The capture of Corban Yaxley wasn't complicated at all. Lockhart didn't even have to lift a finger.
"They've changed a lot," Snape remarked, his expression complex as he observed the entire operation. Despite his usual disdain for Harry Potter, even he had to admit the young witches and wizards performed exceptionally well.
Their excellence shone in every way.
From the strength of their spellcasting, the precision of their techniques, their grasp of timing, their coordination with each other, and—most crucially—the state of their magic, it all far exceeded Snape's expectations.
The one who surprised him most was Hermione.
Yes, Hermione Granger.
Despite her stellar performance at school, Snape had never thought much of her. Her past success came from sheer hard work, not innate talent. Compared to someone like Percy Weasley or Cedric Diggory, she'd always seemed to fall short—by a wide margin.
In Lockhart's words, she was "not very magical at all."
She'd always seemed more like a Muggle overachiever than a truly exceptional young witch.
The difference was stark, especially when Snape thought of Lily Evans. Lily, also Muggle-born, was worlds apart from her sister Petunia. She had that inborn witchiness—a quality that was hard to describe unless you were a writer like Lockhart, but unmistakable once you saw it.
Yet now, Hermione was starting to show what a true witch could be.
"Desire!" Lockhart said with a grin, providing the answer. "Natural talent is great, sure—it's like fate nudging you Ascendancyou down that path. But I think what's truly precious is the desire you develop later. That's what sparks an incredible strength of will!"
Snape fell into thought, giving a slight nod.
Sometimes, even if he wouldn't admit it, the truth was undeniable. Dumbledore had pulled him out of the muck, dragging him back to teach at Hogwarts. In that process of redemption, Snape had unknowingly started to think like a true professor.
He'd begun reflecting on educational philosophies—something he'd never deeply considered before.
More importantly, Snape could feel how much his mindset had shifted in the six months since Lockhart's arrival. He was starting to ponder his own magical path, reaching a turning point.
Lockhart's influence had pushed him to question the pure-blood dogma that everything was determined by birth, and he was beginning to consider the power of the heart and mind.
"Adventure is never a simple thing…" Lockhart said, glancing at Madam Marie, who was slumped asleep on the sofa, his expression unreadable. "It's not a scripted stage play where we just perform and expect a happy ending. No, its dangers constantly remind us that one misstep could lead to utter ruin."
"So, without an unshakable will, no one can succeed."
Lockhart turned back to Snape. "That kind of will isn't about psyching yourself up, gritting your teeth, and mustering courage. It's about believing, deep in your soul, that this is how it should be."
"Believing deep down?" Snape's brow furrowed. His past understanding of magical will leaned toward control—spells like Sectumsempra or Levicorpus reflected that. But Lockhart's idea of will driven by the heart was a realm Snape found utterly foreign.
"Exactly." Lockhart casually flicked his wand, casting a Stunning Spell on one of Madam Marie's lackeys who was pretending to be unconscious. He sat down on the sofa across from her, eyeing the witch who could bring about his downfall with a squint.
"We sense danger keenly, and we have countless ways to handle it," he continued. "But if we listen closely, we can hear the call of adventure. So, we choose the most magical way to face it, even if we're not sure we'll succeed. Deep down, we just know it's right."
"Because…" He shifted his gaze from Madam Marie, smiling at Snape. "We believe magic will always find a way to solve everything. That's the secret to letting magic bloom."
Believing in the impossible, placing hope in the mysterious—that's when the mysterious answers a wizard's call, and magic flourishes.
When the "storybook adventure" approach reached this level, it demanded a bold spirit and steadfast will to stay true to one's path. That was the key to climbing higher on the road of magic.
Here's the thing.
The original Lockhart had stolen memories from so many powerful wizards. Was that problem really so hard to fix?
The original Lockhart had already devised a solution.
As a con artist, his natural instinct was, of course, deception.
The plan was simple.
He'd invent a dark magical creature that stole time itself. Then, as the hero, he'd battle this terrifying beast and write a book about it—already titled My Hardest Victory.
But to conjure up a nonexistent dark creature and make readers believe it, he needed a rock-solid reputation as a master of magic. That's why the original Lockhart never wrote the book—his fame was too flimsy, lacking true authority.
Now, though, Lockhart had that authority.
He'd built a solid reputation at Hogwarts, spreading his name through students and professors alike. His adventures had showcased his skill step by step, and his book Where to Find Dark Creatures had cemented that foundation.
Now, he didn't even need to follow the original's risky plan of writing My Hardest Victory, which could have been riddled with holes. Instead, he could simply publish Where to Find Dark Creatures 2, slip this time-thieving creature into a catalog of real dark beasts, and let his fans defend the story for him.
It was the perfect cover!
He'd claim that in a past adventure, he defeated this dark creature, saving countless lives. But the shape-shifting monster then took on his appearance to commit evil deeds, so he swore to hunt it down.
No better way to tie up loose ends.
The only problem? It was a lie.
Not whether the lie could solve his predicament, but that it wasn't magical.
The moment Madam Marie appeared before him, Lockhart felt the faint call of adventure.
He craved a vibrant, passionate life.
He never shied away from adventure.
Even if this was so dangerous that one wrong move could mean total ruin.
Adventure wasn't a scripted drama with a guaranteed happy ending. It was perilous—otherwise, it wouldn't be called adventure.
It demanded immense courage to stay true to one's magical path.
"Even if it ends in disgrace, even if it leads to my downfall, even if I lose everything…" Lockhart grinned brightly. "I'd never regret walking this magical path."
To cross into a world of such wondrous magic and not go all in, not chase it with reckless abandon—wouldn't that be a waste of a second chance?
What was the point of a safe, predictable life?
"I don't have to be a master of magic," Lockhart murmured. "I don't have to live for centuries. I don't have to leave a shining legacy in this world…"
"I don't care!"
"I only care about magic!"
"I chose this path just to bring more magic into the world, to feel its wonder, to let it bring me joy. Nothing else matters!"
Even if it all fell apart, even if those dozen powerful wizards learned Gilderoy Lockhart had stolen their memories, even if his name became more reviled than Voldemort's, making him a villain everyone hunted…
So what?
Lockhart would only think—Here comes another grand magical adventure!
Bring it on!
Make it bold!
"You're a madman!" Snape said, his brow furrowed tightly.
"Haha!" Lockhart shrugged. "That's just how wizards are. I love it. I think I was born to be a wizard, so magic should naturally flow from my wand!"
"It's that simple."
The truth was that simple. If you don't let your heart soar freely, if you obsess over fame, status, or whatever else, what does that have to do with magic? Will the mysterious answer you? Will magic respond?
No!
The things you chase don't need magic at all.