It was so fast that it was almost dizzying.
"You've no idea how much effort I've put in behind the scenes!" Ian declared, ever ready to cultivate his image as a dedicated and hardworking student.
However.
Gilderoy Lockhart arrived at an inopportune moment.
"Good afternoon, everyone!"
His voice rang out grandly, brimming with the self-importance Ian had come to expect. As Lockhart swept into the room, an elegant cane in hand, his every movement seemed calculated to project effortless grace and charm.
A composed smile, an air of distinction— at first sight alone, several young witches gasped, their reactions not unlike those of star-struck fans.
"Lockhart! It's really him!"
"Merlin's beard! My mum adores him!"
"I heard he's saved countless lives! A hero, second only to Harry Potter! Thank Merlin! And thank the late Professor Whoever!"
…
And it wasn't just the witches.
A few young wizards, too, looked positively awed. After all, as one of the most famous adventurers and authors in the wizarding world, Gilderoy Lockhart was something of a celebrity in the magic-starved community.
"Good, good! I do love enthusiasm! This is precisely the welcome I envisioned." Lockhart's smile shone brilliantly, his delight practically radiating off him.
Of course.
Or perhaps he simply lacked the ability to conceal it. In any case, Ian could plainly sense the sheer confidence, pride, and eager anticipation rolling off the man— he was looking forward to putting on a performance.
Given his flair for self-promotion, Lockhart would undoubtedly relish the chance to play his usual role— embellishing his image with borrowed glory.
Ian wasn't remotely surprised. Lockhart's every move, every word, practically screamed, Look at me! I am the great wizard you've been waiting for!
This only deepened Ian's impression of him as both theatrical and flamboyant.
"To be quite honest, before receiving Dumbledore's invitation, I never imagined myself as a Professor." Lockhart strode to the front of the room, pausing with a deliberate flourish to lean his cane against the desk. Then, flashing his most charming smile, he continued,
"But of course, this is a marvelous opportunity— an exciting new venture, one that makes me feel truly invigorated!"
His immaculately styled golden curls framed his face as his sharp eyes scanned the room, ensuring that every gaze remained firmly on him.
"I must say, your esteemed Headmaster has excellent taste. Believe me, there is no one more suited to this role than I. No one!" Lockhart beamed. "I know dark magic very well. Oh yes, I daresay even Dumbledore himself would vouch for that!"
Ian hadn't even reacted yet—
But beside him, Michael had already curled his lip and muttered under his breath, "What a show-off." Clearly, Michael wasn't as taken with Lockhart as William was.
"Professor, there are no desks or chairs. Are we supposed to stand and hold our books for the entire class?" A student asked, raising their hand.
"Close your books and put them aside. We won't be needing those today. I had the desks and chairs removed to show you that my class is a practical one."
"In fact, not just today— every lesson I teach will be hands-on! That so-called 'self-defense' textbook? You won't need it. If time permits, I may even write a proper one for you myself!"
"Of course, whether I find the time depends entirely on my mood."
Ian suspected that Lockhart was already laying the groundwork to sell his own books. He was openly dismissing Hogwarts' assigned reading, after all.
Ian raised his hand.
"Professor, how exactly are we supposed to practice?"
A troubling thought crossed his mind— was Lockhart about to have a first-years duel in class? Was he planning to start the Dueling Club a whole year ahead of schedule?
"I remember you, child. Ian Prince, correct? I do hope my recommendation helped you resolve your dilemma last night," Lockhart said smoothly, calling him by name.
Ian inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment.
He must have stayed up late memorizing his students' names.
Seeing Ian's response, Lockhart's dazzling smile brightened further.
"Practical learning, my boy, requires confrontation! Theory is the easiest part of this subject— you can study that in your own time! Why waste our precious moments together on it?"
Sure enough.
Ian had a bad feeling.
Gilderoy Lockhart continued expounding on his philosophy, his voice smooth and theatrical. "In truth, whether it's Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, Astronomy, or even Herbology, all of these subjects serve as prerequisites for this one. Only by excelling in them can you truly grasp the art of defending against the Dark Arts."
