I stand before the stone griffin guarding the entrance to the Headmaster's office, taking a moment to admire the craftsmanship. According to Hogwarts records, this guardian was hand-carved by Godric Gryffindor himself, a detail I can't help but appreciate. In the books, it was described as an ugly gargoyle, but this version looks closer to the film's design; majestic, imposing, and far more dignified. Much more my style, so it won't need to be replaced if I ever decide to take the mantle of Headmaster.
"I'm here to meet the Headmaster," I announce to the sentient statue.
"Password," replies a gruff voice from within the stone.
"Gummy bears," I say confidently. Dumbledore changes the password once a week, always choosing the last sweet he's eaten, unless, of course, he's already used it before. He has his principles.
"You may pass."
The griffin rotates in place, stone grinding softly as a spiral staircase rises beneath it. I jump in just as it begins to ascend. Why bother climbing when I can ride it up like an elevator? A bit of flair never hurt anyone.
When it stops, a polished wooden door waits before me. I raise a hand to knock, but before my knuckles touch the surface, Dumbledore's calm voice drifts through. "You can come in."
Such a classic power move.
I push the door open and step into the Headmaster's office, a grand circular chamber alive with quiet magic. Oddly shaped instruments hum and click on polished brass stands, filling the air with the soft ticking of secrets. Shelves groan beneath ancient tomes whose covers practically whisper to one another. None of them, I'm sure, are from Dumbledore's private collection, but they're rare enough to make even my fingers itch.
And there he sits: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, the man often compared to Merlin himself. Frankly, I suspect the resemblance is intentional on his part. The long silver beard, the half-moon glasses, the eccentric robes, too deliberate to be a coincidence.
At the moment, he's pretending to sort paperwork behind his claw-footed desk. A classic misdirection. As if I, Gilderoy Lockhart, master of showmanship and subtle deceit, wouldn't recognize another actor at work. I'll grant him this, though, he's good, really good.
Behind him, portraits of past Headmasters line the wall. Most are pretending to nap, though I can feel their curiosity like a breeze. Their eyes aren't as closed as they'd like me to think.
"You wanted to see me, Albus?" I say, dropping the formalities as I seat myself in the plush armchair that materializes in front of his desk. The old wizard's lips twitch upward, he's clearly pleased I've skipped the 'Headmaster' title. As he's never been one for stiff etiquette.
"Indeed, Gilderoy. I asked Minerva to summon you because there were some things I wished to discuss." His eyes twinkle as he pops a bright yellow sweet into his mouth.
"Would you care for a lemon drop?" He gestures toward a crystal bowl filled with them.
"I would never say no to a good sweet," I reply, scooping up a handful. Some might think this foolish, what if he'd laced them with Veritaserum or a loyalty draught? Please. You've clearly read too many Dark Lord Dumbledore fanfics. These are muggle candies, and any potion residue would be obvious to someone with my magical sensitivity. I pop them into my mouth, savoring the sharp lemon tang.
Dumbledore watches with a faint, approving smile. I take my time; one minute, two, and finally swallow the last candy before leaning back comfortably.
"Well then," I say as I lean back comfortably. "Fire away. What did you wish to talk about?"
"Before that, would you like some tea?" he offers.
I accept, and with a lazy wave of his Elder Wand, a porcelain tea set appears. I immediately begin dropping sugar cubes into my cup; one, two, three… ten. Only when I look up do I realize Dumbledore is still adding sugar to his. His cup has transformed from a beverage into syrup. I can only stare, impressed. And here I thought I had a sweet tooth.
He takes a sip, then, Merlin help me, adds another cube. Finally, he looks satisfied.
"How has Hogwarts been treating you, my boy? Enjoying your time teaching?" he asks pleasantly.
I taste my tea, add two more cubes for good measure, and smile.
"To be honest, before starting, I thought of this as little more than material for my next book."
A faint frown tugs at Dumbledore's brow, so I raise a hand.
