Chapter 83 — The Adventure Begins: A Father's Last Request (Part 1)
Lockhart believed he had done everything humanly possible.
He had never spent this much effort teaching even young wizards. From the academic foundations and theoretical logic of magic to the intuitive, fairy-tale-like approach to casting spells, he had explained everything—down to the smallest detail: the precise angles of each wand movement, the correction of incantation intonations—tirelessly teaching all the way until dawn was about to break.
He had racked his brains to make it work.
Physically speaking, the intense mental exertion of recalling vast amounts of magical knowledge and explaining it in a way that Lyall Lupin could grasp had pushed him to the brink of exhaustion.
His mind buzzed with echoes of a dozen frantic incantations, pounding at his frayed nerves. A lesser wizard might have passed out long ago from the strain.
And yet—despite all of that…
Lyall Lupin still couldn't learn the spell.
Honestly, Lockhart felt that after a whole night of this, he could probably cast the spell himself.
He simply didn't want to try in front of Lyall, for the sake of maintaining his image. It would be far too awkward if he failed.
In truth, Lockhart's understanding of the "Restoring to Human Form" spell had reached an impressive level thanks to this crash course. Sometimes, he could even answer Lyall's questions on the spot with insights he hadn't consciously realized he knew.
Come on, man. Give me something to work with.
But sometimes, you just have to face the facts—Lyall wasn't a magical prodigy in the original story either. Like Professor Kettleburn, he was more of an academic type.
Lyall looked deeply apologetic.
The more he saw Lockhart watching him with hopeful eyes as he waved his wand, the more pressure he felt—and the less he could perform.
To be honest, he hadn't successfully cast the spell even once the entire night.
"I think there's something I need to make very clear," Lockhart said, glancing at the time with a particularly serious expression. "You do understand the difference between knowing, mastering, and perfecting a spell, don't you?"
Lyall stared blankly at him, unsure why this was being brought up.
"I have to leave shortly for some urgent matters. I don't know if you'll be able to learn it on your own after I'm gone."
He gestured toward the werewolves in the cage. "Even if you do manage to learn it, remember what I said—knowing it doesn't mean you've mastered it, and mastering it is far from perfecting it. Just because you can cast the spell doesn't mean you're ready to face a real werewolf."
There's a reason werewolves often succeed in attacking wizards. Why did Voldemort use them as instruments of fear and chaos? Because they're viciously fast.
They come at you with terrifying ferocity and venomous strength. Their speed alone overwhelms most wizards—forget about casting spells, many don't even have time to react.
And in the chaos of real combat, you need more than just the spell. You need situational awareness, adaptability—
—And sometimes, a little luck.
What Lockhart feared most was Lyall letting the werewolf out of the cage, convinced he was ready to handle it. The result would be catastrophic.
In that case, Lyall might finally get to reunite with his son Remus—as fellow werewolves, they'd no longer have to fear hurting each other.
Or, maybe Lyall would just save his son from the pain of watching his father die. By dying first.
"Don't worry," Lyall said, with the steady demeanor of a Dark creature expert. He was deeply moved by Lockhart's sincere warning. "I've spent my life dealing with Dark magical creatures. I know how terrifying these 'non-beings' can be."
He walked Lockhart all the way to the secluded public Floo fireplace, talking the entire time.
He spoke of his life's research into werewolves, the suffering his son Remus Lupin had endured, and his desperate efforts to save his broken family. Despite being nothing more than a bookish academic, he had forced himself to overcome his nature. He broke Ministry laws to shelter a werewolf, violated the Statute of Secrecy to obtain shady resources from the Muggle world. Who knew what kind of mindset he had to adopt to do those things, how much it took to break free from the cage of his old life?
By the time they reached the fireplace, Lyall's voice was trembling. This middle-aged man, respected and accomplished in the eyes of others, bowed his head humbly, eyes pleading as he looked at Lockhart.
"Professor Lockhart… I—please, I'm begging you!"
"Dumbledore said you're a top expert in the defense against Dark magical creatures—"
He probably had never begged anyone like this in his life. His face flushed with embarrassment, yet he looked so desperate that if Lockhart had so much as hinted at being willing to try, Lyall might have dropped to his knees in gratitude.
