Back home, everything that had happened recently made Lockhart feel, for the first time, that he might not just be a fraud.
He had defeated a basilisk.
He had become the second person in history to survive the Killing Curse.
And he had obtained the Magic Enhancement Potion.
That potion—that was the real reason top-tier wizards stood above the rest. The true foundation behind ancient pure-blood families enduring for centuries.
He uncorked one vial.
Inside, a mercury-like liquid flowed slowly on its own, thick and heavy. A soft blue glow shimmered within it, like an entire galaxy contained in a single crystal bottle.
A label was attached:
Nothing in this world can increase a wizard's magic out of nothing. However, every individual possesses vast latent magical potential that is difficult to fully access.
This potion gradually unlocks all hidden magical reserves within the body.
Its effect is slow—taking approximately five years to fully develop.
If, after five years, your magical power still falls short of another wizard's, then you will never surpass them.
After drinking it, there was no dramatic transformation.
No pain.
No breakthrough.
Just a subtle feeling—
Like returning to the age of fifteen, when magic grew rapidly with each passing day.
Lockhart was currently planning his new book:
"Chasing a Basilisk Through Hogwarts"
His goal was simple—
Stay far away from Harry Potter and his cursed plotline.
Then, an owl arrived.
To Professor Gilderoy Lockhart,
On behalf of all staff and students, we are delighted to hear of your recovery.
We hereby invite you to resume your teaching position at Hogwarts. The students are still awaiting the completion of last term's Defense Against the Dark Arts final examinations.
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
Lockhart sighed.
He hadn't wanted to stand out.
But after ruining Voldemort's plans, staying away from Hogwarts would only invite trouble—both open and hidden.
He had no choice.
When Lockhart returned to Hogwarts, the school held a brief स्वागत ceremony in the Great Hall, introducing the "heroic" Defense Against the Dark Arts professor to the students.
It was also announced that Professor Lupin, who had been substituting, would step down at the end of the term.
Back in his office, everything was exactly as he had left it.
Students greeted him politely along the way—even the usual troublemakers from Slytherin.
Lockhart found he quite enjoyed this kind of respect.
It was different from admiration.
Fans adored him—but this was something else.
He had just sat down when someone knocked.
"Come in."
It was the Golden Trio.
Harry and Ron had grown taller.
Hermione—
He barely recognized her.
Before he could take a closer look, Hermione rushed forward and threw herself into his arms, crying.
"Professor… I'm so glad you're okay!"
Half a year had changed her.
She was taller now. Her pink top and fitted jeans accentuated a figure that had shifted from childish cuteness into budding grace.
Her skin was still pale, her features more refined. Her once-round face had begun to sharpen, her hair now smooth and well-kept.
Her brown eyes were filled with tears as she looked up at him.
Lockhart, who hadn't been with a woman in months, felt a flicker of impulse.
Thankfully—
Harry and Ron were right there.
Ron grumbled, "Professor, while you were gone, Hermione kept blaming herself every day. She practically wanted to die with you."
Hermione flushed.
Harry, more tactful, asked, "Professor, are you fully recovered? We were all worried."
"Much better," Lockhart said. "I've never felt better."
Whether it was surviving the Killing Curse or the potion—
He genuinely felt great.
He gently patted Hermione's back and helped her up.
She lingered for a moment before reluctantly stepping away.
Lockhart, on the other hand, was relieved—
Another second and things might've gotten awkward.
I should find a few female fans to 'catch up' with, he thought.
"How were Professor Lupin's lessons?" he asked casually.
"Pretty good," Harry said. "We learned a lot."
Hermione immediately objected.
"Not even close to Professor Lockhart!"
"When will you resume teaching?"
Lockhart waved it off. "Next term. I didn't prepare anything this semester."
"Professor, with your experience, you could just tell stories and it'd still count as class," Ron said seriously.
"Professor Lockhart is not irresponsible!" Hermione snapped.
Harry added, "Lupin's classes are fine. You should focus on recovering first."
Since when did the Chosen One become so considerate?
"Oh—we have to go," Hermione suddenly said, nudging the others.
"Something happened while you were gone. We're going to see Hagrid."
"Alright, go ahead," Lockhart said.
They left.
Lockhart had considered dating a student.
But—
Too much responsibility.
Too risky under Dumbledore's watch.
And worst of all—
It might cost him female fans.
"Casual relationships are best," he concluded.
After a while, he decided to visit Lupin—the man currently "substituting" for him.
As he approached the office, he saw Lupin hurriedly leaving.
They exchanged a brief greeting before Lupin rushed off.
Moments later—
Snape arrived, holding a cup.
"Professor Lockhart," Snape drawled, "the hero who survived certain death."
"You are, I must say, the first Defense Against the Dark Arts professor I've seen return for a second year."
He emphasized the title.
"What was it like—being struck by the Killing Curse? I imagine it was… inspiring enough for another book."
"And you are also the first professor I've seen nearly die trying to save a Mudblood student."
Lockhart frowned.
What is with this hostility?
Does Snape really want this position that badly?
He could have it.
Lockhart would gladly trade for Head of Slytherin.
"I believe a person's worth lies in their character, not their blood," Lockhart replied coolly.
"Do you check a student's blood status before deciding whether to save them?"
"'Oh dear, not a pure-blood, not from Slytherin—better let them die.' Is that how it works?"
Snape's expression darkened.
Lockhart pressed on.
"Frankly, I also find it hard to imagine a professor who washes his hair once every two months and spits venom in class would ever protect a student."
"The students would probably run away from the grease first."
He chuckled at his own joke.
Snape shot him a vicious glare.
"Tell me, Professor Lockhart," he said coldly, "what brings you here? Seeking advice from Lupin—the werewolf… I mean, the fool?"
"I came to build rapport," Lockhart said lightly. "Though I suppose you wouldn't understand collegial friendship."
Then he smirked.
"Or are you here to ask him to give you the Defense Against the Dark Arts position?"
"Unfortunately, he seems to have stepped out."
Snape's expression changed instantly.
He pushed the door open, checked inside, then rushed out—his face now filled with urgency—as he hurried after Lupin.
"Strange people," Lockhart muttered.
Shaking his head, he returned to his office and resumed reading a complex spellbook.