One evening in the Room of Requirement, Amelia's eyes narrowed, a teasing tilt to her lips. "I have to ask… how are you looking better than before? Your muscles are actually showing through your robes."
Gilderoy's grin widened, giving her a playful wink. "Ah, my dear Amelia… are you implying admiration, or perhaps something more?"
Amelia rolled her eyes, a faint blush rising. "Don't flatter yourself, Lockhart."
"Flattery aside," he continued, voice smooth, "it's simple. A strict regimen of running at dawn, and a touch of Muggle strength training. Discipline, dedication… and, of course, natural charm." He gave her a wink.
Amelia tilted her head, curiosity piqued. "Running… I know about that from Quidditch training. But Muggle exercises? What do you mean?"
Gilderoy feigned shock, placing a hand dramatically on his chest. "Why, my lady, it's the key to true stamina, strength, and focus. Wizards rely too much on magic, you see. This… builds endurance, muscles, and sharpness."
"Muscles? Strength?" she echoed, skeptical. "I've never… trained like that before."
He leaned closer, lowering his voice with a sly glint. "I don't think you even need it, my lady. I can see… you're already naturally gifted." He gave a playful leer.
Amelia huffed softly, shaking her head, though a faint smile tugged at her lips, betraying her amusement at his playful flirting.
Curiosity won over, so the next morning she joined him in his workouts, wearing Muggle leggings and a shirt.
"You look Good, Amelia." Gilderoy called as she approached from a distance. "Tell me, how did you even know about Muggle clothes?"
She shrugged lightly. "My father runs a trading business in teas and spices. It was founded by my great-grandfather, so our family's been dealing with Muggles for generations. I've spent plenty of time in their markets and warehouses. You pick things up—like how they dress, and what's actually comfortable to wear."
Gilderoy let his gaze roam over her with exaggerated flourish. "Well, you look absolutely fabulous."
She really does look insanely hot. Hogwarts robes should be banned. I didn't know she was hiding such a body under all those layers…
"Though, you know… half the castle would faint if they saw you like this. They'd call you a scarlet woman for daring to wear such Muggle attire."
Amelia smirked, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Then let them faint. I'd rather trip their sensibilities than trip over my robes."
As they start running, Gilderoy's eyes widened. "Wait… does this trading business supply all of wizarding Britain?"
Her lips curved in that same sly smile. "What do you think?"
"You're rich, Amelia," Gilderoy breathed, half-teasing, half-in awe.
She rolled her eyes, though a faint flush touched her cheeks. "Rich? Hardly. Comfortable, maybe. My great grandfather built this business with hard work, not vaults of inherited Galleons. Don't lump us in with the Malfoys."
He grinned. Maybe she can be my sugar mommy.
Amelia gave him a look, as if she could read his thoughts. "And don't get any ideas, Lockhart. My family's business doesn't make me an easy target for your charm."
He flashed her his most disarming smile. "Oh, Amelia, I don't need your vault to be interested in you. You're priceless enough."
For the briefest moment, colour bloomed across her cheeks, but she turned away quickly, smothering it with a scoff. "Idiot," she muttered, before breaking into a jog again.
Gilderoy fell into step beside her, grin widening at his small victory. Soon they completed their run , both pausing to catch their breath.
"Alright, first things first," Gilderoy said, spreading his arms in a slow, deliberate motion once they had finished resting. "We begin with something simple: squats. You'll want to keep your feet shoulder-width apart, back straight, and—very important—don't let your knees pass your toes. Here, watch me."
He demonstrated, every movement precise yet fluid, the muscles in his arms and chest flexing under his shirt in a way that made the sunlight glint off his skin. Even in casual motion, there was a strength that spoke of power and control.
Amelia's eyes flicked to the subtle swell of his biceps, the line of his torso shifting with each squat, and she felt a faint stir she tried to ignore.
"Notice the posture, Amelia," he continued, voice low, almost velvety, "it's about control, not just dropping down and standing up."
She attempted a squat, wobbling slightly. "Like this?" she asked, brow furrowed.
"Not bad," he said, stepping closer. His hands brushed lightly against her waist as he guided her down, lingering just enough to make her pulse jump.
His eyes flicked over her with a dark, appraising intensity, and his smile held something more than encouragement. "Lower, but keep your chest up—yes, like that. Inhale, exhale. Strong, steady rhythm."
Amelia flushed, catching his gaze and quickly looking away. Every subtle movement, every brush of his fingers on her body seemed loaded, teasing, and she realized she was acutely aware of the warmth radiating from him.
"Excellent!" he praised, voice dipping into a tone that was almost intimate, making the words linger in the air like a caress. "Learning quickly, as expected of you."
"Now, the classic," Gilderoy announced, dropping to the ground with smooth precision. "Hands under your shoulders, body straight, lower slowly, then push up. Easy—watch me."
He moved through the push-up fluidly, the flex of his chest and forearms commanding attention. As he shifted, his hand brushed hers in the slightest adjustment, sending an unexpected jolt through the air between them. Amelia felt her skin prickle, her breath catching, but the words he offered—practical, measured—belied the tension that lingered in that contact.
"Technique, my lady," he said, sliding closer as she followed, "elbows in, not out. Less strain, more strength." His proximity was intoxicating, his subtle heat brushing against her as he steadied her arm. Amelia's cheeks burned, her thoughts momentarily scattered by the raw, undeniable allure of his presence.
Finally, lunges. He sprang upright with a grace that made the movement look effortless. "Step forward, bend the back knee, keep the front steady—elegance and strength in one motion."
He moved behind her, hand lightly grazing her shoulder while the other steadied her hip. Each word he murmured sent shivers racing across her skin, as Amelia tried to focus on the exercise. She mimicked him, wobbling on the first try.
"Careful," he murmured in her ear, adjusting her stance. "Balance here. Don't rush it." His hands lingered lightly, guiding, but the closeness made her breath come quicker, her skin prickling under the subtle heat of contact.
"You're enjoying this far too much," she accused, half-smiling, trying to mask her flustered pulse.
Gilderoy chuckled, not denying it. "What can I say? Guiding you is… the highlight of my day."
By the end of the session, Amelia was sweating, her muscles aching in all the right ways. Gilderoy wiped his forehead, pretending exhaustion. "See? Muggle workouts aren't so bad, are they?"
She shook her head, breathing heavily. "I never realized how much technique mattered… thank you for guiding me."
He smirked, offering a hand to help her get up. "All part of the service, my lady.
Her breath, however, never quite settled. Gilderoy's touches had left her far too flustered, her heart racing for reasons beyond exercise. Heat pooled low in her belly, and to her mortification, she realized her panties were damp from the way he had guided her, touched her, lingered just a little too long.
Her pulse thundered in her ears as she forced a smile, hoping he wouldn't notice the way she squeezed her legs together. "I… I should go," she stammered, her voice unsteady. Amelia spun on her heel and rushed toward the castle.
Gilderoy stood where she had left him, watching her bolt toward the castle. Confusion flickered across his features, but it was quickly replaced by a slow, knowing smirk when his gaze drifted down to her retreating form.
There, on the fabric clinging to her behind, he caught the faint outline of a damp patch. His chest swelled with satisfaction.
So, it wasn't just the workout that left her breathless…
He dragged a hand through his hair, grinning to himself as the last traces of her figure disappeared into the castle doors.
That's when he remembered—only a few more days until the full moon.
Just a few more days until the full moon… and then, Animagus training begins.Finally. I'll get to see the magical chaos of transformation firsthand…