Hogwarts: Harry Potter’s Return from the Witcher World

Lockhart wasn't asleep yet.

He stood before the mirror, captivated by his own reflection.

"Gilderoy, you're truly extraordinary," he murmured, his gaze dreamy and voice tinged with self-admiration. "Tomorrow, I should contact Rita and have her write me another glowing article. What kind of title would suit?"

"Hogwarts in Crisis, Lockhart to the Rescue"?

"Another Epic Feat: The Wizarding World's True Savior"?

As he pondered how best to flaunt his accomplishments, a white light streaked through the air and struck him squarely in the face.

It was a paper crane.

Before he could muster outrage or speculate which Gryffindor was behind the prank, the crane unfolded before him. Its elegant strokes of writing and the signature at the bottom sent a chill down his spine.

His expression shifted to one of alarm as he muttered under his breath. "Professor Dumbledore wants to see me... Could he have...?"

"No, it's impossible for him to know. But he's the greatest white wizard alive, incredibly powerful..."

"Oh, fine! Yes, I'll go now! Don't rush me. I'll make sure he doesn't suspect anything!"

He opened the door and hesitated with one foot outside, still uneasy. "Are you sure he won't find out?"

"Alright, alright, I'm going!"

He took off at a sprint, panting as he finally reached the headmaster's office.

"Gilderoy, thank you for coming on such short notice," Dumbledore said warmly, motioning for him to sit.

Lockhart let out a sigh of relief. With such a calm demeanor, it didn't seem like anything serious was amiss. Feeling reassured, he eased himself into a chair.

"I regret to inform you," Dumbledore began, his tone polite yet firm, "that you are hereby dismissed from your position at Hogwarts."

Lockhart shot up as if propelled by a spring.

"Dismissed?!" he screeched, his voice raw with disbelief. "Why?"

"My performance has been exemplary—"

Snape interrupted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Exemplary like a troll, perhaps? Even if we put Potter in your shoes, he'd do a better job without even trying."

"Fifth- and seventh-years are struggling," McGonagall added curtly. "They've been forced to seek additional guidance from other professors just to keep up."

"The material you teach is entirely inadequate for exams," she continued. "At this rate, not a single student will achieve even an 'E' on their OWLs or NEWTs this year."

Lockhart's face turned pale. He stammered out a weak defense. "No, you can't... I've contributed to Hogwarts! I founded the Duelling Club—"

"And a student was attacked because of it," Snape cut in without hesitation, placing the blame squarely on him.

Lockhart shrank back, speechless and visibly guilty.

Even without his protests, it was clear to everyone in the room that he had something to hide.

Dumbledore raised his wand, and a faint magical aura enveloped Lockhart. Harry, seated quietly to the side, felt it distinctly in the air.

After a moment, Dumbledore lowered his wand and continued.

"Minerva has already spoken to you about certain inappropriate behaviors involving students," Dumbledore said, his tone growing colder.

"You've made no effort to change and have continued to fraternize with them."

Lockhart stammered, "But it was... mutual consent—"

"You could wait until they graduate," McGonagall snapped, her voice trembling with rage. "What they do after they leave school is their business.

"But right now!" she continued, her tone scathing. "You're a professor, and they're students. What kind of vile person would exploit their position to pursue students?"

Lockhart bit his lip, seemingly making a decision. "I'll change! I promise I will, Professor McGonagall. I can't just leave like this. I wouldn't know how to explain it to my fans—"

"This isn't about leaving quietly anymore," Dumbledore interrupted, shaking his head. "I've discovered something far more troubling than your relationships with students."

Lockhart's hand instinctively moved toward his robe pocket, trembling as he gripped the fabric. His forehead glistened with sweat.

"I've always known you weren't as capable as you claimed," Dumbledore continued, twirling his wand idly. "But I thought you merely took credit for others' accomplishments, buying their stories and spinning them into your own."

He sighed. "I underestimated you. I thought you were just a mischievous boy who played petty pranks in his school days."

"But you didn't just take their stories. You took their lives."

"You extracted their tales and erased their memories with Obliviate."

Lockhart's eyes widened. "No! How could you possibly know that? I've never told anyone—" He froze mid-sentence, realization dawning on his face.

"You... you used Legilimency on me?" he stammered, horrified.

"I have a responsibility to protect my students," Dumbledore replied, his tone tinged with faint regret. "An incompetent professor has already harmed them enough."

"Will you hand me over to the Ministry?" Lockhart asked, his voice trembling like a child caught misbehaving.

Dumbledore didn't answer.

Snape snorted derisively.

McGonagall's eyes were filled with disappointment.

Lockhart squirmed in his chair, his nerves fraying.

"Tomorrow," Dumbledore said, rising from his seat. He approached Lockhart and gently tapped his shoulder with his wand. "We'll leave the castle together."

Lockhart looked up, dazed and hollow.

"Get a good night's rest," Dumbledore said softly.

Lockhart staggered to his feet and shuffled to the door. He paused, clinging to the frame as he looked back miserably. "Professor Dumbledore..."

"Good night, Gilderoy," Dumbledore said, waving his wand. Two enchanted hands emerged from the doorframe to gently guide Lockhart out. With a resounding slam, the door shut behind him.

"He doesn't seem like someone who's gained the Dark Lord's support," Snape remarked dryly.

McGonagall frowned faintly, disliking Snape's choice of words.

"Weaklings remain weaklings, even if they possess powerful artifacts," Harry said from the corner. He stood, eyeing Dumbledore. "I didn't expect you to act so decisively, Professor."

"Voldemort is a master of patience," Dumbledore replied, adjusting his glasses. "We can't afford to be passive forever."

He turned to the two professors. "I still couldn't find the artifact on him."

"Severus, Minerva, I'll need you both to help keep an eye on him tonight."

"I'll fetch Professors Flitwick and Sprout," Snape said as he left, casting a Patronus to summon them.

"Professor, I'll return to the dormitory," Harry said, excusing himself.

Snape trailed after him, following closely as Harry climbed into Gryffindor Tower. Only after Harry entered the common room did Snape turn away, casting a Disillusionment Charm and heading toward Lockhart's office.

Inside the common room, Percy was still standing guard. Seeing Harry return, he exclaimed, "Harry! When did you leave? And at such a dangerous time?"

"Professor Dumbledore called for me," Harry replied with a shrug. "Besides, Professor Snape escorted me back."

"Isn't that even more dangerous?" Percy blurted, standing up abruptly.

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Powerstones?

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