Chapter 3: Only I Have Ever Spoken Up for You
Lockhart's speech had an effect.
Dumbledore's gaze softened considerably.
A slight smile appeared on Professor McGonagall's face, and she stated directly that "having Lockhart, who has traveled to so many places in the world, come to teach will be an opportunity for the young witches and wizards to broaden their horizons."
Perfect!
Professor McGonagall briskly led Lockhart to the arranged professor's quarters, informed him of the schedule for the students' arrival welcome feast that evening, and then left directly, as she had more things to do.
Lockhart maintained his perfect charming smile as he saw Professor McGonagall to the door. After closing the door, he finally let out a breath of relief and slumped weakly against the door panel, sliding to the floor.
He gasped for breath, an unhealthy pallor spreading across his face, and sweat began to bead heavily on his forehead.
"Ugh~"
He clutched his robes tightly, letting out a suppressed groan.
Just now, just now, he had been intensely and continuously searching through his memories, making the already chaotic mess in his mind even more jumbled.
Memory was a very unique thing.
Especially for the original Lockhart, who was proficient in the Memory Charm to the extreme, this was even more so.
It needed to be understood that even when dealing with the same object, the same person, or the same event, different people would have different memories.
This was because these memories were mixed with too much personal subjective bias, views on people and events, the emotional and affective state at the time, and the overall influence of one's worldview, values, and outlook on life on all memories.
And now, the conflicting memories of more than a dozen powerful wizards were so mixed that it was painful to the point of madness.
Lockhart felt as if a dozen people were chattering incessantly in his mind, clamoring and shouting in a distorted manner.
What to do?
He didn't understand, and he knew that the original Lockhart also couldn't figure this out.
He didn't know if this current problem was an effect of transmigrating, or an inherent risk from the original body's unrestrained use of top-tier Memory Charms.
"Damn it!"
Lockhart took a deep breath and finally calmed down, but his face was still full of worry, "I won't end up a fool like the Lockhart in the original story, will I?"
The original Lockhart was very impressive, easily dealing with more than a dozen powerful wizards in just nine years.
The original Lockhart was also very weak; his understanding of magic was still somewhat superficial. Those dozen or so powerful folk wizards might have been very strong in practical combat and everyday applications, but their academic insights were negligible.
—He didn't know how to deal with his own problem.
"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry..."
Lockhart stood up, walked to the window, looked at the school castle complex, and murmured, "Maybe I can find a solution here?"
Yes, he had boasted to Dumbledore about how useful the magic passed down through generations in the folk world was, stating directly that the academic magic of the school was too dogmatic and rigid.
But in reality, he needed the academic magic of the school even more.
Fortunately, he was now in the magic school, with a one-year term.
Lockhart patted his cheeks, trying to look more relaxed, then casually tidied up his luggage, pushed open the door, and walked out.
Indulging in the negative emotions of his inability to change his predicament was meaningless; doing more meaningful things was more practical.
In the time that followed, going to the library to research was one way.
Seeking help from other professors was also a way.
The professors at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were definitely top figures in the wizarding world.
Professor Severus Snape's potions.
Professor Filius Flitwick's charms.
Professor Pomona Sprout's herbology.
Professor Sybill Trelawney's divination.
Rubeus Hagrid's care of magical creatures.
Madam Pomfrey's medical treatment.
There were too many to count. Getting on good terms with any of them would be a great help, whether for his current problem or any problems he might encounter in the future.
Lockhart strolled through the castle, and as he walked, he soon smelled a very strange aroma.
It was a bit sweet, a bit spicy, and also had a hint of savory freshness.
"???" He blinked, stunned, "Did I transmigrate again? Otherwise, why would someone be eating hot pot here?"
And it seemed to be seafood hot pot!
Walking along the corridor, he soon arrived at the door of a slightly dim room. Looking inside, oh, they were brewing potions.
Quickly searching his memory for the figure in front of him, it wasn't too difficult, after all, that greasy long hair was too distinctive.
"Hey~"
Lockhart gently knocked on the open door, his smile radiant, "Senior Snape."
Severus Snape was four years his senior at Hogwarts, and they had interacted a bit back in their school days.
At that time, although Snape was close to some pure-blood students who admired the Dark Lord, he didn't receive much help and often felt isolated in the face of the Marauders.
As a rising star of the new generation, Lockhart naturally had to speak up for justice.
Of course, he was much smarter than Snape, specifically choosing a time when only the weak Peter Pettigrew was present, and righteously denounced their bullying behavior in front of countless people, winning the praise of many students.
