Chapter Text
Dumbledore sat at his desk, mulling over the letter he’d just received yesterday late at night. It was a letter from a wizard named Gilderoy Lockart who had applied for DADA professor. Dumbledore had a lot of trouble finding a professor for the subject, as the rumors of the position being “cursed”, which wasn’t even all that far off, caused many wizards to pass it over. Barely anyone had applied all summer and whoever did was untrustworthy or incompetent. With a lack of any better options, Dumbledore was willing to give Lockhart a chance. He’d sent the man a letter requesting he come for an interview at Hogwarts at 10am sharp.
However, there was just one problem. When Dumbledore had done a background check, he could barely find any records on the man. Lockhart didn’t go to Hogwarts, didn’t have any previous job here, didn’t have a recognizable name, didn't get a Hogwarts letter invitation, didn’t even seem to be born here.
This was strange and suspicious. Dumbledore made sure to list his background as a question to bring up with Lockhart during the interview.
Dumbledore checked the time, noticing it was nearing 10am. He left his office and walked down the stairs and hallways to the castle gates. There, he stood patiently and waited outside for a few minutes.
Suddenly, a bright flash engulfed the Hogwarts grounds. When the brightness died down, a young man who looked in his early twenties stood in its place. Lockhart had windswept, wavy blonde-gold hair long enough to just barely touch his shoulders. His eyes were a vibrant shade of electric blue and his skin was a perfect sun-kissed bronze tan. The man wore majestic midnight black robes accented with golden highlights. He held himself with confidence and radiated a presence of authority.
For a moment, when the sunlight caught Lockhart at just the right angle, he almost looked like a deity with an otherworldly golden glow illuminating his form from behind.
Dumbledore blinked, and Lockhart looked like a normal wizard again, who just happened to be much more handsome than average. Dumbledore decided it was probably a trick of the light.
“Good morning, sir. You must be Professor Dumbledore. I am Gilderoy Lockhart. I received your response for an interview at Hogwarts. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long,” Lockhart greeted, flashing a dazzling smile of perfect white teeth.
“Good morning to you too, Mr. Lockhart. No worries, I haven’t been waiting for longer than five minutes. Come along, we’re going to my office so we can go through the interview,” Dumbledore said as he led Lockhart through the castle gates.
The two of them traveled through the hallways, passed moving paintings and dozens of classrooms. Eventually, they reach a doorway blocked by two gargoyle statues. With a quick “lemon drops,” the stone gargoyles parted to allow the two to walk up the winding staircase. Finally, they arrived at the headmaster's office.
“Take a seat,” Dumbledore offered as he sat down at the seat of his desk. Lockhart sat down in one of the chairs and waited for Dumbledore to start asking the questions. Dumbledore noted how Lockhart seemed completely at ease in the presence of one of the strongest wizards in Europe.
“So, Mr. Lockhart, why have you chosen to apply to become the DADA professor?”
“I’ve heard Hogwarts has many opportunities open for wizards and witches looking for jobs. When I heard about how the DADA professor position was open, I figured I'd give it a go,” Lockhart casually answered.
“Very well. Forgive me, Mr. Lockhart, but for the students’ safety, I also had done a required background check on you. But I’ve found few records telling of your presence in Magical Europe. Why is that?” Dumbledore questioned.
“Well, Professor Dumbledore, that’d be because I’ve only recently moved here to Magical Europe. I am a homeschooled Muggeborn from America,” Lockhart smoothly replied.
An American foreigner? Dumbledore thought. This man had a flawless British accent, yet he only recently moved here. Perhaps he was an immigrant from Britain to America and had grown up with British parents?
“I see. Can you demonstrate your knowledge of Defense Against Dark Arts?” Dumbledore asked, moving on. Lockhart nodded, standing up and pulling out his wand.
“Cave inimicum!” Lockhart spoke. Instantly, a massive barrier encased around him, completely and perfectly hiding his presence from even Dumbledore. If Dumbledore didn’t know Lockhart was standing right there two seconds ago, he'd have thought no one was there at all.
The barrier disappeared and Lockhart reappeared again. He pointed his wand at the chair he had been sitting on and shouted “Reducto!” The chair was promptly blasted into smithereens. It was pulverized to the point it was no more than a small pile of dust.
“Reparo!” Lockhart commanded, and the chair was immediately repaired without a single flaw that told of it turning to dust mere moments ago. “Is that sufficient enough for you, Professor?” Lockhart bowed, before standing tall with confidence.
Dumbledore was impressed. Those were all high level spells flawlessly done one after the other instantaneously. Lockhart seemed to know his DADA spells well. Dumbledore could tell he’s found his new professor.
“Fantastic! You seem to be well qualified to become the new DADA professor. Congratulations, Mr. Lockhart, You're hired!” Dumbledore congratulated.
Lockhart smiled and thanked him. Dumbledore wasn’t sure if he saw a hint of relief in Lockhart’s expression.
