Chapter Text
Apollo arrived outside the Leaky Cauldron less than an hour later. Before going in, he made sure to summon himself some plain, black robes and shift into a young adult form no older than twenty two. First things first, he needed to secure himself a place in Hogwarts. Perhaps the school was in need of a new Professor. If not, Apollo was sure he could still find a way to apply as an assistant taking an apprenticeship with a professor.
After a quick check to make sure his British accent was flawless, Apollo entered the Leaky Cauldron.
Inside, the bar was dark and dimly lit with over a dozen wizards chattering and conversing with half empty drinks. Most spared him a quick glance before returning to their own business. Apollo headed straight for the bald, old bartender at the counter. Bartenders tend to always have useful knowledge from the many rumours and conversations they overhear.
“Good evening, sir. I’ll take one drink and the latest Daily Prophet issue,” Apollo greeted. The bartender nodded and swiftly filled up a glass of alcohol and snatched a paper from atop a nearby pile, passing both to Apollo.
“Good evening to you too, sir. I don’t believe I’ve seen you around before. What brings you here?” The bartender curiously asks as Apollo takes a sip from his drink.
“Indeed, I’m not from around here. I’ve come to see what opportunities I can find in this part of Britain, especially Hogwarts. I’ve heard the school’s got the best education around.”
“Why, of course! Hogwarts is the greatest magic school in all of Europe. If it's a job you're looking for, I’ve heard the DADA professor position is open. Perhaps it’ll interest you?”
“Oh, is that so? Maybe I’ll apply for the job,” Apollo was thrilled to hear that Hogwarts was indeed in need of a professor. If he can secure himself the job, Zeus won’t be able to do a thing. “Thank you, you’ve been most helpful. I must get going now,” Apollo stood up, leaving a galleon and two sickles on the counter.
“You're welcome. I’m Tom, by the way. And you are?” Tom asked as he collected the coins and the empty glass.
Apollo pondered what his name should be. He wasn’t going to use his real name; that would be far too obvious. Apollo took a look at the newspaper in his hands. In the corner, a list of items were being set on auction by a witch who found some old valuables in her attic. There was a golden locket amongst the many listed items with a description describing it to be a silver locket gilded with a thin layer of gold that hid a crystal heart inside. Gilded gold, like a fallen god pretending to be a normal wizard. A locked heart, like how Apollo was hiding himself and locking his identity away.
“My name … is Gilderoy Lockhart,” Apollo said, before leaving the Leaky Cauldron behind to enter Diagon Alley.