After leaving Hogwarts Castle, Lockhart didn't rush back to London. Instead, he first went to Hogsmeade, the magical village next to the school.
He wasn't there without purpose, of course. He wanted to leave a deep impression on the students' parents, so he came to buy some things, and also to lay the groundwork for his ambitions.
After a long shopping spree, he stuffed his purchases into his suitcase, which had been enchanted with an Undetectable Extension Charm, and contentedly arrived at the largest pub in town—the Three Broomsticks.
He had barely stepped into the pub when someone inside spotted him.
"Gilderoy Lockhart!"
The landlady of the pub abandoned the customers she was serving and rushed straight to the door.
"Good afternoon, Madam Rosmerta."
Lockhart flashed his signature smile and bowed to the landlady.
Rosmerta's eyes practically sparkled: "You haven't been here in ages. Recently, I... oh, is everything going well?"
Lockhart gently winked his left eye, or rather, gave a flirtatious glance: "Thanks to you, it couldn't be going better... Is the wine I stored still here?"
"Of course! I put it in the best spot in the cellar. So... the usual? A large glass of aged Ogden's Old Firewhisky, with an ice sphere and two spoonfuls of soda?" Rosmerta asked eagerly.
"Of course, or... have you invented any unique new secret recipes recently?" Lockhart asked, feigning ignorance.
"Of course I have, would you like to try it?" Rosmerta asked proudly.
Lockhart chuckled: "I'm a very shy person, and I've never been good at refusing a lady's kindness, especially a beautiful lady's kindness."
"Still as smooth-tongued as ever!"
Rosmerta chided him playfully, then walked towards the bar.
Perhaps having overheard their conversation, the customer Rosmerta had abandoned earlier seemed somewhat displeased.
"Hey! I want a drink personally mixed by Rosmerta too!" shouted a wizard who wasn't wearing a wizard's hat, revealing a bald head.
Rosmerta deftly slipped past him: "Alright, one Galleon a glass, otherwise no deal."
"What? That expensive? Then why does that pretty boy get it?" the wizard yelled.
Rosmerta's favoritism towards Lockhart was blatant: "If you can personally take down a werewolf, and also distinguish between different vintages and origins of the same wine, I'd be happy to mix a drink for the hero in my heart."
Seeing the wizard look his way, Lockhart said no more, but instead found a seat by the side and sat down.
Although he disliked the atmosphere of this pub, Madam Rosmerta was someone Lockhart wanted to befriend.
If he remembered correctly, in the original story, this woman's social circle was astonishingly wide. Not only did many young wizards from Hogwarts know her, but even Hogwarts professors had a good relationship with her. Even Minister for Magic Fudge and the goblins liked her, and even invited her to sit down for a drink when they visited.
Of course, this might also be related to her striking figure and face.
In short, as long as he maintained a good relationship with her, Lockhart could use Rosmerta as an intermediary whenever he needed to meet someone in the future, which would be much more convenient.
Besides, being with a pleasant-looking lady is always relaxing for the senses, isn't it?
The roaring wizard from earlier seemed to want to cause more trouble, but Lockhart secretly pointed his wand, tucked in his sleeve, towards him, and then the wizard sat back down and started drinking sullenly.
Lockhart quietly breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that no one nearby had noticed his actions.
He had just cast a silent Confundus Charm, making the wizard mistakenly believe he was a heavy drinker and in a very good mood today.
After realizing that he had inherited the original owner's memories and his basic spellcasting skills were surprisingly poor, Lockhart had to find a way to re-plan his magic system.
There was no other way; let alone fighting Voldemort and the Death Eaters, even for daily self-protection or maintaining his "brilliant image," he had to find a way to improve his magical strength.
Although there were no "spell slots" like in D&D, a person's energy is limited, so even if a wizard learned all spells and understood their principles, they would still have spells they excelled at and those they were less proficient in. Even for an all-around wizard like Dumbledore, Transfiguration was his ultimate trump card.
And the Memory Charm was Lockhart's specialty, so his magic system would definitely have to be configured around it.
Because the core of the Memory Charm is to confuse the target's memory and thoughts, as a "prerequisite skill" for the Memory Charm, Lockhart found that his talent in the Confundus Charm and Hypnotism Charm was also quite good. In addition, he quickly relearned some mental spells, such as the Bloodlust Charm that enrages people, the Slowing Charm that delays a person's thoughts, and spells that cause hallucinations.
