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Chapter Two: On the Train
Lockhart sat alone in a carriage, turning over ideas in his mind about how to make a good impression during his very first lesson. In the original timeline, he'd been mocked by his students—so perhaps this time, he ought to show some actual talent.
Just as he sank deeper into thought, a cheerful voice interrupted him. A brown-haired girl slipped into the carriage, eyes bright.
"Professor Lockhart, it's wonderful to see you here. I'm Hermione Granger."
Lockhart normally couldn't stand the over-excited adoration of his female fans, but this girl was different—this one was part of the famous trio who saved the wizarding world.
"Miss Granger, the pleasure is mine. Where's your friend Harry?"
"I'm not sure. He's with the Weasleys somewhere," she replied.
"Miss Granger," Lockhart said, deciding to probe a little, "this is my first year teaching. Could you tell me how previous Defence Against the Dark Arts professors taught their classes? Or what sort of teaching style you prefer?"
Hermione straightened happily—she clearly enjoyed answering questions. "Defence Against the Dark Arts is one of the most popular courses at Hogwarts. Everyone wants to learn how to defend themselves against dark magic. They say that after He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named failed to get the post, he cursed it—so every professor only lasts a year."
She looked at Lockhart with sincere admiration. "But I'm sure you'll break the curse, Professor. You're one of the best people in the world at dealing with Dark wizards, aren't you!"
"The Dark Lord's curse?" Lockhart raised an eyebrow. "Interesting theory, but I don't believe he'd waste his strength on something so trivial. And in fact, Miss Granger, I've met the Dark Lord before. He's not as powerful as the rumours make him sound. What's terrifying is his cruelty—and the number of Death Eaters under his command."
And the part where he's practically invincible, he added silently.
Hermione's eyes gleamed with excitement. "You've met You-Know-Who? Your life is incredible! I'd love to go on an adventure with you, Professor!"
She genuinely meant it—not just flattery.
Heh. Perhaps after you graduate, Miss Granger, Lockhart thought dryly. You wouldn't enjoy adventuring with me. I'd lurk out of sight and forget you the moment the excitement was over.
"Oh my goodness—what's that? A flying car!" Hermione suddenly shrieked, pointing out of the window.
Lockhart leaned forward. A Muggle car was wobbling through the air alongside the train. A boy dangled halfway out of the passenger door, one hand gripping it desperately.
"It's Harry! Professor, we have to help him!" Hermione cried.
Lockhart squinted—indeed, it was Harry Potter. He drew his wand.
"Don't panic, Miss Granger." He steadied himself and flicked his wand in a graceful arc. "Wingardium Leviosa."
Harry's body immediately lifted, weightless, and with the sudden support he managed to scramble back into the car.
"Professor, that spellwork was beautiful! I can barely make a feather rise…" Hermione breathed, eyes shining.
"It's nothing. Magic grows stronger as you grow older. When you come of age, your power will increase naturally—you'll be able to do this easily."
Lockhart tilted his head. "Why aren't Harry and the others on the train? Are they always this unconventional? No wonder they're called the Saviours."
"I've no idea. They always want to do something dramatic. They ignore school rules, and they always deduct all the points I earn!" Hermione huffed, remembering it all at once.
"Boys are like that—they want to show off for girls."
And he wasn't wrong—Lockhart had been just as childish at their age.
"That's so immature. I prefer someone more mature and sensible," Hermione said primly. "One day they're going to learn a very harsh lesson."
Lockhart had no comment. If every student were as grown-up as Hermione, there'd be no point in the rest of them being children at all.
"Professor, tell me about the time you met the Dark Lord. Why didn't you write a book about that one?"
(Because I didn't actually do anything in that battle.)
Lockhart brightened; boasting was one of his favourite activities—especially since his stories weren't technically fabricated.
"Well, it was just after I'd graduated from Hogwarts. Full of righteous fury, I took the Auror exams. Naturally, they were no challenge for me. I became an Auror, assigned to guard the Ministry of Magic."
He paused, recalling the terrifying memory with an appropriately dramatic expression.
"One night, the Dark Mark appeared above the Ministry, and a swarm of Death Eaters descended. Although the Dark Lord had the upper hand back then, none of us expected them to strike the Ministry itself. The Aurors couldn't simply wait to die—we flooded in through the Floo fireplaces, Aurors and Hit Wizards alike, to fight back. The battle was brutal. I was only a novice, hiding in the crowd and casting the occasional spell."
"When the Dark Lord himself appeared, the Minister of Magic stepped forward to confront him. To be honest, You-Know-Who was terrifyingly powerful—completely overwhelming the Minister. Of course, it wasn't a proper duel. We had the home advantage and greater numbers. But then one of our own betrayed us. He stepped out and fired a Killing Curse at the Minister from behind. The Minister was wearing a protective vest against the Killing Curse, but even so, the force knocked him unconscious."
"What's a 'Death-Protection Vest'? And… what about Professor Dumbledore? Isn't he extremely powerful?" Hermione asked.
"The vest is made by sewing small magical creatures into the lining—when a Killing Curse hits, they absorb it. As for Dumbledore, he'd been lured away and arrived too late. After the Minister fell, the battle was massacred into a one-sided slaughter. You're from a Muggle family—you can imagine what it looks like when people fall one after another. Even the protective vest couldn't withstand the Dark Lord forever. One spell, and a brilliant Auror was gone. It's strange to say, but he kills the most capable ones first. The better you perform, the more likely you are to catch his attention. That's how I survived."
"At that moment, Dumbledore finally burst through the fireplace. The Dark Lord could not match him, and Professor Dumbledore had brought reinforcements. Harry's father, James, injured the Dark Lord during the fight—but as you know, he later came for revenge."
Hermione stared, wide-eyed, sadness flickering across her face at the mention of Harry's parents.
"But the incredible Harry Potter avenged his father right there and then!" Lockhart added dramatically. "After the Dark Lord vanished, the Ministry didn't need so many Aurors anymore, so I resigned to pursue adventure. And that's how the stories you've read in my books came to be."
By now, the carriage was completely packed—students crowded around, hanging on every word.
"Alright, everyone, time to disembark. The Dark Lord won't be returning. If you'd like to hear more of my tales, feel free to buy my books—or look forward to Defence Against the Dark Arts this term. In class, I'll teach you how to defend yourselves against every sort of dark magic and evil creature!"
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