"Sorry to interrupt, Professor Lockhart."
The one knocking was, surprisingly, Vincent Crabbe.
Now that was rare. This big, slightly dim-witted guy was usually glued to Draco Malfoy's side or off scavenging snacks with Goyle. Seeing him alone doing anything was practically unheard of.
"No worries, come on in," Lockhart said, opening the door wide.
He glanced back and noticed Rita Skeeter had vanished. His little golden-haired friend at the window was curiously peering outside, pointing first at the spot where Rita had been sitting, then out the window.
Lockhart couldn't help but chuckle. Rita was clearly trying to save face, pulling off a dramatic disappearing act to prove she wasn't defenseless against his intimidating presence.
Big mistake doing that in his office, though. The little helpers from the Guardian's Home thought Rita was up to no good, and the boggart had already hopped on the Snallygaster to chase her down.
Erm…
Here's hoping Rita doesn't get too freaked out.
The Snallygaster was hard to miss. Sure, it looked like a small bundle when curled up, but when it spread its vibrant butterfly-like wings—deep blue on the front, glowing green on the back—it was bigger than the largest owl. When it soared, even the youngest Hogwarts students could spot its dazzling form, let alone a tiny beetle like Rita.
But Lockhart's Snallygaster wasn't your average beast.
Lockhart knew how to be a proper professor, and training the Snallygaster to better use its abilities was a piece of cake—especially since it was right in his wheelhouse.
The venom in the Snallygaster's barbed egg sac had a potent Memory Charm effect. Diluted into the water vapor of clouds, it could affect an entire city's worth of creatures. At first, Lockhart had taught it to release the venom so thinly that most wizards wouldn't even notice, wiping the memory of anyone who caught sight of it.
This wasn't his invention. His predecessor had gotten hold of a magical notebook from a brilliant Auror through a Ministry contact. It detailed this precise technique for manipulating Memory Charms, dubbed "Muggle-Proof Wizardry." With it, the Auror could stroll through Muggle streets unnoticed, with no one remembering they'd seen him.
The Snallygaster had mastered it well. It could sneak into the owlery, nab some owl feed, and slip out without anyone being the wiser. Lately, as Lockhart dove into Weather Charms, the Snallygaster had benefited the most. Its Memory Charm venom was now so refined it left no detectable magical trace.
Well, almost none. To Lockhart's trained eye, it was still obvious.
He'd strictly forbidden the Snallygaster from using its venom in his office, though. The way it released the toxin from its egg sac was starting to look suspiciously like… well, farting.
So, as the Snallygaster trailed Rita toward the Forbidden Forest, it was, ahem, discreetly releasing its micro-dosed venom. It even passed by Professor Kettleburn's Care of Magical Creatures class without being noticed.
Rita didn't linger in the Hogwarts grounds. She zipped straight through a tunnel under the Whomping Willow, racing along until she reached the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade. Hearing the distant bustle of village life, she transformed back into her human form and collapsed on the floor.
She stared wildly through the cracks in the door, laughing hysterically. "I'm not dead! Hahaha, I'm not dead!"
"Gilderoy! You can't catch me!"
"No one can catch me!"
"Hahahaha…"
She wanted to burst out into the village, to stand among the crowd where she'd feel safe, to scream and shout and let out all her fear.
But she couldn't.
She was utterly drained, sprawled on the floor, gasping for breath. Her laughter turned manic, then twisted into coughing, and finally into sobbing.
She'd never felt so humiliated!
So unfair!
As a Ravenclaw renowned for her intellect, with exceptional magical talent and the cunning to hide it, she'd navigated the world after graduation without ever being outsmarted.
Never!
Not once!
But just moments ago, in Lockhart's office, she'd felt like a trembling bug under a demon's gaze—terrified, vulnerable, expecting to be squashed at any moment.
"Gilderoy… Lockhart!" she hissed, each syllable dripping with venom. Her eyes, once filled with fear, now burned with a rebounding malice and hatred so intense it drove her to want to tear him apart.
Just you wait!
Did he think she had no way to fight back?
"You…"
"You calling me?"
A warm, radiant voice came from behind her—so familiar it sent a chill down her spine, triggering an instant, gut-wrenching panic.
Rita froze. Her fingers, clutching the rickety wooden door of the Shrieking Shack, tightened as if letting go would make her collapse. She swallowed hard, trying to convince herself.
It's a hallucination. It's a hallucination!
But her eyes didn't lie. A shadow loomed over her, cast on the door, its edges blurred like some clawed, monstrous beast.
"Rita, you calling me?" the voice asked again.
She could no longer deny it. She even started worrying that ignoring Lockhart might anger him—how rude of her!
Her glasses were slightly crooked, but she didn't dare adjust them. Her neck turned stiffly, slowly, to look behind her.
She saw a pair of finely crafted shoes.
It was a small habit of hers—judging people by their clothing, especially their shoes, to gauge their status. And these were unmistakably the shoes Lockhart had been wearing today.
Her heart sank. No more illusions, just cold reality.
Her eyes widened, practically popping out, as her gaze crept upward, heartbeat pounding like a drum. The crooked glasses distorted her vision.
Finally, she looked up and saw Lockhart's dazzling smile. She'd noticed his smile evolve over time—from charmingly perfect to this warm, steady, yet almost whimsically free radiance.
"Gil… Gild… Gilderoy!" she gasped.
His gaze, looking down at her, felt like a hand squeezing her heart, suffocating her.
"You calling me?" Lockhart asked again.
That question was the final blow, shattering her defenses. Her head lolled to the side, and she fainted.
"!!!"
'Lockhart' gave her a peculiar look, then wrinkled his nose at a foul smell, quickly stepping back from the unconscious woman.
Honestly, the boggart had initially planned to transform into a Dementor to drag Rita Skeeter back. It didn't quite understand why she'd fled the office like that, but her sneaky exit clearly wasn't part of Lockhart's plan. Bringing her back might've helped.
But it changed its mind.
Following the instinct of its magic, it morphed into the form Rita feared most.
It was really good at this.
And, just like so many times before, it watched as someone scared themselves silly through the mirror of its transformation.
It had even scared a wizard to death once—though it never understood why that man died of fright at the sight of his wife's form. But it could be that terrifying.
Rita, though? Not scared enough to die—just enough to pass out.
Now what?
Back in the day, a boggart wouldn't care about someone wetting themselves—it was all the same to a non-living creature like it. But after spending so much time with Lockhart, it was starting to pick up some… humanity, or at least a sense of biology.
This scene was kind of gross.
The boggart turned to the Snallygaster. "How about you take her back?"
No way! The Snallygaster, spooked by the boggart's current form and worried it might actually be Lockhart giving that order, flapped its wings and dove back into the tunnel to Hogwarts. See ya!
Some friend you are!
The boggart sighed, staring at the unconscious witch. Luckily, the rustling weeds in the corner of the Shrieking Shack relayed a message from Lockhart: Come back, don't worry about her.
Perfect!
The boggart twisted and morphed, instantly taking the Snallygaster's form, and zoomed back through the tunnel.
This was a skill it had honed with Lockhart's help. It could now "store" the fears it had sensed and "reload" them without needing Lockhart to adjust his own emotional state to find the right fear each time.
It was even starting to experiment with becoming a mirror for people's happiest thoughts—a far more mischievous trick.
Imagine Harry Potter seeing a boggart turn into his mother, Lily. He'd lose it.
Either way, Lockhart's little crew was growing alongside him, unlocking their potential and even developing a touch of biological awareness.
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