Gilderoy Lockhart In The Sack

"Professor Lockhart, do you want to be famous?"

Hearing this, Lockhart paused and looked up, bewildered, at the young wizard standing before him.

Want to be famous?

Lockhart couldn't help but chuckle.

Who is he?

The most prestigious travel writer in the wizarding world, a recipient of the Order of Merlin 3rd Class, an honorary member of the Anti-Dark Magic League, and a five-time winner of the Witcher Weekly Award for Most Charming Smile...

With so many honors, this little wizard dared to ask if he wanted to be famous?

"Of course!"

Lockhart nodded with a smile.

Who would refuse the feeling of being in the spotlight, basking in everyone's admiration?

Moreover, he was curious to see what kind of attention this talented little wizard could bring.

"Professor Lockhart, you know about Filch, right?"

Lockhart's smile faltered slightly at Luke's question.

He had two choices: either to try and persuade Lockhart to follow him to the Chamber of Secrets or to force him using the Sharingan.

Ideally, Lockhart would follow willingly. Using the Sharingan would be more troublesome, especially since Lockhart had a Dark Arts Defense class today.

"Oh, the Petrified Filch?"

Lockhart's interest was piqued, and he fixed his eyes on Luke.

"Do you know who did it?" he asked softly.

This event alone wouldn't make him famous in front of reporters, but it was well-known at Hogwarts. Still, it might be a thankless task.

"You should tell Headmaster Dumbledore about this," Lockhart replied with a shrug.

"That's not what I'm talking about," Lukechuckled, shaking his head. "As a Ravenclaw, you must have heard the legend of the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets?"

"The basilisk?!" Lockhart's eyes widened, momentarily forgetting to correct Luke's lack of honorifics.

Normally, Lockhart would teach this genius young wizard about respect. As an outstanding graduate of Hogwarts, Lockhart had, of course, heard the legend of the Chamber of Secrets and its basilisk. If it were just a legend, he wouldn't be so panicked, but the basilisk is a real magical creature. Its eyes can kill with a glance, and even through mediums like glass or water, it can petrify.

He recalled the petrified Filch from a few days ago...

"By 'chance of fame,' you mean—the basilisk?" Lockhart put down his quivering quill and squinted at Luke, who was smiling.

Killing the basilisk would bring him fame beyond measure. With his connections, it would be easy to earn another Merlin Medal. But it required surviving the encounter first.

"After several days of investigation, I've found the location of the basilisk," Lukesaid, meeting Lockhart's gaze with his pale blue eyes.

He could see that Lockhart was clearly flustered. Had the mere mention of the basilisk thrown him off balance?

"So, Professor Lockhart, will you come with me?" Lukecontinued. "This is a great opportunity to become famous. How much fame do you think you'll gain by killing the basilisk?"

Lukesmiled, enjoying Lockhart's panic beneath his calm exterior. "Don't you like being famous? The opportunity is right in front of you. Or don't you want it?"

"I don't think we can handle this honor alone. We should inform Headmaster Dumbledore or... Fudge," Lockhart said, fidgeting with the ring on his finger as if it would bring him some comfort.

"But with those rings and your exceptional spellcasting, shouldn't that be enough to deal with a basilisk?" Luke's voice was soft, yet clear in the quiet office.

"And didn't you claim in 'My Magical Me' that you killed a basilisk?"

Lockhart leaned back in his chair, suddenly feeling uncomfortable in his pristine white robes. Although he enjoyed fame, Lockhart wasn't naive. He wouldn't have been sorted into Ravenclaw if he were.

"Listen, Mr. Geralt," Lockhart began, his tone more serious. "This is not something we can handle alone. That basilisk has been around for nearly a thousand years. With ten rings and a master-level Obliviate charm, we still wouldn't stand a chance."

"So I think we should inform Headmaster Dumbledore and then maybe have some dessert," Lockhart suggested, attempting to sound casual.

Lukechuckled at his response. Was Lockhart afraid to take action?

"In that case..."

"Professor Lockhart, I once met a traveler who told me a story identical to one in your unpublished book," Lukesaid, pretending to be puzzled. "The strange thing is, when I saw him later, the traveler had completely forgotten about it."

Though the traveler was fictional, the content was real. Lockhart's expression changed as he picked up his wand from the table.

"So you've known about my secret for a while?" Lockhart admitted, no longer hiding the truth.

"Was the basilisk thing just a test for me?" he asked, a hint of sneer creeping into his voice. "I must say, you did well."

"But haven't you wondered why those seasoned adventurers lost their memories after encountering me?" Lockhart continued, his initial nervousness replaced with a smug grin.

Lukeshook his head. "No, the basilisk is real," he said calmly. "But I'm curious how you graduated from Hogwarts with just the Obliviate Charm."

Sunlight filtered through the patterned glass, casting a golden glow on Lukeas he spoke. Lockhart's eyes widened at the mention of the Obliviate Curse, and he quickly raised his wand.

"Obliviate!" he shouted.

But when Lockhart looked at Luke, he saw that his once-azure eyes had turned a deep scarlet, with three slowly rotating sickles inside. Lockhart's wand slipped from his grasp and clattered to the ground.

"Honestly, you still have a class to teach today, and I'd prefer not to use the Sharingan on you," Lukesaid, shaking his head in disappointment. "It's troublesome, after all."

Realizing that gentle persuasion wouldn't work, Lukeresigned himself to a more forceful approach.