Cyril Rosier, Favored by Lady Luck

Cyril Rosier felt Lady Luck had been far too kind to him lately.

So kind that he could scarcely believe it himself.

He leaned back in the high-backed leather chair he had inherited from Lockhart in the Defense Against the Dark Arts Office, his fingers absently rubbing the edge of a small pouch inside his robes.

Through the fabric, he could feel the space created by the Undetectable Extension Charm—

The real Gilderoy Lockhart was curled up inside, trapped between unconsciousness and silence.

The pouch had cost him a fortune.

The Undetectable Extension Charm was strictly regulated by the Ministry of Magic. Only a handful of licensed manufacturers could make products like this, and every one bore a serial number.

He had bought this pouch from a merchant in Knockturn Alley who refused to give his name. It had no serial number and no tracking record.

It had cost him five hundred Galleons—roughly half a year's wages for a junior Ministry of Magic employee.

To Cyril, it was money well spent.

After all, he needed to put a person inside it. Nothing could go wrong.

The funny thing was, after all the effort he had put into his disguise, Hogwarts had no proper screening measures at all.

Cyril thought of everything he had done to prepare before coming here, and the corner of his mouth twitched.

He took a small mirror from his pocket and studied his face by candlelight—golden hair, straight teeth, and blue eyes that always seemed to be smiling.

Lockhart's face. A face that could make witches scream, draw long lines outside bookshops, and send Daily Prophet reporters chasing after him to ask, "When is your next book coming out?"

And now that face belonged to him.

The price he had paid for it went far beyond