"I—I don't know how I can repay you. I know this has nothing to do with you, but please…"
Lockhart sighed and patted his shoulder, meeting his eyes with sincerity. "My path in magic is already set toward the study and confrontation of Dark magical creatures. But Lyall, I can't give you a false hope. You know this—this werewolf issue has plagued the wizarding world for centuries. So many master wizards have tried to solve it, and none have succeeded. I can't promise you anything unrealistic."
Lyall's eyes dimmed.
But then Lockhart gave him a bright, beaming smile. "That said… if you don't mind, would it be alright if I drop by your lab from time to time?"
"You—you're agreeing?!" Lyall exclaimed, then quickly waved his hands in a fluster. "Oh! Of course, I mean—yes, yes! You're welcome anytime in my lab!"
He watched as Lockhart stepped into the green Floo flame and vanished, yet couldn't bring himself to look away for a long time.
Meanwhile, back at Hogwarts, another anxious figure was waiting for Lockhart's return.
Severus Snape.
Despite having already tried to talk him out of it multiple times, Snape once again attempted to dissuade him—this time, right before Lockhart was to set off with the young wizards.
"Gilderoy, I still don't agree with you taking them on this so-called adventure!"
He'd clearly gone over it in his head countless times, worry etched into every word.
With the Dark Lord's sightings increasing and Death Eaters stirring, taking students out of school seemed like an unwise move.
Truth be told, this generation of young wizards simply couldn't compare to the last.
Even Nymphadora Tonks—who had graduated just last year and been recruited into the Auror Office, which hadn't taken new members in years—was no exception. Nor were the few current standouts: Percy Weasley in sixth year, Cedric Diggory in fourth, or even second-year Hermione Granger. Talented as they were, none of them were like Snape himself, who in his fourth year was already inventing powerful and practical spells, or like James Potter and his friends, who had mastered the complex art of Animagus transformation and created the legendary Marauder's Map.
The difference was stark.
Snape knew that if real danger struck, he could have held his own back then—but could these kids be relied on?
And if he and Lockhart were merely there to babysit Harry and the others, what would be the point of calling it an "adventure" at all?
Lockhart listened quietly, attentively. Once Snape was done, he asked in return, "Severus, if they can't even face an adventure like this… how can you expect our 'Chosen One' to ever stand against the Dark Lord?"
Snape fell silent.
"Adventure is what leads a wizard onto the path of magic," Lockhart said gently. This time, he spoke not with the flamboyant flair of his "fairy-tale magic" lectures, but with calm conviction that carried even more weight.
"In my view, magical achievement comes from two things: talent and the wisdom earned through life experience."
"Discovering your talent, stepping into a fairy-tale mindset—those things happen on the road of adventure."
He wasn't taking the students on a field trip just for fun. Lockhart wanted them to live out his motto—"step into the fairy tale, and magic will bloom." That was the path to unlocking their true magical potential.
It was something he had always tried to cultivate in his classroom.
If Harry and the others were ever going to face Death Eaters—much less Voldemort—they couldn't afford to stay coddled in safety.
But clearly, this wasn't all Lockhart wanted to say.
His eyes turned dark and thoughtful as he looked at Snape. "Severus… do you believe in my fairy-tale theory?"
Snape nodded. "I can see the students improving."
"Then," Lockhart flashed a dazzling smile, "would you consider walking this path of magic too?"
"???"
Snape stared at him, dumbfounded, mouth open but speechless.
"You invented so many powerful spells back in school," Lockhart said, half-laughing. "Back then, everyone—including me—thought you were destined to become a top-tier wizard like Dumbledore."
He tilted his head with a curious smile. "Weren't you?"
Snape didn't answer. He simply remained silent.
"Have you ever considered this—"
"The Dark Lord once feared and respected powerful wizards like Dumbledore. But over time, he became someone who could challenge even them."
"Severus… have you ever thought that maybe, if you stayed on the magical path, you might be able to defeat him yourself?"
"!!"
Lockhart left it at that.
He didn't just want more allies to fight Voldemort. He also wanted to help this old friend of his, who seemed forever stuck in the pain of his first love from school, finally stand tall again.
Snape, who had invented spells like "Sectumsempra" in his sixth year—what could he become if he found that fire again?
Snape didn't speak. His face remained blank.
But Lockhart could tell—Snape was moved.
Maybe, just like when Lockhart had first persuaded him to start writing a book, Snape would act indifferent at first, but begin working on it in secret.
This was a good start.
And with that—
Time to depart!
To set sail for the sea of stars!
Destination: The Białowieża Forest!