Final exams proceeded as usual, and then came summer break.
For students, summer meant relaxation and fun.
For Lockhart, however, it meant something else entirely.
He received an important letter.
To: Member Gilderoy Lockhart
Mr. Garrick Ollivander requires a new batch of wands. He has recently applied to the relevant departments for permission to hunt a dragon, and approval has been granted. Due to a shortage of personnel, we hope you can take time from your busy schedule to accompany the operation and oversee it.
—Anti-Dark Magic Alliance
Being a member meant responsibilities.
So much for his summer vacation plans.
He also received a letter from Sirius Black, thanking him for helping clear his name and asking him to take better care of Harry.
Another letter came from Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge, enclosing a ticket to the Quidditch World Cup.
In truth, although Lockhart held Auror certification, he had never accomplished anything noteworthy during his time as one, nor did he have any personal connection with Fudge.
Is this hush money? Trying to keep me quiet about Sirius? Lockhart wondered.
There was no time to dwell on it.
He needed to meet Ollivander immediately.
In a few days, they would depart for the Atlantis Islands, where Lockhart's role would be to supervise the legal hunting of a dragon—and ensure its materials were properly used to craft wands.
In the wizarding world, wand production was strictly regulated.
In ancient times, when wizards first appeared, there were no wands.
Many magical creatures—such as elves and goblins—possessed far greater innate magical affinity than humans and occupied a superior position.
Then, a great wizard invented the wand.
Wands amplified human magical affinity.
More importantly, they allowed spellcasting to be externalized—away from the body.
This enabled wizards to safely cast destructive spells and dark curses.
(If such spells were cast directly through the body, the caster could be harmed—or even killed. Casting the Killing Curse through one's own body would result in self-death.)
With wands, human spellcasting became more powerful.
And humanity refused to share this secret.
Through war, humans subjugated other magical races.
Elves were nearly exterminated, with the remnants reduced to servitude as house-elves.
Goblins, unwilling to face extinction, chose to serve in exchange for survival.
Other magical creatures were driven into remote corners of the world.
Historically, every Goblin Rebellion stemmed from one demand:
To share in the secrets of wand-making.
And every time—
they failed.
Even though goblin magic was often stronger, they could not overcome wand-wielding humans.
In modern times, every wand was tightly controlled.
The process was rigorous:
Rare materials must be collected under the supervision of the Anti-Dark Magic Alliance
Wands must be designed to be unusable by non-human races
After creation, each wand must be registered with the Ministry of Magic
Then came further enchantments:
Tracking Charms
Memory Charms
The Trace
These allowed the Ministry to:
Detect the use of Unforgivable Curses
Monitor underage magic
Even review spells previously cast by a wand
Only after all this would the wand be returned to the maker for sale.
Of course, these enchantments could be removed.
But doing so required extraordinary skill.
And the moment such tampering occurred—
the Ministry would know.
Unless one intended to disappear from society—or openly oppose the Ministry—
no one would dare.
When Lockhart arrived at the designated port, most of the group had already gathered.
Among them, he recognized two people:
Garrick Ollivander, the wandmaker—
and Nymphadora Tonks, the trainee Auror.
"Ah! Young Gilderoy!" Ollivander greeted warmly. "I remember clearly the day you came to buy your wand. And now you're quite the famous figure."
"Hello, Senior Lockhart," Tonks said, a little nervously. "I'm really glad to be on this mission with you."
Her hair had even turned black from the tension.
After greeting everyone, Lockhart pulled Ollivander aside.
"Master, I feel like my wand hasn't been quite right lately. If possible, I'd like to replace it."
Ollivander looked surprised—but pleased.
"Of course! In fact, many wizards change wands after reaching adulthood, as their casting habits evolve. You've been using that one for nearly twenty years—I'm surprised you haven't replaced it sooner."
Lockhart felt a bit awkward.
No one had ever told him that.
"Thank you. I'll visit you after this mission."
"Anytime, my boy. Just say the word."
During the journey, Tonks chatted frequently with Lockhart.
He learned that she was actually his junior from Hogwarts—though he had already graduated by the time she enrolled.
Tonks was quite pretty.
Lockhart found himself intrigued—not only by her appearance, but also because she was a Metamorphmagus, the only one of her kind mentioned in the original story.
Her lively and outgoing personality suited him perfectly.
Tonks, in turn, admired Lockhart greatly—
a handsome, experienced wizard with a legendary reputation.
She constantly asked him to tell stories of his adventures.
In exchange, she would change her appearance into whatever he wanted to see.
Within days, the boastful Lockhart and the eager-to-listen Tonks became fast friends, chatting endlessly like old companions.
After several days at sea, they finally arrived at the Atlantis Archipelago.
The entire region was protected by powerful enchantments:
Muggle-Repelling Charms
Confundus Charms
To Muggles, the islands appeared as nothing more than barren, unremarkable land.
Even if a Muggle somehow managed to land—
they would be Obliviated
and promptly sent away.