*~

The birthday party that evening was quite spectacular. The children ran round the yard holding their miniature maypoles aloft as the parents enjoyed relaxing conversation in the kitchen over a cup of tea. Diana truly spared no expense with this party. The house was greatly decorated (if not a bit garishly) with ribbons and streamers. There was a large painted banner in the entryway that read Happy Birthday Gilderoy!, a three-tier cake rested proudly on the kitchen table, and there was ice cream thawing in the sink.

After a while, the children entered the house, pink-faced and laughing. They all migrated to the impressive display of presents in the living room.

"Well, I think it's time for presents." Diana sighed with a smile.

The parents joined the children in the living room. It was a tight squeeze, as there were now over twenty people in the room, but Gilderoy relished all the fuss. They were all here for him. To celebrate him. He grinned as he reached for his first present.

He was sufficiently pleased with his gifts. Charlotte had given him a rather nice bottle of shampoo. Her mother was of course mortified when she saw what it was. Charlotte saw her mother's reaction and began to look a bit uncertain herself, but Gilderoy loved it. After all, she did have rather nice hair. It was always in good taste to share effective beauty products with others. The rest of his gifts were more traditional: various toys, books, and the like.

When he reached for his last gift, he was a little dismayed. It was wrapped in brown packaging paper and tied with a string. Surely his friends had more sense than to show up with a gift as dismally wrapped at that. Where was the brightly coloured paper, or the shiny bow? However, not being one to turn a gift away he proceeded to unwrap it. It was clothing by the looks of it. Excitement bubbled in his stomach. The only thing he liked getting more than beauty products was new clothes! He pulled the cloth fully from the packaging and lay it out in front of him. It was a black velvet cloak. It was... exquisite. He traced his fingers reverently along the black velvet, across the intricate brocade trim, and onto the jade silken lining.

"It's a shame his father couldn't be here tonight," Charlotte's mother said. "Did he have to work late?"

"Oh, um..." Diana stammered a bit, still revelling in the beauty of Gilderoy's new cloak, and was caught off guard by the unexpected question. "No. He... he's not with us anymore." It wasn't really a lie.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry for your loss." Charlotte's mother apologized.

"It's nothing. Shall we have some cake then?" And with that she rose from her chair and headed into the kitchen.

~*~

The weeks and months that followed settled the Lockhart household into its normal humdrum of activity. Gilderoy finished the school year with reasonably good marks - owing of course to Charlotte's exuberance for "helping" Gilderoy with his assignments. Diana returned to her frequent social outings. And things were very comfortable for a time.

In mid-July, Gilderoy was home alone one afternoon as Diana had gone into town to fetch some groceries. He was in the middle of reading one of his favourite stories about King Arthur when a tapping sound caught his attention. He looked up from his book and saw a little brown owl sitting on the ledge of the window just across from him.

"Well, hello little owl," he said. "I'm sorry, but we've no mice for you here." He lowered his eyes to the page once more.

Tap, tap, tap.

"My, you are a persistent one, aren't you?" Gilderoy smiled and walked over to the window to get a better look. Upon closer inspection, he noticed the owl had an envelope of sorts clutched in its talons. "Wherever did you get that?"

His interest had been sufficiently piqued so he went round to the door and walked outside. He was surprised the bird hadn't flown off as he approached. It just stayed on its perch watching him as he came closer.

"Well, you're a funny little thing, aren't you?" Gilderoy laughed and reached out his hand to pet the owl. It rose up and dropped the letter into Gilderoy's outstretched hand with a hoot. He looked down at the heavy envelope and was surprised to find his name on it. He hardly ever received mail - especially not in such a fashion. Yet here it was:

Mr. G. Lockhart

51 Lilac Lane

Dandee

Kent

He hurried into the house and drew out his mother's silver letter opener from her desk. Carefully he slit the envelope open and retrieved the letter inside.

Dear Mr. Lockhart,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Albus B. P. W. Dumbledore,

Headmaster

Was it real? Oh, what an adventure this would be! He would be going to a new school, and meeting new people. He looked over the list of required materials and found them rather odd. Well, if this was a joke, it was a smashing good one. He'd play along. After all, what if it wasn't a joke? Maybe he'd even get to meet Merlin from his beloved Arthur stories!

He looked out the window and saw the owl still perched on the window ledge. Mr. Dumbledore was awaiting his owl. Was this his owl? He ran back outside.

"Well, if you're my owl, then I think you ought to have a name. I think I'll call you Gawain. Yes, that seems fitting. Serve me well, Gawain, and off you go!"

The owl stared back at him and didn't move.

"What are you waiting for, Gawain? Get a move on! Your master has sent you on an important mission. You must fly far and wide to deliver a most important message!"

If the owl could have rolled its eyes, it would have. Instead it stretched out its leg toward Gilderoy. He was confused for a moment until he saw a little thong of leather tied round the owl's leg.

"Oh!" Gilderoy laughed. "I guess you'll be needing me to write a message to send with you?"

The owl flapped its wings.

"Well, all right then. Wait here." He rushed back to the desk and pulled out a fresh piece of paper. He stood there for a moment wondering what he should write. When he finally decided, he wrote in a loopy, flamboyant script:

Mr. Gilderoy Lockhart accepts your invitation.

Bringing his reply outside, the owl once again offered its leg to Gilderoy. With some finagling he managed to stuff the paper in quite securely, and watched with delight as the owl flew away.

Later that day when his mother came home he eagerly picked up his letter and brought it to her.

"Mum, I've had a letter today," he said as he handed it to her.

"Oh really, darling. That's nice," she replied absently as she began putting away groceries with one hand and took his letter in the other. The feel of the thick parchment caused her to stop what she was doing. Her full attention turned to the letter.

"They want me to attend their special school," he proudly stated, "and I said I'd go."