"Support from within, support from without, and of course, there's a third path..."
Lockhart studied him intently, "The path of self-mastery."
"Self-mastery?" Percy understood the first two paths, and they had suddenly illuminated his rather muddled thoughts. But this third one, he couldn't quite grasp it.
"Magic!" Lockhart gave a little shake of his wand. "When the magical prowess blooming from your wand strikes fear into the hearts of others, they must then decide whether to utterly vanquish you as an enemy or to invite you into their fold and hold you in high esteem."
In truth, Lockhart leaned towards believing Percy would make an excellent Auror.
While Percy usually presented himself as a remarkably accomplished, elite student, and even seemed to take on a leadership role amongst his classmates, he often acted rather clumsily in practice.
Much like Tom Riddle and the Knights of Walpurgis (the predecessors to the Death Eaters), or Harry Potter and Dumbledore's Army, their authority stemmed from their personal prestige. Percy's leadership over other students, however, came from the professors and the Hogwarts management circle, not from himself.
Given this, becoming an Auror would be a more suitable path. With Percy's calibre, he would swiftly rise to become an elite Auror, and with the backing of his father, Arthur, and the Order of the Phoenix, he could realistically aspire to become the Head of the Auror Office in the future.
But since Percy had come to him with this question, Lockhart was more inclined to guide this exceptional student towards a more noble path – magic itself!
My boy, your gaze should be fixed on the stars and the vast ocean; the position of Minister for Magic should be a recognition of your accomplishments, not something you seek out.
"You possess this potential, Percy."
Lockhart chuckled warmly, beckoning the young wizard back into the room, where the smoke had begun to thin, to warm themselves by the fire.
He didn't much care for interfering with others' choices of path. Every individual has their own destiny. He had said what needed to be said; the choice now lay with Percy.
The busy work of tidying up began swiftly.
With Percy's assistance, the progress was much quicker than Lockhart had anticipated.
"Professor, I believe I have my answer now."
Percy was engrossed in organising a cabinet that resembled a tall chest of drawers, pulling out various cluttered items and placing them on the floor for Lockhart to decide what to keep and what to discard. After silently finishing his task, he suddenly spoke up.
"Oh?"
Lockhart's eyebrow arched slightly, and he turned, curiously observing the steadfast determination on the young man's face.
He didn't need a Boggart to gauge the other's emotional state; he could sense the resolve in Percy's eyes.
"I choose magic!"
Percy spoke with great emphasis. "Actually, you misunderstood me. I was never determined to pursue a career in politics; I simply always craved excellence."
Lockhart set down a picture frame he had been holding and, with keen interest, gestured for him to continue.
"I used to think that working at the Ministry of Magic was the pinnacle of excellence," the young man's gaze grew distant as he looked out the window, as if recalling a specific memory. "But then I saw you casting spells..."
"With a mere flick of your wand, the rainy season that had lasted for half a year simply ceased, and sunlight blanketed the entire world."
"And that photograph in the newspaper, where you stood before Ministry officials and students, effortlessly transforming a terrifying werewolf back into a human..."
"At that moment, I truly began to think – perhaps this is what excellence should truly look like."
Percy spoke at length, expressing his desires. He was also remarkably sincere, openly revealing his fervent enthusiasm without a hint of reservation.
Lockhart smiled, nodding, listening to his narration without offering any judgment.
Emotions are incredibly subtle things.
In his own studies, Lockhart had come to believe that emotions fell into two categories: those arising from the body and mind, and those bursting forth from the heart.
Emotions originating from the body and mind often lacked solid support; they tended to come with a flourish and depart just as quickly. Even if one resolved to persist with unwavering will, such persistence would only bring pain.
Only emotions blossoming from the heart would endure, for actions driven by the heart's yearning would never feel tiring or painful; no matter how arduous or wearying, they would be sweet as nectar.
The theory was sound, but the human heart is a hidden chamber. Without the test of time, it was difficult to discern which kind of emotion, which kind of desire, truly resided within another.
"Professor, what should I do?"
Percy asked with great earnestness.
Lockhart looked at him deeply, then offered a slight smile, gesturing towards the cabinet before him. "Begin by using a Scouring Charm to clean it."
"Huh?" Percy was utterly taken aback.
He opened his mouth to speak, but the professor continued to indicate the cabinet. "Use a Scouring Charm. It's the quickest way to clean it."
Percy felt a touch of disappointment, but he didn't hesitate to draw his wand, meticulously waving it towards the cabinet as he cast the spell, "Scourgify!"
The effect was rather good. The cabinet quickly transformed from a dull, dusty state to one of vibrant colour. It had a deep green and wine-red wood grain texture, both ancient and strangely captivating.
"Too deliberate," Lockhart instructed, drawing his own wand and giving it a gentle flick. "You see, it doesn't require such rigid adherence to the standard wand movements described in textbooks. Of course, I'm not suggesting you simply wave your wand wildly."
"Your wand movements, the intonation of your incantations – all must follow the guidance of your own heart."
"You have clearly grasped the importance of resolute will, but I need you to relax a little. The magic you're performing isn't beautiful at all."
"You must genuinely desire for this cabinet to become clean and beautiful."
Percy wanted to say that he wasn't interested in learning how to better perform such domestic magic, but he still didn't refuse, diligently trying to follow Professor Lockhart's guidance.
Perhaps this was because he was accustomed to obeying the commands of those he deemed superior.
But as he repeatedly adjusted his technique and his mindset according to Professor Lockhart's instructions, as he completely immersed himself in the practical application of this spell, he inexplicably felt a peculiar sense of tangible reality.
It was a feeling he had never experienced before.
It was as if his past paths had always been elusive, ethereal, and without firm footing, but now, he suddenly felt a grounded sense of reality, as if his feet were firmly planted on the earth.
And so, in a wonderfully strange moment, he began to forget his desires, to forget the petty concerns within his heart, quietly and serenely entering the world of the Scouring Charm.
One time.
Another time.
And yet another.
He waved his wand, moving through every corner of the small house, tireless in his work.
He didn't see Professor Lockhart behind him, smiling, seemingly nodding in great satisfaction.
"Let's see," Lockhart mused, deciding to observe the young man a little longer. He suddenly felt a flicker of anticipation for Percy to master his Weather-Modifying Charm, and then, to spite Dumbledore for mocking his inability to teach others, to perform it right in front of him!
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