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Chapter 51 - Lockhart's Secret (Part II)

"Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts?" Gilderoy Lockhart sneered. "That position is cursed. For decades, no one's lasted more than a year in the job."

"Three suffered permanent injuries and will spend their lives in St. Mungo's. Six became disabled. Eleven couldn't find work after leaving the post... and one even died—Quirinus Quirrell, my Prefect back when I was in Ravenclaw. Died under mysterious circumstances, and Dumbledore never gave any explanation. Even if you offered me ten thousand Galleons, I wouldn't take that job!"

"Then why did you become our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?" Jon already had a good idea, but kept a puzzled expression on his face.

"A terrible accident, nearly a year ago," Lockhart muttered, curling his lip. "I must've been out of my mind. I decided to write a book on the History of Magic and set my sights on a witch living in Godric's Hollow—Bathilda Bagshot. You'd never believe it, but that scruffy, ugly old witch in a patch-covered robe turned out to be a friend of Albus Dumbledore. And just my luck, the moment I was about to cast a Memory Charm on her, Dumbledore showed up to visit!"

Jon silently mourned for Lockhart. His experience was almost exactly what Jon had suspected.

"Dumbledore caught me red-handed!" Lockhart flung his suitcase aside and collapsed onto the sofa. "I thought he'd send me straight to Azkaban. But instead... he made me an offer!"

"To become Hogwarts' Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Jon fought back a grin.

"Exactly!" Lockhart shook his head helplessly. "If not for that, who in their right mind would accept this damned job? I even thought about running, but Dumbledore's magic is beyond imagination, and his informants are everywhere across Europe... I had nowhere to go!"

"I told him outright—I don't know much beyond the Memory Charm. I couldn't possibly teach his students anything useful."

"But Dumbledore said it didn't matter—he only needed me to act the fool. Basically, act like a famous Squib who's good for nothing else... especially in front of Harry Potter. I just had to make him dislike me!"

As he spoke, Lockhart waved his wand. One by one, the photos floated down from the wall and zipped into his suitcase.

"I got seven O's on my OWLs—how could I not be able to handle a bunch of Cornish pixies? How could I not even cast a Disarming Charm..." He seemed to be muttering to himself.

Now Jon understood everything. No wonder Dumbledore had picked a "charlatan" like Lockhart to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. It was all part of his "Potter training plan."

By presenting Harry with a negative role model, he hoped to make the boy develop a distaste for such empty fame—and in doing so, help him mature quickly.

It actually made a lot of sense... but it was tough luck for the students who genuinely wanted to learn that year.

Then Jon suddenly thought of something else. "Professor Lockhart, didn't Dumbledore say he wouldn't send you to Azkaban? Then why..."

"I overdid it!" Gilderoy Lockhart sighed. "Too many students and parents complained about my teaching. At first, during the Chamber of Secrets attacks, no one paid me any attention. But once the Slytherin monster was taken care of, more and more letters of protest—even Howlers—started arriving at the school."

"Some Hogwarts parents are influential wizards with special channels and powerful connections. It didn't take long—once the Howlers exposed me, my secret was out!"

"Dumbledore told me that many parents jointly submitted a letter to The Daily Prophet, detailing the truth behind my so-called accomplishments... In just a few hours, when tomorrow's edition hits the stands, every wizard in Britain will know I'm just a fraud who abused the Memory Charm. The Dementors sent by the Ministry of Magic to arrest me... they'll already be on their way to Hogwarts."

"So... Professor Lockhart... you..." Watching his former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher pack in a frenzy, Jon seemed to understand.

"Yes, I have to leave!" Lockhart nodded. "Before the Ministry realizes what's happening."

"Where are you going?" Jon asked curiously.

"France, for now. Romantic Paris, sunbathing beauties on the Seine... sounds like my kind of place." Lockhart shrugged. "But if the Dementors keep chasing me, I'll have to keep running. Spain, Gibraltar, even Algeria. Dementors can't stand the heat."

His packing was already complete.

"Then farewell, Jon—my student!" Picking up his suitcase, Gilderoy Lockhart walked to the door.

Then he paused.

"As a teacher, I'm ashamed that all I ever did for you was sign a few autographs..." He reached into his pocket and rummaged around, finally pulling out a small white booklet.

After hesitating for a few seconds, he tossed it over.

"This might be the only magic I'm actually good at. Not sure if it'll be useful to you." As he walked out of the office, Lockhart gave one last playful smile. "Not that it'll do me any good now, huh?"

With that, he vanished into the darkness without looking back.

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