He clasped his hands together, flashing a dazzling smile. "Yes, my dear students, true defense against the Dark Arts does not rely on any singular tool. One must use every resource at their disposal to confront danger. Even using certain... unconventional methods against dark magic is, at times, necessary."
Gasps rippled through the class. Some of the young wizards even paled in horror.
That was Dark Magic.
A professor— a Hogwarts professor— was openly stating that combating Dark Magic with Dark Magic was permissible? For many students raised in wizarding households where such practices were strictly forbidden, this notion was difficult to swallow.
Were it not for the man speaking— renowned, published, and undeniably famous— someone might have outright challenged him. But while most students wrestled with their discomfort, Ian only felt mild surprise. He had little respect for Lockhart, but he had to admit: the man wasn't exactly wrong.
After all, in a real confrontation with the Dark Arts, survival was the ultimate proof of success. If countering one dark spell with another was the only way to make it out alive, who could argue that wasn't effective defense?
"Take your time to absorb this, let the idea settle," Lockhart continued, waving a hand grandly. "One day, when you have seen as much as I have, experienced as much as I have, you will come to understand the wisdom of my words."
With a flourish, he twirled his wand between his fingers, the polished wood gleaming under the classroom's torchlight. The handle was adorned with small, glittering gems, arranged in what Ian suspected was an intentionally ostentatious display of wealth and taste.
"Professor, can you show us some Dark Magic?" A bold student had recovered enough to raise their hand, eyes gleaming with curiosity.
Lockhart, however, merely chuckled and shook his head. "Ah, my dear child, while I admire your eagerness, I'm afraid it is far too early for students your age to be exposed to such things. I doubt our dear Headmaster would approve of me demonstrating actual Dark Magic in class."
Ian resisted the urge to scoff.
'That was convenient.'
Once again, Lockhart had expertly twisted the conversation, making it seem as though he 'wanted' to show them but was being unfairly restricted by school rules. A clever excuse— one that let him escape performing anything of substance.
Ian's last hopes for this class withered. Would Lockhart just spend every lesson spinning tales instead of actually teaching them anything useful?
"Professor, you said this would be a practical class," William suddenly interjected, a knowing glint in his eye. "Will we be practicing with an Irish Leprechaun? Forgive me for accidentally spotting one in your office yesterday."
The room collectively perked up. Excited murmurs broke out amongst the students. Having arrived to find the classroom void of desks and chairs, they had begun to worry about what was in store. If Lockhart had prepared a Leprechaun, then perhaps this lesson 'would' involve something tangible after all.
Lockhart arched an eyebrow at William but showed no signs of irritation. "No need to apologize, my boy. What you saw was merely a remnant of my predecessor's collection. I would never dream of using 'another professor's' materials for my own lessons. That simply wouldn't be...authentic."
Ian wasn't sure what was more amusing— Lockhart's blatant deflection or the way he made "authentic" sound like the highest virtue one could possess.
Then Lockhart's gaze swept across the room, finally settling on Ian. His stare was pointed, and Ian, who wasn't particularly thrilled to be in the spotlight, stiffened slightly.
"Ah? Professor, are you planning to use 'me' for today's lesson?" Ian asked warily.
Lockhart threw back his head and let out a hearty laugh. "Ha! Of course not, my dear boy. I'm merely a touch disappointed. I had expected more from the student Dumbledore himself speaks so highly of! You didn't even notice the little surprises I set up." He leaned forward, his expression turning uncharacteristically serious. "Child, let this be your first lesson— 'always' remain vigilant. A good wizard never lets his guard down."
His voice dipped, drawing the class in. "Do not assume that just because you are within Hogwarts' walls, you are completely safe. Danger lurks in places you'd least expect... and I intend to prove it to you."
With that, Lockhart raised his wand and tapped the teacher's desk.
(To Be Continued…)
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