On the way from the Great Hall to the professor's office, she had a million things on her mind.
Lockhart patiently answered her questions, though truth be told, his mood was far from cheerful. As he stood on the moving staircases, nodding and smiling at young witches and wizards who greeted him with respect, his feelings were a bit of a mess.
He'd planned to just coast through this year.
But facing these kids, their faces full of admiration and thirst for knowledge, it was hard not to wonder: *Was he really going to waste an entire year of these children's precious time?*
"Bloody hell, my stupid sense of responsibility," he muttered to himself, gazing at the ancient, majestic castle, his heart suddenly heavy.
"Professor Lockhart, I've always had this big question," Hermione said, her words tumbling out so fast it was like someone was chasing her to get them out. "What's the essence of magic?"
"It's… uh?"
Lockhart started to answer as they stepped off the staircase, but her question caught him off guard. "That's something you could spend a lifetime figuring out. It's probably a bit early for you to be wrestling with that one."
"You seem like a really talented young witch," he went on. "I can sense that pride in you, the kind that comes with being exceptional. I bet you're ahead of your classmates—why would you ask something like that?"
This little witch was sharp, no doubt, but she was just a second-year, after all.
Hermione sighed, clutching Lockhart's *Magical Me* tightly to her chest. Still too young to hide her emotions, she looked a bit defeated. "I might never find the answer. I'm not actually that smart—I just work harder than everyone else."
Well, that was rare. The proud Miss Granger, looking all down in the dumps?
Lockhart smiled. "Have you asked any other professors about this?"
Hermione nodded. "I asked Professor McGonagall, but she just told me not to rush things, that it'd make sense when I'm older."
"And do you buy that answer?" Lockhart pressed.
Hermione shook her head. "I don't know. I mean, I'm not sure."
Her little face was so serious, scrunched up tight, that for a moment, Lockhart thought she looked like a mini McGonagall.
"I can always make magic work the way it's supposed to, and I get praise from the professors easily," she said. "But when I try to make it *stronger*, it never works."
She was so confused. "The same spells, in the professors' hands, are completely different—more powerful, more flexible, with so many variations. I don't know how to break through that barrier."
Classic Gryffindor, Lockhart thought, quickly sifting through his memories. Gryffindors tend to cast magic by the book, lacking a certain… flair and ease.
Of course, that was just a stereotype. In truth, when it came to combat, Gryffindors often showed more natural talent and grace with magic than anyone else.
"I read your autobiography," Hermione said, her eyes full of hope. "You grew up in the Muggle world, like me. Maybe your way of thinking about magic could help me."
She looked at him so eagerly. "Can you give me an answer?"
"Of course! Nothing stumps me. Nobody knows magic better than I do," Lockhart said with his trademark dazzling smile, leading her onward.
"I might just have the answer for you. It's a secret I've used to easily defeat plenty of powerful wizards."
Hermione's eyes lit up.
But Lockhart didn't give a straight answer. Instead, he said gently, "If you dig into historical records, you'll notice that wizards who lived through major magical events always ended up stronger than others."
"Like the four founders of Hogwarts, who lived during the terrifying witch hunts."
"Or fifty years ago, during the reforms to the Statute of Secrecy. That era produced so many powerful wizards—Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Grindelwald, Newt, Queenie, Credence…"
Hermione gasped, thinking she'd cracked it. "So, you're saying it takes the grind of battle to get stronger?"
"Not quite, or at least, not only that," Lockhart said, shaking his head. "Plenty of wizards and new-generation Aurors live in high-stakes combat environments today, and they don't necessarily get stronger for it."
Aurors were the backbone of wizarding society, their magical prowess in combat second only to the true masters.
But Lockhart, who'd dabbled in some pretty shady wizarding business himself, wasn't intimidated by your average Auror.
Unless he was up against a real heavyweight, he didn't give them a second thought.
Hermione looked lost. "Then what is it?"
Lockhart gave a small smile. "Fairytales. My answer is fairytales."
"???" Hermione tilted her head, confused.
"Yup, I believe the power of magic comes from fairytales."
"Magical creatures and beasts come from fairytales. Dark magical creatures come from twisted, grim fairytales. And the magic of wizards? That comes from fairytales too."
"Magic is the ultimate romance of a fairytale."
"If you want to know how to get stronger, my answer is this: immerse yourself in the romance of a fairytale."
"Live in that fairytale-like atmosphere, and you'll find your strength growing faster than you can imagine."
This was the original Lockhart's philosophy, one he'd figured out early on. It helped him shine during his school years and, after graduating, take down powerful wizards without ever failing.
Being a school celebrity was part of that fairytale romance. So was being a notorious thief of lives.
Some people were born for the spotlight, like his old schoolmate James Potter or Sirius Black, or now, the Weasley twins, George and Fred. Others chased it deliberately, like those active in school clubs or Quidditch—or like Lockhart, who worked hard to build his fame.
And it worked. Back in the day, he'd even managed to tweak Voldemort's Dark Mark, turning the skull into his own portrait. He'd bet most of his old classmates still couldn't pull that off.
Right now, Lockhart was witnessing the creation of one of the greatest legendary figures in the making: Harry Potter.
He called Harry's extraordinary journey, and the Order of the Phoenix's behind-the-scenes scheming, *"the birth of an epic hero."*
That, too, was part of the fairytale.
Becoming Harry Potter's professor—especially one who'd have a massive influence on him—and playing a key role in this epic hero's fairytale? *That* was the real reason the original Lockhart had agreed to Dumbledore's pitch to teach at Hogwarts.
"Fairytales?" Hermione's face scrunched up. She was a logical sort, and living a fairytale life? Yeah, that felt out of reach.
After all, wizards faced prejudice, but so did Muggles.
In fact, Muggles often looked down on wizards, pure-blood or Muggle-born alike, calling them freaks or lunatics. And the kind of people Lockhart was talking about, the ones living in a fairytale world—weren't they exactly the type to get labeled like that?
"So what do I do?"
Hermione took a deep breath, clenching her little fists, determined not to give up.
"The simplest way," Lockhart said as they reached his office, shrugging, "is to fight a great dark wizard or become one yourself. That's the purest fairytale there is. Of course, sometimes we have to face the limits of our abilities or luck. In that case, being the sidekick to a hero or a dark wizard isn't a bad choice either."