Riding a colossal Patronus during a mass Apparition was a truly magnificent experience.
Upon arriving at Hogwarts, everyone seemed absolutely thrilled, excitedly chattering on the grassy expanse by the Black Lake, near Hogsmeade Station.
Lockhart had thought they'd be discussing the Dark Lord, or perhaps their recent encounter with Dementors. He never expected so many to be talking about a ship.
"Huh?"
He glanced around, quite bewildered, for a moment wondering if he'd lost his memory and a crucial bit of the 'plot'.
"Yes, we all saw it, and if you didn't, that's your problem!" Ron gloated, looking at Draco, then turned to his two henchmen behind him and asked, "What about you two? Did you see it?"
Goyle shook his head blankly, and Draco sneered, convinced the Boy Who Lived and his chums were just trying to stir up a fuss for attention. Then he turned and saw Crabbe nod.
"I saw it too. It was really old and ragged, and the sails were blood-red, like they were made of pure blood."
The young witches and wizards were chattering away, some saying it was a ghost ship from a fairy tale, others theorizing it might be some Dark Lord's magic, meant to counter Professor Lockhart's Patronus.
It wasn't just Harry's group talking about it; nearly all the students were.
Lockhart blinked in surprise, then, after a moment's thought, raised his wand to his temple, delving into the deepest recesses of his memory.
At that moment, he had been casting three powerful spells simultaneously: the Patronus Charm, Apparition, and the Thundery Mountain Fire.
His mind had been stretched to its absolute limit, constantly on guard against Voldemort, and he hadn't noticed anything else. He had no recollection of this phantom ship the students spoke of.
Thankfully, he had a way to peer into his memories.
Memory was like an enormous, boundless cogwheel. A gentle nudge of the wheel, and time flowed, quickly bringing his thoughts back to that precise moment.
If anyone had observed his eyes then, they would have seen the reflection of rapidly flickering scenes.
Arriving at Hogwarts and setting down the students, the blur of Apparition, the confrontation with Voldemort...
Then, it paused.
The scene in his eyes began to shift up, down, left, and right, finally settling on the image of a large ship behind and to his side.
"Crikey!"
Lockhart gasped, utterly clueless as to where this thing had sprung from.
Logically, it shouldn't have appeared at all. He had seemingly transported the students en masse through space, but in truth, he had merely used memory as an anchor, traversing the time axis, journeying into the Hogwarts of memory, and then returning to the Hogwarts of reality.
It was a purely internal, mental activity, not a physical displacement in space.
So...
Where had this phantom ship suddenly popped up from?
He gazed up at this ragged, blood-sailed ghost ship he had absolutely no memory of, and a sudden sense of awe washed over him—an awe for the wizarding world's endless mysteries and its bewildering, bizarre nature.
This thing had appeared there, utterly defying all logic, as if it were a sneer at the magical path he had chosen and the magical theories he had constructed.
"This is impossible!"
He desperately wanted to deny this completely illogical sight, yet he had to face its undeniable reality.
It was just like Voldemort's terrified shriek after Lockhart had cast the Killing Curse upon him, as if his entire worldview was crumbling.
Fortunately, he wasn't alone.
Pink tendrils rapidly emerged from his body, coalescing into a jellyfish-like form in mid-air. It swiftly transformed, eventually becoming the Wretched Fairy, who floated down and perched on his shoulder.
"That's a Dark Arts creature!"
The Wretched Fairy provided the answer.
"A Dark Arts creature?" Lockhart was rather shocked.
"Yes, don't you wizards call Dark Arts creatures 'non-beings'?" the Wretched Fairy observed the phantom ship. "This is a non-being. It sails on the river of time, perhaps never meant for anyone to glimpse even a trace of it. Your spell just now allowed it to be seen."
"What is it? What can it do?" Lockhart was quite excited, his gaze fixed intently on the thing.
The Wretched Fairy shook its head. "I only know it's a Dark Arts creature; it's a feeling of kinship, but I don't understand the specifics."
Just then, a voice drifted from afar – "Professor, did you summon that phantom ship?"
The scene in his mind's eye rapidly rewound, collapsing back into the reality of the Black Lake's grassy bank at Hogwarts.
He focused his gaze, seeing many young witches and wizards gathered around him. One older student was looking at him expectantly; it was clear he was the one who had just asked the question.
Lockhart offered a mysterious smile. "Now is not the time to answer that question."
Because he didn't know either.
---
Thankfully, Professor McGonagall and Hagrid, who had rushed over, drew the students' attention. Hagrid took the first-years to the lake for the traditional boating ceremony – a Hogwarts entrance ritual unchanged for centuries – while Professor McGonagall instructed the student representatives and prefects to guide the other years back to their dormitories to await the Great Feast announcement.
"How are things over there?" Lockhart asked, somewhat concerned.
From what he knew of Voldemort, the old villain probably wouldn't run straight back into Dumbledore's wand now. But who knew if the influences Tom Riddle, via the diary Horcrux, had exerted several months ago during the full moon, would change the Dark Lord's current state.
Especially since he knew Dumbledore had also been meddling with Voldemort's Horcruxes that day, but hadn't told him what he'd done.
"He's vanished. Everyone else has been sent to the Ministry of Magic. Dumbledore will be presiding over the trials at the Wizengamot, so he likely won't be back tonight."
