"Professor Lockhart, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Severus Snape pushed open his office door and coldly addressed the uninvited guest outside.
"Oh, nothing, Severus, nothing at all!" Gilderoy Lockhart waved his hands quickly. "It's just that a lovely young lady told me you were punishing one of my favorite students in your office, so I thought I'd drop by to see what was going on."
"A lovely young lady?" Snape repeated mockingly, shooting a cold glare at the girl standing behind Lockhart.
Astoria Greengrass stood there awkwardly, clearly too nervous to meet her Head of House's gaze.
"You did well—very well, Miss Greengrass," Snape said, his tone completely devoid of emotion. "Punishment? No... I merely invited a student from my Potions class to help with a small task, and while we were at it, share a cup of afternoon tea. It's over now."
"You may leave, Hart!" With that, Severus Snape roughly pulled Jon up and shoved him out of the room.
"Then I won't keep you any longer, Severus," Lockhart said in his usual cheerful tone.
As the door closed behind Professor Snape, Astoria rushed over in a flurry.
"I—I heard from Daphne that you'd been called into Snape's office for punishment," she stammered. "I didn't know what to do... I wanted to find Professor Sprout, but I don't know where her office is... then I ran into Professor Lockhart, and he said he could help..."
"Of course!" Lockhart added proudly. "Miss Greengrass looked quite distressed, and once she told me what was going on, I was happy to assist a lovely young lady in a spot of trouble."
"Thank you, Astoria..." Jon gently patted the golden-haired girl's head, his voice full of gratitude.
"I..." Her face turned crimson in an instant.
"Pardon the interruption," Professor Lockhart cut in at an awkward moment. "But Mr. Hart, would you care to join me for another cup of afternoon tea? I don't have much time..."
That last line came out in a low, steady voice—completely unlike Lockhart's usual breezy tone.
Afternoon tea... again?
Jon frowned slightly, glanced at Astoria, then turned his eyes to the unusually solemn Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.
He gave the blonde girl's shoulder a reassuring pat, then turned back and said, "Sure, I suppose I've got time, Professor Lockhart."
...
This wasn't Jon's first visit to Gilderoy Lockhart's office on the fourth floor.
But this time, the smiling portraits of Lockhart that usually adorned the walls and desk had changed. All of them now wore unusually serious expressions, as if deep in thought.
"Thank you for your help, Professor," Jon said calmly as he stepped inside behind Lockhart.
"It was nothing," Lockhart shrugged. "Just this morning, Professor Snape asked me about something. He wanted to know whether I had borrowed three books from the Restricted Section on September 5th last year—Close Your Mind, Vicious Disfigurement Spells, and Most Potente Potions."
Jon's brow furrowed slightly. He instinctively took a step back.
"So I told Severus that yes, I'd checked out all three—and I even got a bit carried away discussing their contents with him. I'm pretty sure he thinks I was talking complete nonsense!" Lockhart winked at Jon. "And he absolutely won't suspect you."
"Why are you helping me, Professor Lockhart..." Jon slipped his left hand into his pocket, fingers closing tightly around the PSM pistol hidden inside.
Lockhart casually tossed his wand onto the bed and gave Jon a small nod. "Jon... I've told you before—you're my best student. What teacher wouldn't want to help their best student?"
Jon said nothing, lips pressed tightly together.
"In all of Hogwarts, out of all the students... you're the only one who's paid attention in every single one of my classes. I'm no fool, Jon... even if I act like one." Professor Lockhart laughed heartily, as if he'd just cracked a brilliant joke.
"I don't understand, Professor..." Jon masked his curiosity behind a confused expression.
"Oh, there's plenty more that'll surprise you," Lockhart continued.
"The truth is... I'm a fraud. All my books, all my so-called accomplishments—they're all lies! But you don't look as shocked as I expected, Jon. I'd wager you already guessed—at least part of it."
"I did suspect something," Jon admitted hesitantly. "Your behavior is very different from the way you describe yourself in your books..."
"Exactly! It's not hard to figure out. I'm sure most of the students have caught on by now—but you're the only one who still listened attentively. That's what truly sets you apart." Lockhart picked up a suitcase from the side and began stuffing it with photos, clothes, and other items.
"The hero who saved a village from a werewolf menace? That wasn't me—it was a grizzled old American wizard. The one who drove away the Bandon Banshee? A Scottish witch with a cleft palate. Traveling with ghouls, vacationing with a hag, living with a Tibetan Yeti—none of that was me." Gilderoy Lockhart spoke with practiced ease.
"My real job was tracking down these talented witches and wizards, gaining their trust, asking them how they pulled it off... and then wiping their memories with a well-cast Obliviate. That way, they wouldn't remember a thing."
"Why are you telling me all this, Professor Lockhart?" Jon had already discreetly flicked off the safety on the PSM pistol.
Lockhart snapped the suitcase shut and locked it.
Then he slumped into the sofa with a sigh.
"It doesn't matter anymore, kid..." He looked exhausted. "In a few hours, The Daily Prophet will publish the truth about my 'glorious career.' The whole world will know I'm just a fraud who abused the Obliviate spell. The Ministry will probably brand me a criminal and toss me into Azkaban."
"So, Jon... even if I didn't tell you now, you'd find out soon enough." Gilderoy Lockhart spoke with a hollow tone. "Why do you think I ever took this damn job in the first place?"