Lockhart’s speech had worked.
Dumbledore’s gaze became much gentler.
Professor McGonagall even smiled faintly as she remarked that ‘it would be a wonderful opportunity for the young wizards to broaden their horizons to have someone as widely traveled as Lockhart teaching at Hogwarts.’ Perfect!
Professor McGonagall led Lockhart briskly to the quarters prepared for him, informed him of tonight’s student arrival and welcoming feast schedule, then immediately departed.
She still had countless matters to attend to.
Lockhart maintained his flawless, charming smile the entire way and escorted Professor McGonagall to the door.
Only after she had closed the door behind her did he finally let out a breath of relief, collapsing weakly against it and sliding down onto the floor.
He gasped heavily, his face turning an unhealthy shade of pale while sweat poured from his forehead.
“Ugh…” He clutched his robes tightly and let out a suppressed groan.
He had just been searching intensely through the memories in his mind, causing the already chaotic mess in his head to become even more disordered.
Memory is a very peculiar thing.
This was especially true for the original Lockhart, who had mastered Obliviate to an extreme degree.
It is important to understand that, even when facing the same object, person, or event, different people will have completely different memories of it.
This was because memories were mixed with subjective biases, personal opinions, emotional states at the time, and the influence of worldviews, values, and outlooks on life.
Now, the memories of more than a dozen powerful wizards were clashing within him, causing him so much pain that he felt he was going insane.
He could almost hear more than a dozen people chattering, shouting, and screaming distorted nonsense inside his mind.
‘What should he do?’ He didn’t know.
And he knew the original Lockhart hadn’t understood it either.
At the moment, there was no way of knowing whether this problem was a side effect of transmigration itself or if it was a hidden danger that had been caused by the original Lockhart’s reckless use of high-level Obliviate magic.
“Damn it!” Lockhart sucked in a deep breath and finally recovered a little, though worry still filled his face.
“I’m not going to end up like the original Lockhart in the books and turn into a complete idiot, am I?” The original Lockhart had been incredibly capable, effortlessly dealing with over a dozen powerful wizards in just nine years.
However, he had also been weak in another sense: his understanding of magic itself remained rather shallow.
Those powerful wandering wizards might have been excellent in combat and in practical applications, but their academic insights were barely worth mentioning.
He had no idea how to solve his own problem.
“Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…” Lockhart stood up and walked to the window.
Gazing at the castle grounds, he muttered softly.
“Maybe I can find a solution here?” He had just boasted to Dumbledore about how useful folk magic passed down among ordinary wizards was.
He had even claimed that academic-style magic had become overly rigid and dogmatic.
But, truth be told, what he actually needed more of was academic magic.
Fortunately, he was now inside a magical school.
His term would last for a full year.
Lockhart patted his cheeks, forcing himself to relax, and then casually tidied up his luggage before opening the door and heading outside.
There was no point drowning himself in negative emotions over a situation he currently lacked the power to change.
Doing meaningful things was far more practical.
One approach would be to spend more time researching in the library over the coming days.
Asking the other professors for help would also be an option.
After all, the professors at Hogwarts were undoubtedly among the most prominent figures in the wizarding world: Professor Severus Snape’s Potions.
Professor Filius Flitwick’s Charms lessons.
Professor Pomona Sprout’s Herbology.
Professor Sybill Trelawney’s Divination.
Rubeus Hagrid’s Care of Magical Creatures.
Madam Pomfrey’s healing magic.
There were simply too many to count.
Becoming friends with any of them would be a huge help, not only with his current problem but also with any future problems life might throw at him.
Lockhart wandered leisurely through the castle corridors.
As he walked, he caught a strange smell.
It was sweet and spicy with a hint of savory freshness.
“???” He blinked in confusion.
“Did I transmigrate again?
Otherwise, why does it smell like someone’s barbecuing here?” And seafood barbecue at that!
He quickly arrived at the entrance to a dimly lit room by following the corridor.
Peering inside, he realized…
Oh!
That someone was brewing potions.
He quickly scanned his memories to identify the figure inside, though it was easy to recognize him.
That greasy black hair was simply too distinctive.
“Hello~” Lockhart lightly knocked on the open door and smiled brightly.
“Severus.” Severus Snape was four years older than Lockhart, and they had interacted quite a bit during their school days.
Back then, although Snape had been close to certain pure-blood students who admired the Dark Lord, he had never gained much support from them.
When facing famous figures like Potter and his friends, he was often alone and without allies.
As a rising star among the younger generation, Lockhart naturally stepped forward to speak up for justice.
Of course, he was much smarter than Snape.
He had chosen the moment deliberately, ensuring that only the weak Pettigrew was present.
Then, in front of countless students, he righteously denounced their bullying, earning widespread praise from his classmates.
‘…Severus!
