Lockhart waved his wand.
“Deep within the forest, let the gray wolves gather!” Mist rose through the small woodland, condensing into the shape of a wolf made of silver-gray smoke.
It was semi-transparent, about the size of an adult wild wolf, and moved rather slowly.
The wolf trotted a few steps among the trees before collapsing back into mist and dispersing throughout the grove.
This was one of only two spells Lockhart could barely cast after assimilating that memory.
Like the flower healing spell, it was somewhat underwhelming.
Yet he was extraordinarily satisfied.
Going from being completely unable to cast magic to casting anything at all, that was a qualitative leap.
A contented person finds happiness easily, and a genuine smile spread across his face.
Unlike the flawless, practiced smile he usually wore, this one came straight from the heart.
It was genuine, joyful, and infectious.
A gentle evening breeze drifted into the office.
Sheer curtains swayed softly, brushing against the vine-covered branches that crawled along the windowsill like enormous pythons.
Several birds fluttered in through the open window, inspecting this strange new environment and searching through the unique “forest” for suitable nesting spots.
Lockhart reclined against a tree trunk and gazed out the window.
The evening sky was painted red by the setting sun, and in the distance came the faint cheers of students playing on the Quidditch pitch.
With his hands behind his head, he allowed his thoughts to drift.
The Golden Retriever lay curled on his stomach, hugging its magical eyeball toy and dozing.
As Lockhart’s chest rose and fell, the little furry head bobbed gently along with it.
He treasured this rare moment of peace.
It felt as though the entire world had slowed down, and for once, his usually chaotic mind enjoyed a brief period of calm.
The memories he had extracted and returned to his head seemed to be searching for their proper places again.
They repelled one another, attracted one another, and gradually settled into a delicate balance.
The original Lockhart had treated the memories in his mind far too casually.
Like a Niffler hoarding treasure, he had stuffed every valuable thing he found into his head without ever considering whether he could truly control it.
In the wizarding world, memory had always been one of the most profound and mysterious fields of magic.
It touched upon concepts like time, the soul, and fate.
Very few wizards ever researched it.
Those who specialized in the field were likely limited to the Unspeakables in the Department of Mysteries’ Hall of Brains, and some Ministries probably didn’t have anyone studying it at all.
Even with Lockhart’s extensive network, there was no way he could reach individuals whose work was classified at the highest levels of the Ministry, let alone obtain their secret research materials.
Wait…
if his memory served him correctly, Harry would cause quite a commotion in the Department of Mysteries down the line.
If he, as Harry’s professor, happened to follow the Boy Who Lived there out of “concern” for his student, surely nobody would hold him accountable, right?
It might be his only realistic chance to break into such a heavily guarded institution.
Lockhart’s eyes lit up.
Of course, that was still a long way off; it was Harry’s fifth year, to be precise, which meant that even after leaving Hogwarts at the end of his one-year teaching contract, he couldn’t afford to lose touch with the boy.
“Haaaaarry Pooootter!” A shout echoed from outside the door, quickly followed by several other voices, shattering the office’s tranquility.
Lockhart blinked in surprise and looked toward the entrance.
Only then did he remember that, as a precaution earlier, he had invited Draco Malfoy alongside Harry, Ron, and Hermione for extra lessons.
Putting those two sides together was never a recipe for peace.
Ron’s father and Draco’s father had the kind of relationship where they regularly traded insults and occasionally traded blows.
On top of that, Harry and Hermione detested Draco.
Maybe he should recruit Draco’s two shadows, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, into this “study group” as well.
Balance was important, after all.
Feeling the conflicting memories in his mind keeping each other in check, Lockhart felt uniquely qualified to make that call.
The noise outside grew louder.
Draco clearly had no intention of backing down just because he was outnumbered three to one.
His talent for sarcasm was bringing him immense joy as he relentlessly mocked Ron, accusing him of suddenly kissing up to Professor Lockhart just because he’d been given a new wand.
The smugness in Draco’s voice made him sound like he thought he could take on all three of them single-handedly.
Unfortunately for him, retribution came swiftly.
As a chorus of respectful “Professor McGonagalls” rang out, Draco inevitably received a sharp reprimand for his tone.
‘Knock, knock, knock.’ “Professor Lockhart, my apologies.
Would visiting at this time disturb your work?” Professor McGonagall called politely from outside.
