Professor McGonagall was a woman of her word. As soon as Robert finished lunch in the Great Hall and returned to the common room, Ginny came over with a piece of parchment.
"Professor McGonagall asked me to give you this," Ginny said.
"Thanks." Robert took the parchment and opened it.
Over fifty book titles were crammed together, filling the parchment almost like a densely packed essay. Robert's scalp prickled just looking at it.
He had expected to need to read many books, but not this many. He even briefly suspected that Professor McGonagall might be doing it on purpose to make him give up on learning Animagus transformation.
Then he shook his head. Snape might have done something like that, but the meticulous Professor McGonagall certainly wouldn't joke about Transfiguration.
Still, it was just too much.
Robert scratched his head. With so many books to borrow, even finding them in the library would take ages. He decided he'd better go to class first.
That afternoon's class was Defense Against the Dark Arts—easily the most anticipated subject for most students.
Right at the start of the lesson, Lockhart handed everyone… a questionnaire.
"What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?"
"What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?"
…
Almost half the students were baffled. Ron even flipped the parchment over several times, convinced it must be an end-of-year exam.
Though Robert had known this was coming, there was no way he could've read that many of Lockhart's books in advance. So he deliberately sat next to Hermione during class and cheated just enough to get a decent score—enough to maintain his reputation as a so-called "Lockhart admirer."
"What a pity," Lockhart lamented, "If Mr. Robert Ollivander had read Voyages with Vampires more carefully, he would remember my secret ambition—selling my own line of hair potions."
Robert pretended to look embarrassed.
Anyone who has ever copied homework knows you should never copy everything perfectly. Deliberately missing one or two answers is a sign of respect for the person you're copying from.
That's what Robert did. Thanks to that one missed answer, Hermione was the only student to get a perfect score, earning Lockhart's enthusiastic praise—and ten points for Gryffindor.
Hermione was so delighted she completely ignored Robert's earlier cheating.
Robert sighed inwardly. What a wonderful little witch. But after this class, her beautiful illusions about Lockhart were about to be shattered.
He hoped she wouldn't take it too hard.
And yet…
"That was amazing. I've never had such an interesting Defense Against the Dark Arts class!" Hermione's cheeks were still slightly flushed as they walked back toward the Gryffindor common room.
"Yeah… I admit, he's a little better than Quirrell," Ron said, uncharacteristically not arguing, "but only a little. After all, he just stood there watching."
Robert followed the three of them quietly.
Something felt a bit off.
Lockhart's Defense Against the Dark Arts class had turned out to be unusually popular.
Not because Lockhart demonstrated any extraordinary magical power—he hadn't even touched his wand during class—but because of how he managed it.
Robert's thoughts drifted back to the scene from half an hour ago, when Lockhart released a cage full of Cornish Pixies.
"Go on, round them up. They're just a bunch of pixies."
"Be careful, don't provoke them."
"Well done, Miss Granger, that's it! Though if it were me, I'd choose a more efficient spell."
"Potter, quickly save Mr. Longbottom—I'm sure you can handle such a small matter, right?"
"It's alright, it's alright! Feel free to use magic in this class; I've got everything covered."
Lockhart stood still, speaking grandly like he had at the Welcome Feast. But he didn't panic or flee. He just stood there, giving directions with flair.
Strangely enough, his words seemed to work. After the initial panic, students began calming down and realizing the true nature of the Cornish Pixies.
They were just mischievous magical creatures. They didn't cause any serious harm, and their teeth couldn't even bite through school robes.
Someone in class quickly remembered that Cornish Pixies were rated XX on the Ministry of Magic's danger scale—meaning "harmless/can be domesticated." The same level as Nifflers and Bowtruckles.
Naturally, it was Hermione who knew that—she had memorized Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them cover to cover.
Her timely reminder made everyone a bit braver. And when Lockhart gave permission to cast spells freely, the classroom quickly erupted into chaos. Spells flew everywhere, and excited shouts echoed through the entire floor.