“However, there is a problem I need to bring up with you, Professor Lockhart,” Dumbledore warned.
“Oh? What seems to be the problem?”
“I’m sure you’ve heard how the DADA professor position is “cursed”, and to be honest, it's not really a lie. Just last year, the previous professor, Quirinus Quirrell, got possessed by Voldemort,” Dumbledore began. He had to make sure Lockhart knew the risk it was to take this dangerous position. “I’m afraid Voldemort may also target you due to being the DADA professor.”
“Oh, is that so? Well no worries, Professor Dumbledore. Voldemort can try, but I guarantee you, he’d have to defy The Fates if he wants to kill me,” Lockhart valiantly declared in a serious tone as if this was final. Even though his proclamation was outrageous, Dumbledore could see Lockhart meant it. Something Lockhart had said also sounded strange but Dumbledore couldn't pinpoint what.
“It's reassuring to hear you're so confident, Professor Lockhart. Do be careful though, Voldemort can and will defy The Fa-” Dumbledore abruptly cut off his sentence, his mind finally figuring out what it was with Lockhart that made him so uncanny.
Lockhart was powerful enough to be fearless in the presence of the Chief Warlock and the warning of the Dark Lord himself targeting him. Dumbledore was sure it wasn't arrogance either as Lockhart had proven himself to be capable of powerful magic. In fact, Dumbledore suspected the man was holding himself back from how it looked like saying the incantation and actually using his wand was a second thought. Dumbledore was sure that he should've at least heard of Lockhart before if he was really this powerful to be equal to himself and Voldemort.
Lockhart’s background was also very odd. A homeschooled American Muggleborn? With a perfect British Accent? Even if he was homeschooled, Lockhart still should've received an Ivermorny invitation. Yet when Dumbledore had checked every magic school he knew, there was nothing.
But most suspicious of all, was the fact Lockhart mentioned The Fates.
Dumbledore still remembered when he had that one history class explaining the reasoning behind why spell incantations were in Latin. It was because before the British, there were the Romans, and before the Romans, there were the Greeks. The Greeks had heavily influenced the Romans who in turn, influenced the British. Magical Britain never really took up an official religion, but Dumbledore still knows of the ancient Beings the Greeks worshipped.
And one of them was The Fates. The three sister goddesses who weaved destiny and fate itself. Lockhart said, no, declared that Voldemort would have to defy The Fates, defy goddesses, defy death, defy destiny to kill him.
And Dumbledore just knew Lockhart wasn't joking.
Who is Gilderoy Lockhart? Is he really who he says he is? No, there was something missing. Something more to him. Something that will finally explain all the strangeness behind this young man. But what?
Dumbledore paced around his office, Lockhart staring at him in confusion. Dumbledore was close to the truth, he knew it. How could Lockhart be so confident in the face of the most powerful wizards in the world? How is it absolute that Voldemort would fail to kill him? Even Dumbledore himself could still die at Voldemort's hand. Heck, even Voldemort could still die if all his horcruxes are destroyed. After all, no matter how hard he tries, he's not immortal- Dumbledore stopped pacing.
Immortal. That's it. Could it be? Did Lockhart somehow find a way to become immortal? Like the Philosopher's Stone? No, the stone grants immunity to ageing, not dying. It can't be horcruxes either as Lockhart still looked perfectly healthy and still seemed to have his whole human soul intact.
Except … was Lockhart really human to begin with?
Dumbledore looked at Lockhart. Really looked at him. Lockhart looked like the embodiment of human perfection. His body was muscular and toned, even through his robes. His face was devilishly handsome and his luscious, blonde hair glittered in the sunlight.
His eyes were brilliant blue like a cloudless sky. And if Dumbledore looked close enough, he could swear fiery rings and flecks of luminescent molten gold swirled within his irises.
He looked so perfect, so otherworldly, so divine, so much … like a god.
A Greek god. That's it, isn't it? Voldemort can't kill Lockhart because he's an immortal god. A divine Being was literally standing in Dumbledore’s office right now.
“My lord, you're a Being, aren't you?” Dumbledore asked as he kneeled, bowing low before the god. Was this some sort of test? Was the god testing him to see if he would recognize divinity?
Lockhart stood still, seemingly surprised he'd been found out already. “Rise, Professor. I suppose I should've expected my cover wouldn't last long. Not when it comes to a wise wizard such as yourself, Albus Dumbledore,” Lockhart remarked.
“Why, my lord? I am confused. Why have you decided to take the form of a wizard applying to be a Hogwarts professor?” Dumbledore questioned as he stood back up.
“I am Apollo, the God of the Sun. There had recently been a war between the gods and giants back in America. I happen to be pinned with the brunt of the blame and have come to Hogwarts to stay out of my father's radar,” Lockhart, no, Apollo answered.