Professor McGonagall looked around at the students, sighing in relief. "It truly is fortunate, Professor Lockhart. If you hadn't been here, I dread to think what terrible things might have happened."
Lockhart smiled and shook his head. "I imagine Dumbledore would have had other contingencies prepared; they simply weren't needed because I intervened. The students will be fine."
Professor McGonagall's expression became peculiar. "Indeed, everyone will say that Dumbledore arranges everything perfectly."
But was it truly so?
Professor McGonagall, of course, believed her dear friend Albus was the most powerful wizard of their time, but this great wizard's power probably had little to do with 'scheming' or 'planning'.
Grindelwald's Blood Pact had been retrieved for Dumbledore by Newt.
The Qilin, said to be able to choose the next leader of wizards, had also been saved by Newt.
Voldemort was vanquished by Lily Potter.
And Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic, was perpetually seeking opportunities to undermine Dumbledore.
Professor McGonagall had seen it all with her own eyes.
At least in her view, Dumbledore was simply an old man with ordinary abilities outside of magic, steadfastly bearing the immense responsibilities that the world had thrust upon the 'most powerful wizard', struggling forward.
If Dumbledore hadn't gotten entangled in all of this, he would undoubtedly have been the most legendary wizard in history, rather than merely the 'greatest' wizard of the contemporary age.
But she clearly wasn't one to gossip behind others' backs. She merely kept her face straight to avoid laughing, then beckoned Lockhart to the Great Hall. "Dumbledore has found a new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, a man named Remus John Lupin. I think before he officially begins teaching, you should perhaps speak with him about your 'fairy-tale romantic drill' concept."
"After all..."
Professor McGonagall looked back at Lockhart, quite appreciative. "You have truly changed Hogwarts entirely. We all hope to continue this transformation; it has made both students and staff feel invigorated."
Lockhart smiled and nodded. "My pleasure."
During the summer, he had even found time to visit Lyall Lupin's laboratory. With some research results he had provided, Lyall's experiments on werewolves had entered new phases.
Perhaps Remus would want to know what efforts his father was making.
They discussed Lockhart's upcoming tenure as the Care of Magical Creatures professor for the new school year. McGonagall seemed rather reflective. "This year will likely not be peaceful. The school must strengthen its vigilance, Gilderoy. I must advise you, for at least the next six months, it would be best to stay within the school grounds and not visit Hogsmeade Village."
Lockhart quickly understood. "Because of that book I published?"
Professor McGonagall nodded. "Today's attack is merely the beginning of hidden currents, far from the end! Professor Lockhart, prepare for the challenge; there will surely be many more things awaiting you!"
She didn't know how to describe Lockhart's book.
When she'd stumbled upon it in a street bookshop in Italy during her summer holiday, she truly couldn't help but lose her composure and utter a rather unladylike curse.
She was utterly stunned.
Were young people nowadays truly this bold?
Previously, everyone had firmly believed that if Voldemort ever returned, his first target would undoubtedly be Harry, and then Dumbledore. But now, no one was certain, for Voldemort might despise Lockhart even more than he hated Harry.
Then she received an invitation from Dumbledore to participate in a secret meeting for the official re-establishment of the Order of the Phoenix.
She had expected this formal re-ignition to revolve around Harry Potter, but to her surprise, it was all about Gilderoy Lockhart.
The times were subtly shifting.
She had a strong intuition about it.
Having lived such a long life, she knew all too well that the greatest difference in the ebb and flow of the wizarding world compared to the Muggle world was the emergence of one wizard after another who led an era, whether for good or ill.
Gellert Grindelwald, Albus Dumbledore, Voldemort...
And now, Gilderoy Lockhart!
For a moment, she began to regret inviting Lockhart to Hogwarts as the Care of Magical Creatures professor. Compared to Dumbledore's tireless efforts to maintain the wizarding world, her own life was purer, dedicating most of her energy to Hogwarts, wanting no mishaps to befall the school.
Perhaps...
This was destiny.
She scrutinized Lockhart, her expression serious. "Never underestimate any wizard! Always remain humble! I once told Dumbledore this, for he too had a period of arrogance, and I know what stage wizards with powerful magical abilities can reach."
Lockhart nodded earnestly. "Thank you for the reminder. I shall be mindful."
He certainly knew how common it was for even the most formidable figures to come undone, like Grindelwald being overthrown by Newt, or Voldemort being killed by Lily's rebounded curse. These titans who reached the pinnacle were the clearest examples.
"I will move back into Hogwarts..."
Lockhart said, then suddenly looked towards the Forbidden Forest, raising an eyebrow. "I wonder if you would permit me to build a small cabin there myself?"
"What?" Professor McGonagall blinked, her composure almost breaking.
"To live in the Forbidden Forest," Lockhart explained his request. "I wish to be closer to nature. It holds the answers to my magical path ahead."
Professor McGonagall eventually agreed.
Although she found the request rather peculiar.
Since becoming Deputy Headmistress, Defence Against the Dark Arts professors had come and gone, and other classes occasionally saw changes too, alongside the numerous teaching staff. But Lockhart, asking to live in the Forbidden Forest, was a first.
"I shall ask Hagrid to provide you with some assistance."
Splendid!
Lockhart began to look forward to his life at Hogwarts.