It was hard to imagine this level of noise happening in a class. And yet, Lockhart's first lesson ended up being a roaring success. Students praised him for being confident, calm, and poised—as though he were capable of handling any situation.
In truth, Lockhart didn't lift a finger. Even when Neville was dragged up to the chandelier and almost broke a bone falling down, Lockhart merely called Harry over to help.
Afterward, the damage—broken desks, benches, the loosened chandelier—was all fixed by the students using magic. Lockhart left only his gleaming smile and golden hair behind.
And yet… he became the most popular professor?
Hmm. Maybe he really could.
Even Robert had to admit, a professor who didn't impose restrictions and let students freely use magic in class had an undeniable appeal.
Robert began to realize his previous impression of Lockhart might have been too one-sided.
True, Lockhart was a fraud. The adventures described in his books weren't his—they were stolen from other wizards, their memories wiped clean.
But that didn't mean he was a fool.
In fact, Lockhart was clever—clever enough to be sorted into Ravenclaw when he was at school. That was something even Robert hadn't achieved.
Could Robert have done what Lockhart did? Tracked down those legendary witches and wizards, gained their trust, gotten their full stories, and then used memory charms to steal their fame?
That would've been incredibly difficult.
After all, anyone capable of driving away werewolves or defeating trolls would be no fool. Gaining their trust would be tough enough. Erasing their memories without a trace? Even harder.
Yet Lockhart managed it. Seven times.
Some of his victims were even friends of Dumbledore.
If Lockhart could deceive them, then it was unlikely he'd be easily exposed by a few second-year students.
There was just one thing Robert didn't understand—why didn't the Cornish Pixies bother Lockhart at all? Could it be that standing still made them lose interest?
Possibly.
Robert suddenly regretted something.
If he had known Lockhart's class would be so well received, he wouldn't have rushed to sell his copy of Magical Me.
Being able to use magic freely in class was an approach that would especially appeal to Slytherins—many of whom came from wealthy wizarding families. He might've sold the book for a hundred galleons.
With that thought, Robert broke away from the group on the stairs.
"I have to go to the library," he said. "You guys go ahead."
"The library?" Ron looked up sharply. "You're not turning into Hermione, are you?—Oh, sorry, Hermione, I didn't mean it like that."
Hermione gave him an unfriendly glance.
"I mean," Ron tried again, "why's Robert suddenly so into reading? He used to only mess with wood."
"This is a good thing," Hermione said, elongating her words in a very McGonagall-like tone. "If you liked reading, you wouldn't need to borrow my homework every day."
"We don't borrow it every day!" Ron protested.
"Except Saturdays," Hermione shot back. "Because you don't do homework at all that day!"
As the three of them started bickering, Robert shrugged and headed downstairs.
He didn't dare interrupt—after all, he might need to borrow Hermione's homework too.
If he wanted to learn Animagus transformation before third year, it meant dedicating serious time and energy to Transfiguration. Having access to Hermione's well-crafted homework answers would definitely help.
Back upstairs, Ron quickly changed the subject.
"This year's Defense Against the Dark Arts class is really fun. Did you see? I caught five Cornish Pixies!"
"I caught three," Harry said with a grin. "Maybe we misunderstood Lockhart. His class was interesting."
"I told you he was a great wizard. None of you believed me," Hermione beamed.
"But I still think you shouldn't have used the Levitation Charm so much," she added, frowning at Ron. "One pixie hit the ceiling and broke its wing."
"And Harry, you almost stepped on one."
"I couldn't see," Harry said. "It stole my glasses!"
"Yeah, it was chaotic," Ron added. "We didn't do it on purpose. Besides, wasn't Professor Lockhart there? He'd know how to handle them."
"Remember that book Mum always reads? Gilderoy Lockhart's Guide to Household Pests. He must know all about those little creatures."
Whether it was for homework or something else, Ron's name for him had changed from just "Lockhart" to "Professor Lockhart."
Naturally, Hermione was thrilled about that.
And the three of them were friends again.
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