“Not at all, not at all!
Just give me a moment.” While the kids had been arguing outside, Lockhart had already scrambled to his feet and begun frantically stashing the Pensieve, which was still swirling with leftover memory strands.
That thing absolutely couldn’t be seen by anyone.
Stuffing such a large magical artifact into a tiny cloth pouch no bigger than his palm required a surprising amount of skill.
For some reason, the original Lockhart had never bothered using items enchanted with an Undetectable Extension Charm, leaving the transmigrated Lockhart to fumble awkwardly through the process.
The Felix Felicis and several other items needed to be tucked away as well.
Meanwhile, voices drifted in through the door.
“I certainly hope we aren’t interrupting Professor Lockhart’s experiment…” Professor McGonagall murmured.
“Professor Lockhart told us to come at this time for extra lessons, so it should be fine,” The kids chimed in together.
At last, Lockhart finished hiding everything.
He hurried toward the door, only to realize he was still barefoot.
Snatching up his shoes, he sat on a nearby trunk and frantically shoved his feet into them.
Nearby, the Golden Retriever Monkey picked up on his panic and attempted to help out with its master’s predicament.
Well…
sort of.
It skillfully suppressed its own magical aura, which was great, but instead of helping open the door, it raised a paw and pointed toward a hollow in the peach tree that had grown crookedly against the fireplace.
“Guji!” The hollow stayed dead silent, as if empty.
“Guji~~?” Instant panic erupted from inside the trunk.
A cloud of black smoke billowed out in a panic, rapidly solidifying into a humanoid figure in tattered wizard robes.
It was a Boggart, specifically, one that had spent years in wizarding homes and defaulted to this form in the absence of any immediate fear to feed on.
The moment it materialized, its eyes locked onto Lockhart.
“GUJI!!!” The Golden Retriever Monkey sounded genuinely furious.
The Boggart trembled violently, shrinking back and staring blankly at the dog.
Standing on a branch with its front paws on its hips, the Golden Retriever pointed a paw forcefully toward the office door.
The Boggart felt humiliated.
Deeply, deeply humiliated.
When it hesitated, the dog leaped down, scrambled up its tattered robes all the way to its head, and gave it a sharp slap.
The Boggart finally complied.
Carrying the Monkey on its head, it limped toward the door, a shambling gait it used to use to terrify homeowners.
Unfortunately, moving that slowly only earned it another smack.
Left with no choice, it snapped straight and darted to the door with the agility of a track runner, pulling it wide open.
“Professor Lockhart, I hope we haven’t interrupted your experiment… oh!
Merlin’s beard!” Professor McGonagall gasped in alarm.
Standing in the doorway was a sinister figure that looked like a Dark Wizard, its face swallowed in the shadows of a deep hood.
Fortunately, after the initial shock, her years of experience kicked in, and she recognized it as a Boggart.
The Boggart itself wasn’t what alarmed her, though.
The truly terrifying thing was the magical creature perched on top of its head.
Instinctively, she stepped in front of the students to shield them.
But before she could cast a spell, a large hand reached out, shoved the Boggart aside, and revealed Lockhart standing behind it with a brilliant smile.
“My apologies!
Please, come in, come in!” The curious kids caught only a quick glimpse of a streak of black smoke diving back into the hollow beside the fireplace and a flash of golden light disappearing into the canopy of a nearby tree.
Wait…
a tree?
“Merlin’s beard!” Professor McGonagall gasped, staring into the office in shock.
The room had been transformed into an entire woodland.
“Professor Lockhart, what is…” Lockhart laughed heartily, ushering everyone inside.
“This was specially arranged to simulate the fairy-tale adventure exercises we’ll be doing soon!” he explained smoothly.
“You know how it is… as professors, we need to rehearse everything ourselves first, get familiar with every detail, and ensure nothing goes wrong.
A forest adventure is a classic setting, after all.” The truth was much simpler: he had absolutely no idea how to turn the Forest Witch’s miniature woodland back into an office.
“You are truly a responsible professor!” Professor McGonagall said, gazing around in admiration.
While everyone else spent the weekend relaxing, Professor Lockhart was tirelessly preparing future lessons and testing every detail in advance.
The more she thought about it, the more impressed she grew.
Her opinion of him soared to whole new heights.