Conversely, Lockhart's mastery of Transfiguration was a disaster.
Aside from a series of Transfiguration spells, elemental spells like Fireball, Water Prison, and Hurricane Charm were completely beyond Lockhart after he tried them. However, spell-based charms like the Shield Charm, Accio, and Severing Charm were much better. For spells that directly affect the human body, such as the Bone-Shattering Charm and the Stunning Spell, Lockhart's performance was slightly better, but still far from his mental spells like the Memory Charm.
So, the Confundus Charm he secretly used on the bald wizard earlier went unnoticed, even though there were many people present—these were the results of Lockhart's diligent training over these past few days.
It seems I can still fight to some extent, Lockhart thought.
For someone like him, who was in organizational work, he didn't have particularly strong backing. If he didn't have some real skills himself, how could he command respect from his subordinates?
...Rosmerta went into the back room of the bar and soon reappeared with a silver tray, placing a drink and a plate of Scottish shortbread cookies on his table.
"Lambert didn't bother you, did he?" Rosmerta asked with concern.
"Is his name Lambert?... No, he's busy drinking his sorrows away, he might have something on his mind." Lockhart picked up his glass.
Rosmerta glanced over there: "He certainly does have something on his mind... his lover ran off with someone else."
"Oh?" Lockhart suddenly became interested, "Tell me about it, drinking alone is so boring."
"You rascal!" Rosmerta playfully scolded, but she didn't refuse.
Spreading gossip was one of Rosmerta's inherent hobbies, otherwise she wouldn't have chosen to open a pub.
She animatedly told Lockhart: "Lambert originally had a childhood sweetheart, a witch named Yennefer, but recently she became infatuated with a long-haired, white-haired Muggle, I think his name was Geralt or something, and she dumped him. So, lately, he's been picking fights with anyone who's even slightly handsome."
"That's truly pitiful." Lockhart said sympathetically.
"But why do I see schadenfreude on your face?" Rosmerta exposed him.
"No such thing."
He took a sip of the drink she had brought and firmly denied Rosmerta's accusation—this was a basic quality of a civil servant, never saying anything that would make him liable.
Then he changed the subject: "Hmm... you added a bit of honey, which doesn't surprise me at all, but you also added a touch of cherry juice? It's unique, but the taste is really good, it pairs well with the faint savory notes in the aged wine."
Rosmerta's attention was indeed diverted: "Oh my, absolutely right! I truly wish I could cut out your tongue and preserve it as a magical mouth, so it could taste newly brewed wines for me every day."
Lockhart dared not take her words as a pure joke; after all, this was the wizarding world.
However, he was quite confident in his wine tasting abilities, as it was a classic topic in political clubs, and he would have found it difficult to rise through the ranks without being able to taste wine.
Seeing that the time was right, Lockhart stated his purpose.
"Rosmerta, I've recently discovered a great opportunity to earn Galleons in the Muggle world, but I don't have much in the way of pounds—that is, Muggle currency. Could you introduce me to Mr. Ragnok at Gringotts Bank?"
If Lockhart remembered correctly, Ragnok was one of the leaders of the goblins at Gringotts. Bill Weasley had even tried to persuade him to join the alliance against Voldemort, but unfortunately failed in the end.
Rosmerta showed a disappointed expression: "I knew you wouldn't just come to see me for no reason."
"How could that be?" Lockhart put on his thick-skinned act, "I need to earn enough Galleons to come and see the beautiful Rosmerta often. Things here aren't cheap."
"You get what you pay for. Every time you come, you order the most expensive wine, so don't blame me for things being expensive here. Look at those young wizards, they're perfectly happy drinking a Sickle-a-bottle Butterbeer."
"Butterbeer... spare me, that's a calorie bomb. As an idol wizard, I have to constantly watch my figure." Lockhart made a face.
"Really?" Rosmerta subconsciously glanced at Lockhart's chest and saw the outline of muscles through his tailored jacket.
Indeed, whether scrawny or portly, wizards rarely had good physiques outside of Quidditch players because they didn't often need to use their muscles, even though there were muscle-enhancing potions.
Lockhart, however, was an exception. He took great care of himself, so even though he was 28 this year, his face and physique were no different from a young man's.
Rosmerta felt a warmth spreading through her.
"Perhaps I can help with that," she said. "But Mr. Ragnok is very busy. Even with the lure of gold, it will take him some time to make time... Would you like to stay here tonight?"