For a split second, Apollo’s black robes were replaced with a gold accented chiton. His shoes were replaced with Greek sandals, a laurel wreath crown atop his head, a glowing golden bow strung over his broad shoulders, a quiver featuring the sun motif and full of celestial bronze arrows, and a brilliant pair of shining golden wings. Apollo stood powerful, mighty, and regal like a prince basking within the sun’s rays like he owned it, and he really did.
The next second, the vision was gone, as if Apollo had never shown his true self. This time, Dumbledore knew it was not a trick of the light and everything he saw had been real.
“Lord Apollo, I am honored to be worthy within your presence. Hogwarts gladly welcomes you for as long as you need to stay. I am delighted to know the DADA classes will be well handled by a supreme Being such as yourself,” Dumbledore said, respectfully. “However, the concern still stands that Voldemort will attempt to target you for your position, jeopardizing your disguise. Especially since Harry Potter, who is another target of his, will be attending his second year DADA classes with you.”
“Harry Potter? That boy who's been plastered all over the Daily Prophet front page? This Voldemort fellow seems to be obsessed with him, if what I’ve read from the newspaper is telling the truth," Apollo crossed his arms in frustration, trying to think up a solution to this issue. “If that’s so, then I’ll have to put Mr. Potter under my personal protection until Voldemort is permanently vanquished,” Apollo now just needed a way to protect himself from Voldemort’s interference. Even if Voldemort can’t kill him, he’d rather Voldemort never realize he’s immortal. “Professor Dumbledore, by targeting me, do you mean Voldemort will attempt to possess or control me?”
Dumbledore nodded. “Yes, exactly like what he had done to Quirrell. He will try to turn you to his side and then possess you in an attempt to turn you into his servant.”
“In that case, if Voldemort is looking for servants, then all I have to do is prove myself to be a useless servant he won’t even want or care about,” Apollo decided.
Dumbledore considered Apollo’s plan. In order for Voldemort to gain a servant, the target has to at least be good enough to pique his interest and be able to follow his orders. Voldemort can manipulate as much as he wants, but if his target is too incompetent to even recognize what he wants or successfully carry his orders out, they’d be useless to him. Voldemort wouldn’t put his time and energy into useless servants who can’t do anything he wants. Yes, this may just work. If Apollo can pull off an idiotic enough image of himself, Voldemort may just dismiss him as a lost cause.
“Brilliant! That might just work. Of course, Lord Apollo, you're still going to find a way to proficiently teach your students DADA even if you must put up a fake persona of incompetence?” Dumbledore asked, just to be sure.
“Yes, I certainly will not be letting some wannabe-immortal Dark Dunce keep me from adeptly teaching my students their lessons. Do not worry, Professor, I’ll find a way,” Apollo assured him.
“Fantastic. Now, I think this interview is just about over. All that’s left is to form a contract,” Dumbledore opened a drawer in his desk to retrieve the contract papers. He makes a contract with every professor in Hogwarts, and this includes undercover gods.
Dumbledore slid the paper onto the desk, wrote down their settled deal, and stepped back, pointing his wand at the paper. Apollo did the same, and began to recite the incantations.
“I, Lord Phoebus Apollon, God of the Sun, light, poetry, music, archery, healing, and prophecy, alias Gilderoy Lockhart, swear on the Styx to uphold my end of the deal in this contract with Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. Let The Fates bear witness to seal this agreement,” Apollo then takes his wand and nicks a cut in his index finger again, allowing a single drop of golden ichor to drop onto the paper below. The ichor is absorbed into the paper, signing Apollo’s real name in golden blood in the bottom right corner. Thunder claps outside as the room fills with ancient magic, finalizing Apollo’s agreement to the contract.
“I, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, and Chief Warlock, swear on my magic to uphold my end of the deal in this contract with Lord Phoebus Apollo. Let Hogwarts bear witness to seal this agreement,” Dumbledore then proceeded to cut his finger as well, letting just one drop of red blood to fall on the paper beneath. The blood is absorbed just as quickly as the ichor, signing Dumbledore’s name in red in the bottom left corner. Once again, thunder rumbles outside the castle and the ancient magic in the room intensifies, sealing Dumbledore’s word to the contract too.
Once both signatures were signed, the contract flashed a blinding bright, white light. As the light died down, Dumbledore could see the ancient magic pulsing through the now indestructible paper. The magic would prevent anyone not part of the contract from seeing its contents. The only beings in the world who knew of its contents were Apollo, The Fates, Hogwarts, and Dumbledore himself.
“Well, that’s it. This interview is officially complete. Thank you for coming, Lord Apollo. I take it you’ll be here for the start of the new school year in September?” Dumbledore asked, turning his attention from the contract to Apollo.
“Absolutely. Now, I’ll be taking my leave. I’ll see you in about two months, Professor Dumbledore,” With that, the room was engulfed in another bright flash. When Dumbledore opened his eyes, Apollo had gone.
“What a day. At least I no longer need to find a DADA professor,” Dumbledore sighed, returning to his stack of paperwork. He had a feeling this year was going to be just as troublesome as the last.