“I believe many young wizards just starting to learn magic have discovered a secret: the louder you yell, the better the magic works.” Lockhart scanned the crowd.
Seeing the students who excelled in charms nodding in agreement, he flashed a grin.
“Of course, as you reach the upper years and gain experience, you will discover that the true essence of magic is actually resolute willpower.” A buzz of discussion rippled through the hall.
Some students whispered to their neighbors about how they had indeed tried that, and how remarkably well it worked.
Harry Potter, for instance, seemed to have had an epiphany.
He turned to Ron, excitedly explaining that he had been shouting his spells all along, and clearly, he had been right.
Nearby, Draco Malfoy sneered.
He turned toward Harry, ready to mock him for the stupidity of relying on shouting, when he suddenly noticed Hermione Granger staring at Professor Lockhart on stage with adoring, lovestruck eyes.
Oh.
Malfoy’s expression shifted to that of a man seeing something utterly ridiculous.
He had noticed many students obsessed with Lockhart lately, and it made him feel physically ill.
Fortunately, the chatter didn’t last long; the prefects of each house sprang into action, eager to prove their dedication to the prestigious task Professor Lockhart had assigned them.
“I know…” Lockhart paced the stage, speaking with effortless charm.
“Some of you might disagree with this view.” “They might feel that the essence of magic isn’t resolute willpower, but rather a rich imagination—or, the ability to construct clear images in one’s mind.” He brandished his wand—which, for him, served as little more than a fancy stick—and performed a flawless, foundational Transfiguration movement.
The stylish flair drew another chorus of shrieks from the students, keeping the prefects frantically busy.
Lockhart chuckled, nodded to the hard-working prefects, and continued.
“Many wizards find that when we have a clear expectation of a spell’s effect, when we can visualize it perfectly in our minds, our casting becomes wonderfully effortless.” “Take the Mending Charm, Reparo…” “Take Transfiguration and its corresponding restorative counter-spells…” Lockhart provided example after example, striking a pose for each one with movements so precise that even Dumbledore and McGonagall couldn’t find a single flaw.
In short order, he had summarized seven distinct methods, each accompanied by a detailed argument.
“Resolute willpower, marvelous imagination, intense emotion…” He walked slowly, his golden robes reflecting the light of the Great Hall, making him look radiant.
“Yet,” he asked, “even after summarizing so many secrets to casting magic, we find that none of them apply to every field of magic.
So, what exactly is the true essence of magic?” He gazed intensely at every student, even glancing toward the professors in the corner.
To his delight, he saw even them lost in thought.
He then randomly selected several outstanding students to try and answer.
Naturally, being the calculating man he was, he chose those who were brilliant, eager to perform, and already his fans.
Their competence would reinforce the stereotype among the students: Look, Professor Lockhart’s fans are all high-quality; following him is the right choice.
He received many answers, but this was a question that even the top professors at Hogwarts couldn’t definitively settle.
It was a question with no absolute answer.
But that was the point: as long as he gave a meaningful response, any critique would be viewed as an intellectual debate rather than a rebuttal, grounding his legendary status in something “relatable.” Lockhart smiled at the hall.
“My answer is—Romance.” “Yes, romance.
That is the essence of magic.” His eyes held a flicker of wisdom as he spoke slowly and firmly.
“If I had to qualify that romance, I would call it fairy-tale romance.
Fairy-tale-style romance.” He looked at the students with deep sincerity.
“Many of you think life is long and that your childhood is a time to be squandered, so you don’t put much effort into your studies.
But when you walk out of this school, you will find that your greatest achievements in life may well be the time you spent here at Hogwarts.” “If you follow in my footsteps—graduating at seventeen or eighteen, setting out on a world tour, and experiencing so many people and things—you will notice a phenomenon: for many wizards, their most creative peaks in magic occur during childhood.” “If you look at the records of many spells you learn or encounter, you’ll find that almost all were invented by these powerful wizards during their childhood.” Examples abounded.
Take Professor Snape, sitting right there: he invented so many spells as a child, but how many had he created since graduating?
“Why is that?” Lockhart looked at the suddenly silent students.
“I believe it is because they begin to face the cruel reality of life, and they begin to lose their sense of romance.” “And specifically, their fairy-tale romance.” “Our romantic fantasies about the effects of magic, our firm belief in those effects, the way we so easily anchor our own emotions into our spells…
that romance is what is lost.” “It is very difficult for adult wizards to keep living within the romance of a fairy tale…” “Your natural childhood romance is the best soil for magic.
Cherish these seven years of school life; they will bring you endless possibilities.” The well-traveled Professor Lockhart smiled at everyone.
He could see Snape sitting in the corner, his expression dark and troubled—he had clearly been deeply moved by those words.
“Now, to be more specific?” “Perhaps your Sorting already pointed the way.” “Gryffindor?
Perhaps adventure?
Defeating the Dark Lord?” “Slytherin?
Perhaps orchestrating a subversive conspiracy?” “Ravenclaw?
Perhaps achieving excellence in your field?
Fame and prestige?” He shook his head with a smile.
“No, you cannot be defined.
Each of you must find your own romantic, fairy-tale magical life.” “That is something you must search for yourselves.” “Now, let us move to a practical scene, and I will show you how a ‘fairy-tale romance’ produces such remarkable results in magical casting.” “I believe I need two assistants to come to the stage…” “For a fairy-tale performance.” He scanned the crowd, murmuring, “I need a hero who wishes to defeat the Dark Lord, and a wise scholar who firmly believes they alone are correct.” Oh, he had his targets.
Even though many students were enthusiastically raising their hands, he focused his gaze on two students in the crowd who were trying their best to hide behind their classmates.
“Harry Potter…” “Draco Malfoy…” “Would you two please come up to the stage?” — Don’t forget to send Spirit Stones for more chapters.
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