Remember this: I’m the only person in the world who has ever stood up for you!’ The feeling of glory had been absolutely fantastic.
Though for Snape, it had been anything but fantastic.
The moment he turned around and saw Lockhart, his face immediately darkened.
“Severus.” Lockhart smiled even brighter as he casually walked in and enthusiastically wrapped an arm around the man’s shoulders.
“Do you still remember me?
Your dear junior, Lockhart.” Snape narrowed his eyes, glanced at the hand on his shoulder, then replied coldly, “Of course I remember.
Anyone who used magic to carve their own name onto the school Quidditch pitch in twenty-foot-high letters would be unforgettable.” ‘Huh?’ ‘Was the original owner really that flashy?’ Lockhart quickly searched through the memories and found that this wasn’t even the worst of it.
At school, he had actually imitated Voldemort’s Dark Mark by projecting a sparkling image of his own face into the sky.
Of course, he understood the original owner’s thinking.
To understand how satisfying that kind of thing was, you only had to ask the men in white headscarves from the Middle East.
It was an absolutely indescribable pleasure.
“Hahaha…” Lockhart laughed heartily and naturally removed his arm from his senior’s shoulder.
He had noticed that Snape had already picked up his wand from the table.
“It’s wonderful to be able to work with you, Severus!” He looked out of the window at the Hogwarts scenery, his face full of emotion.
“This place is still as beautiful as ever.
The atmosphere of wisdom permeates every corner.
Best of all, Potter and his annoying gang are no longer here.” The corners of Snape’s lips lifted slightly as he put down the wand in his hand.
“Severus, do you know?
I once discussed with others who the greatest Potions wizard I know was.
Severus Snape!” Lockhart turned back to look at him.
“But nobody agreed.
They talked about Arsenius Jigger, the author of Magical Drafts and Potions; Libatius Borage, the author of Advanced Potion-Making; and Evans Aven, the author of Potent Potions…” He rattled off at least ten names of potion masters in one breath before raising an eyebrow.
“So, Severus, what do you think?
Who’s better?” Snape merely shook his head calmly.
“I do not care about other people’s opinions.” “I don’t think so at all.” Lockhart grinned.
“Every master who achieves extraordinary accomplishments in a field possesses unquestionable status and pride.
Perhaps you’re still too young, only thirty-one years old, and haven’t yet experienced the wonderful feeling that fame brings.
Proof…” Snape had already grown impatient.
He turned around and stirred the potion in the cauldron with his wand; his voice was dry and carried a hint of annoyance.
“I do not need to prove anything.
If you have no business here, then leave.” But Lockhart acted as though he hadn’t heard him and continued speaking.
“Facts prove that, whenever someone establishes themselves as a successful master, the people standing against them naturally become recognized by everyone as villains.
You understand?
For example, Dumbledore and Grindelwald…” Snape sneered.
“Dumbledore really ought to hear this.
The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor he invited is criticizing him behind his back.” Lockhart continued calmly, “For another example… you and Potter’s group.” !!!
The wand that had been stirring the cauldron stopped moving.
Snape stood motionless with his back to Lockhart, his entire body radiating an ominous air.
“Prove that you were right!” Lockhart said excitedly.
“You know, back then, I was the only person who ever spoke up for you.
I understand this better than anyone, but many others don’t.
So you need to prove yourself.
That’s the nature of fame.
Your extraordinary achievements will make a joke of those who bullied you.” The wand slowly lifted.
A drop of crimson potion slid down the wand’s shaft.
Snape slowly turned around and stared fixedly at Lockhart.
“What exactly are you trying to say?” “Write a book, Severus.
Compile a Potions masterpiece that is entirely your own and show everyone your brilliance.” Lockhart pointed towards the bookshelf on the wall.
“Just like all those great Potions masters whose books are in classrooms at magical schools around the world.” “If you don’t know how to write a bestseller, I can help you.
In fact, there are many things I can help you with.
After all, no one in this world understands how to market a bestseller better than I do.” The wand swung.
And an extremely bizarre force sent Lockhart flying backwards instantly.
His entire body felt as though it had been squeezed into a narrow, twisted space.
By the time he was expelled again, he was standing outside the room.
Bang!
The door slammed shut, sealing Snape back into the darkness.
“Severus, I saw it!
You were tempted!
What are you doing?
Open the door~~” Yes, Lockhart had clearly seen it.
Snape had certainly been tempted.
His plan had obviously been quite successful.
Using his expertise in writing bestsellers to build relationships with the professors was clearly an effective strategy.
So why had Snape thrown him out?
That was not cute at all.
Maybe he should go find someone cuter, like Hagrid?
Perhaps that old classmate of the Dark Lord would enjoy creating some interesting illustrated books for all his adorable little magical creatures?
(End Of This Chapter)