"But after my first class… when I saw the awe in those students' faces, it did wonders for my ego, yes, but something changed. Especially with the first-years. When I saw their joy after casting a simple spell, it reminded me of myself. The day I first managed a 'lumos'."
I chuckle softly. "The light was barely brighter than a candle flame, but I waved it around and declared I'd be the next Merlin. Pathetic, really, but that's the magic of childhood, isn't it? What seems trivial to us means the world to them."
Dumbledore's frown melts away, replaced by a warm, grandfatherly smile.
"Since you've been honest, allow me to return the favor," he says gently. "I admit I had my doubts when I first hired you. But no one else applied, and well, I decided to give you a chance. I'm happy to see my trust was not misplaced. More than that, I'm glad you've found something genuine in teaching."
He looks content, the corners of his eyes crinkling softly. For all his faults, Dumbledore truly cares about this school. You can feel it in the air around him, the weight of decades spent nurturing young minds, sometimes at the expense of his own peace.
When I notice he seems to be done, I tilt my head in confusion. "Wait, that's it? You didn't have anything else to discuss?"
He strokes his beard, smiling. "There might have been a few other matters, but all my doubts have been answered. You're free to go."
I blink. Really? That's all? No hidden agenda? No cryptic riddles about destiny or some greater good bollocks?
"Well, since I'm already here," I say, leaning forward with a grin, "there are a few things I'd like to discuss as well."
His expression remains perfectly mild. "I'm all ears." he pops another candy into his mouth and looks at me from behind his half-moon glasses.
"Since I've found myself unexpectedly enjoying this job, I want to let you know, I'd like to stay next year as well."
That gets his attention. Dumbledore leans forward slightly, eyes sharp behind his glasses.
"But as you know," I continue, "no one's lasted more than a year in this position in the last four decades. Everyone says the post is cursed. And with a wizard of your caliber around, surely you could have broken it by now; unless, of course, it's more complicated than rumor suggests. So tell me, Headmaster, what's really going on?"
He sighs, a sound far older than his voice. For a moment, he seems every bit his hundred-odd years.
"I know precisely what the curse is," he admits quietly. "And I've done everything in my power to lift it. But the only solution is to locate the object to which the curse is tethered. I even consulted goblin curse-breakers, but none of them could offer an alternative."
He pauses, then explains, "It's a simple curse, in theory. You enchant an object and hide it in the place you wish the curse to affect. Until that object is destroyed, the curse persists. And before you ask, renaming the class or moving the room won't help. As long as the object remains hidden, the curse is unbreakable, and Hogwarts is… very large."
He glances toward the window, his voice softer now. "I fear it lies in a part of the castle that can only be reached by the one who placed it."
The Chamber of Secrets, I think immediately. Of course. But I also know better, it isn't the basilisk or anything in there that anchors the curse. It's almost surely Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem, which also doubles as one of Voldemort's horcruxes.
I lean back thoughtfully. "So, hypothetically, if I were to find and destroy this object, would that be enough to end the curse?"
"In theory, yes," Dumbledore replies placidly. "Once destroyed, the curse would fade. Slowly, over the course of several years; four, perhaps five if my calculations are right, until it spent its remaining power."
"Four years…" I mutter. So even if I do destroy it, I still wouldn't be able to stay. Unacceptable. The next few years at Hogwarts promise too many fascinating events, and too much inspiration for new books, to simply walk away. And, I must admit, I'm starting to enjoy teaching more than I expected.
I will have to think of another way to stay, but for now, I rise suddenly, setting my cup down with theatrical resolve.
"Then it's decided!" I declare. "I, the great Gilderoy Lockhart, shall be the one to lift this curse that has plagued our beloved school for decades! The students of Hogwarts will no longer suffer from poor educational luck!"
Dumbledore blinks once, then smiles faintly. "I'm sure they will be most grateful for your… contributions."
Unimpressed, yes, but amused nonetheless. And that's fine by me. I'll show him.
After all, if anyone can do it, it's me.
…
(Support with power stones or comments. You can subscribe to my Patreon /mysterion901 to read over 10 advanced chapters 🐢🎶)