Albus Dumbledore sat at his desk, with its claw-footed legs, staring at the register before him.
He was completely still, appearing to be lost in thought.
Neither the rhythmic snoring of the magical portraits around him, nor the occasional soft murmurs from Fawkes the phoenix, who had his head buried under his wing on the perch behind the door, could rouse Dumbledore from this peculiar stillness.
He seemed to have become one with his surroundings.
This tranquility persisted until it was finally broken by a sound from the stone gargoyle by the entrance.
“Headmaster, Gilderoy Lockhart is here to see you.
He’s waiting at your door,” a booming voice announced.
Dumbledore stirred slightly, as if the voice had startled him awake.
“Please, ask him to enter,” Dumbledore said.
As the griffin-shaped door knocker lifted, the oak door to the Headmaster’s office slowly swung open.
The visitor stood still on the threshold, waiting until the door was fully open before striding in confidently, his head held high.
The newcomer was immaculately and appropriately dressed.
From his tailored trousers to his crisply ironed long-sleeved shirt, he stood in stark contrast to the typically unkempt image of a wizard.
The velvet wizard’s robes he wore over his clothes were impeccably shiny, complementing his polished golden curls perfectly.
The overall impression he gave was one of cleanliness and brilliance.
When combined with his gentlemanly demeanor and charming smile, he was the kind of man who could effortlessly captivate anyone from an eight-year-old girl to a sixty-year-old woman.
“Good day, Headmaster!
It’s been a long time.
I’ve missed you terribly.”
Gilderoy Lockhart walked to a point just a few steps from Dumbledore, then bowed deeply.
Dumbledore rose and slowly extended his right hand, as if intending to shake hands with his visitor.
Lockhart quickly stepped forward, pulled off his white glove, stuffed it into his pocket, and grasped Dumbledore’s right hand with both of his own.
Dumbledore frowned slightly, whether from distaste for such formality or from catching a whiff of Lockhart’s subtle cologne.
“It’s been a long time, Lockhart.
I hear you’ve been at Loch Ness for the past few months?”
Gilderoy grinned, flashing his brilliant white teeth.
“There’s no need to be so formal, sir.
You may call me Gilderoy, or even ‘Gil,’ if you prefer.”
Dumbledore subtly withdrew his right hand.
“As you wish, Gilderoy.
Please, have a seat…
I personally believe we can dispense with some of these unnecessary formalities from now on.”
Lockhart didn’t stand on ceremony further and obediently sat in the chair Dumbledore indicated.
“I have indeed been around Loch Ness lately.
Partly because Loch Ness is also in the Scottish Highlands, allowing me to be closer to Hogwarts, and partly to help an old school friend maintain order.
You see, with the summer holidays here, there are many more Muggles coming to Loch Ness looking for the monster.
We spend a great deal of time every day casting Memory Charms…”
“Yes, I am aware,” Dumbledore interrupted him.
“Exceptionally well-performed Memory Charms.
No side effects whatsoever, and all the Muggles believe they enjoyed a splendid lakeside picnic.
Piegude spoke very highly of you.”
“How delightful,” Lockhart said, his smile widening.
“You mentioned being ‘closer to Hogwarts.’ Does that mean you’ve decided to accept the teaching position here?” Dumbledore asked further.
“Of course!” Lockhart spread his arms wide in an exaggerated gesture.
“Could you possibly doubt that anyone would refuse?
Refuse an offer from Hogwarts, the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world?
It was the dream of so many during their school days.”
“I’m very pleased you still hold your alma mater in such high regard a decade after graduating, Gilderoy.
However, I must remind you once more that this position is the Defence Against the Dark Arts professorship,” Dumbledore cautioned.
Gilderoy Lockhart’s smile dimmed slightly.
“Yes, I am perfectly aware.”
“And you’ve also heard about what happened to Professor Quirrell last year, as well as the rumored curse that person placed on the subject.”
Lockhart clasped his hands together.
“Of course!
Poor Professor Quirrell, a most unfortunate affair!
And the Dark Lord’s curse is indeed a challenge.
As far as I know, no one has held this position for more than a year in recent times.”
As Lockhart mentioned, it was in 1954 that Voldemort was rejected for a teaching post at Hogwarts and placed a curse on the position that same year.
“This year” is 1992.
This curse had lain dormant like a serpent since it was cast, quietly gathering power over many years, only beginning to take effect in recent times.
If it had been immediately effective, it would mean Hogwarts had gone through thirty-eight Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers – but that was impossible.
Many said the curse might have been reversible if discovered early enough.
But by the time it truly began to manifest, even Dumbledore, a supreme opponent of the Dark Arts, could only say, ‘Perhaps we could have done something then, but it’s far too late now.’
Regardless, the Defence Against the Dark Arts professorship was a perilous job, perhaps even slightly more dangerous than being the South Korean president, a fact Lockhart understood perfectly.
Dumbledore’s gaze grew more thoughtful.
“In that case, I am curious, Gilderoy.
Of course, it might simply be old age clouding my memory.
But my impression of you from your school days wasn’t exactly that of someone…
well, I mean to say, the Sorting Hat placed you in Ravenclaw, not Gryffindor…”
“Cleverness far outweighing courage, so not the type to take this job,” Lockhart finished his thought for him.
Now that Lockhart had stated it plainly, Dumbledore seemed somewhat relieved.
“…Of course, I hope that hasn’t offended you.”
“Not at all, Headmaster,” Lockhart replied, his expression unchanged.