—Senior Snape! Please remember, I was the only one in the whole world who ever spoke up for you!
That feeling of glory was very nice.
But for Snape, it wasn't nice at all.
He turned his head, saw Lockhart, and his face immediately turned sour.
"Senior Snape," Lockhart's smile grew even brighter as he familiarly walked in and enthusiastically put his arm around the other's shoulder, "Remember me? Your dear junior, Lockhart."
Snape's eyes narrowed, glancing at the hand on his shoulder, and said coldly, "Of course I remember. Anyone who magically carves their name twenty feet high on every letter of the school Quidditch pitch will be remembered by all the students."
Huh?
Was the original body this flamboyant?
Lockhart quickly searched his memory, discovering that this wasn't even the most outrageous thing. This guy had even imitated Voldemort's Dark Mark in school, projecting his own glittering portrait into the sky.
Of course, of course, he understood the original body's thoughts.
How enjoyable this kind of thing was, just ask the white-turbaned folks in the Middle East. It was definitely an indescribable pleasure.
"Hahaha..."
Lockhart laughed heartily and naturally removed his arm from his senior's shoulder.
Because he noticed that Snape had already picked up his wand from the table.
"It's so great to be working with you, Senior!" he said, looking at the school scenery outside the window with a look of emotion, "It's still so beautiful here, filled with the aura of wisdom everywhere. Most importantly, those annoying Potter and his gang aren't here anymore."
The corners of Snape's mouth twitched slightly, and he put down his wand.
"Senior, do you know? I once talked about you with someone, about the most powerful wizard in Potions among all the people I know—Severus Snape!"
Lockhart turned to look at him, "But they didn't agree. Everyone discussed Arsenius Jigger, the author of Magical Drafts and Potions, Libatius Borage, the author of Advanced Potion-Making, and Evans Aven, the author of Most Potent Potions..."
He rattled off the names of at least ten potions masters before raising an eyebrow, "Senior, what do you think? Who is more powerful?"
Snape simply shook his head with a calm expression, "I don't care what others think."
"I don't think so," Lockhart chuckled. "Any master who has achieved excellence in a certain field has the undeniable pride of their status. Maybe you're still too young, only 31 now, and haven't yet experienced the wonderfulness that fame brings. Proof..."
Snape had already become impatient, turning back to stir the potion in the cauldron with his wand, his voice dry and tinged with annoyance, "I don't need to prove anything. If there's nothing else, please leave!"
Lockhart, however, seemed not to have heard, continuing, "As a matter of fact, anyone who proves themselves to be a successful master will naturally cause anyone who opposes them to be labeled as a villain by everyone. You understand, like Dumbledore and Grindelwald..."
Snape sneered, "Dumbledore should really hear this, the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor he hired is badmouthing him behind his back."
Lockhart continued, "And like you and Potter's group back then."
!!!
The wand in the cauldron stopped stirring.
Snape stood motionless with his back to Lockhart, his whole being exuding a gloomy aura.
"Prove that you are right!" Lockhart said excitedly, "You know, I was the only one who ever spoke up for you back then. I know it too well, but many people don't. So you need to prove yourself. That's the charm of fame. Your extraordinary achievements will make those who bullied you back then a laughingstock."
The wand lifted slightly, and a drop of bright red potion slowly dripped down the shaft.
Snape slowly turned around, staring intently at Lockhart, "What exactly are you trying to say?"
"Write a book, Senior, compile your own unique potions treatise, let everyone know your wisdom." Lockhart pointed to the bookshelf on the wall, "Just like all the potions masters, have your work placed on the curriculum of every magic school in the world."
"If you don't know how to write something that sells better, I can help you. Of course, there are many other things I can help you with. No one in this world understands how to run a best-selling book better than I do."
The wand waved.
An extremely strange force sent Lockhart flying backward rapidly. He felt as if he had been squeezed into a narrow, distorted space, and when he was squeezed out again, he was already standing outside the door.
Bang~
The door slammed shut forcefully, completely sealing Snape inside in the gloom.
"Senior, I saw it! You were tempted! What are you doing? Open the door~~"
Yes, Lockhart clearly saw that Snape was tempted.
His plan was clearly quite successful, using his ability to market best-selling books as an advantage to befriend the school professors. But why did Snape kick him out?
Not cute at all.
Otherwise, should he go find the cuter Hagrid?
Maybe this old classmate of the Dark Lord would like to make some interesting picture books for those little cuties?