“Furthermore, while chatting with Mr.
Ollivander recently, he told me a rather interesting piece of news – your original wand was no longer a good fit for you, so you went to him for a replacement.
That is a very rare occurrence.” Dumbledore continued his probing.
Upon hearing this, Lockhart, for the first time since entering the office, showed an expression other than a smile.
Typically, Ollivander’s wand shop considers a witch or wizard’s character, values, intelligence, and so on when matching them with a wand, to better complement their soul.
Different cores and woods work in harmony with the types of magic a witch or wizard excels in, their magical power, and their personality.
Ollivander calls it ‘the wand chooses the witch or wizard.’ A person’s wand usually stays with them for life, sometimes even being buried with them.
Unless some particularly significant event profoundly shocks a person’s soul, causing their character or values to change.
“I graduated over ten years ago, Headmaster,” Lockhart said carefully.
“In that decade, I’ve traveled extensively, encountered many fascinating and dangerous things, all of which have enriched my life experience and tempered my character…
Have you had a chance to read my books?
Gadding with Ghouls, for instance?”
“Of course, it’s one of the reasons I decided to hire you,” Dumbledore said gently.
“So, you can’t expect me to have the exact same personality I had at school after all I’ve been through.
That would mean I haven’t grown at all,” Lockhart added.
Dumbledore gazed at Lockhart, and Lockhart sat there, calmly meeting his eyes.
It was Dumbledore who finally looked away first.
“…I see.
You must forgive an old man’s curiosity about new things.”
“There’s nothing to forgive, Headmaster.
Given the unfortunate incidents of the past few years, a thorough vetting of a new professor’s background is only to be expected,” Lockhart said.
As he spoke, Lockhart breathed a huge sigh of relief internally – it seemed he had managed to fool Dumbledore.
Because he wasn’t Gilderoy Lockhart at all.
Or rather, he wasn’t the original Lockhart.
He was just a minor British civil servant from the 21st century who had read the Harry Potter series, and had died from overwork.
The original Gilderoy Lockhart had met with a slight deviation in this timeline.
When he tried to use a Memory Charm on an unsuspecting wizard to steal their accomplishments, part of the spell’s power was reflected by a protective amulet the wizard was wearing.
This scrambled Lockhart’s own soul, allowing this newcomer to take over his body.
“Well, everything seems to be in order.
If I have time later, I would be delighted to hear about the adventures from your travels.”
As he spoke, Dumbledore produced a letter of appointment.
“If you are ready, please sign this letter of appointment.
Upon signing, you will officially become a Hogwarts professor, entitled to your own private office, and the power to award and deduct points from students…
I trust you will not abuse it.”
Lockhart took the letter and began reading its terms with interest.
He had always been curious about Hogwarts staff salaries.
Slughorn, as the newly appointed Potions master, even after haggling with Dumbledore, his salary still wasn’t high enough to make him indifferent to Acromantula venom priced at 100 Galleons a pint.
Yet, Professor McGonagall, who taught Transfiguration, didn’t hesitate to buy Harry a Nimbus 2000.
This suggested salary differences even among professors.
However, considering the wealth of expensive potions ingredients in Snape’s private stores, it was also possible that Heads of Houses received particularly generous pay.
Of course, Lockhart was merely curious.
The original owner of this body had made a fair amount of money from his books, so his financial demands were not particularly high.
But when he glanced at his own salary column, Lockhart couldn’t help but whistle, even though he immediately realized it was a bit rude.
“You’re quite generous,” he said, making an apologetic gesture.
“You seem satisfied, which is good.
After all, it is the Defence Against the Dark Arts post.
I must account for certain…
additional expenses, you understand,” Dumbledore said vaguely.
“So this salary includes personal accident insurance and an advance severance package.
That makes the figure quite reasonable,” Lockhart nodded in understanding.
Dumbledore seemed puzzled.
“Personal…
what?”
“Never mind.
I’m ready to get to work.
Would you like to review my lesson plans first, or perhaps test my magical abilities?” Lockhart asked, brimming with confidence as he quickly signed the letter of appointment.
“Neither.
I typically don’t interfere with the professors’ teaching duties.
All you need to do is compile the list of textbooks your students will need this year and choose your office location.
Also…
there is one task I must assign to you.”
“What task?” Lockhart asked.
Dumbledore stood up and handed a piece of parchment to Lockhart.
“Each year, Hogwarts admits a number of new students with magical talent.
Some come from wizarding or half-blood families – they usually require no intervention from us.
Unfortunately, those from the non-magical community are often skeptical of Hogwarts.
Persuading the parents of these Muggle-born students to allow their children to attend can be a very difficult job.
Last year, we had a Muggle-born student named Justin Finch-Fletchley.
He was all set to attend Eton College, and his family expected it.
But then his mother read one of your books, and her view of Hogwarts seemed to change somewhat.”
“So?” Lockhart opened the envelope.
“So, I believe you have a talent for persuasion.
This is a list of this year’s Muggle-born students, along with their addresses.
I need you to visit their parents, deliver the letters of acceptance, and persuade them.
And not by frightening them with talk of Obscurials, of course.”
“No problem,” Lockhart agreed instantly, without hesitation.
Dumbledore offered his first smile of the day.
“Excellent.
It seems you’re already settling into your role.”
“Of course.
From the moment I walked into this office, I’ve considered myself a member of the faculty,” Lockhart replied, flashing Dumbledore an even more brilliant smile.
It was a smile that had won the Most Charming Smile Award from Witch Weekly five times!