Hogwarts' Golden Glory

The therapist at St. Mungo's took off his glasses and shook his head at Professor McGonagall, Dumbledore, and Snape who were gathered around the bedside.

"The dark magic mark has penetrated too deeply," the healer said gravely. "We've removed the mark, but the spell circuit has been permanently destroyed. Simply put—Mr. Gilderoy will never be able to cast even a single 'Flicker' again in his lifetime."

Lockhart, lying on the bed, blinked his empty blue eyes, drool dripping from the corner of his mouth, and was trying to stuff the tassels on the pillow into his ears.

"And his...intelligence?" Professor McGonagall's voice was a little tense.

"His memories are all there, but his cognitive level is roughly... equivalent to a seven-year-old," the therapist said helplessly. "The good news is, he might become the happiest seven-year-old in the world because of this. Look—"

Lockhart successfully tucked the tassel into his ear, immediately clapped his hands and giggled, then pointed at Snape's smooth black hair: "A big bat! It can fly!"

Snape's face instantly turned as black as the bottom of a pot: "I think St. Mungo's should add a 'Permanent Silence Charm' treatment program."

Dumbledore patted Lockhart on the shoulder (who immediately grabbed his beard and started playing with it): "At least he's alive. Maybe we can give Gilderoy a position as a 'living doll'."

Professor McGonagall turned her head away, suppressing a laugh, her shoulders twitching suspiciously.

Because Lockhart is still a teacher at Hogwarts.

Dumbledore still brought Lockhart back to Hogwarts for treatment.

Sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows of the medical wing, casting a halo of light on Lockhart's light golden hair.

He sat upright on the hospital bed, a row of silver cutlery in front of him, his eyes focused as if he were preparing for the NEWT exam.

"Watch closely, Ms. Pomfrey!" Lockhart grabbed a spoon, took a deep breath, and then—broke it open with force.

The spoon made a teeth-grinding "crunch" sound as it bent at a ninety-degree angle.

"How about it?" He proudly held up his creation, his blue eyes sparkling. "Silent, wandless transformation! I wrote about this move in 'Walking with Trolls'!"

Ms. Pomfrey stared blankly at the row of "trophies": seven curved spoons, three twisted forks, and a knife twisted into a pretzel.

"That was brilliant, Gilderoy," she said dryly. "Now, if you can turn them back, I'll believe you've recovered."

Lockhart's expression froze. He stared at the pile of metal lumps for three seconds, then his eyes suddenly lit up: "Ah! I've got an even more amazing idea!"

He grabbed a new spoon, and this time instead of breaking it, he bit it with his teeth.

"This is... a preliminary exercise for the Beast Transformation Technique!" he explained indistinctly, the silver spoon handle creaking between his teeth.

The door was pushed open at that moment.

Professor McGonagall brought a group of third-year students to the medical wing for "basic first aid practice" and happened to witness this scene.

"Professor?" a Ravenclaw girl whispered. "Is Professor Lockhart...eating with a spoon?"

Professor McGonagall's lips twitched violently.

The twins behind her exchanged a glance, and George immediately pulled a silver coin from his pocket: "I bet he can finish the whole set of utensils!"

"I bet he'll break his front tooth first!" Fred said, pulling out his money.

"Ahem." Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. "Giddro, I think you need to rest."

Lockhart spat out the spoon covered in teeth marks and jumped out of bed in delight: "Minerva! You've come at the perfect time! Behold my newly created spell—"

He grabbed the glass kettle from the bedside table. "I can turn it into a rabbit!"

Then he slammed the kettle onto the ground.

"Bang!"

Glass shards and water splashed everywhere. Lockhart stood there, staring blankly at the mess: "Strange... the book said this would change things..."

Lady Pomfrey's wand was already raised: "Refreshed! Restoring to its original state!"

She turned and glared at Professor McGonagall. "Take him away. Immediately. Otherwise, the next medical supplies bill will be sent to the Transfiguration Department."

The twins were trying so hard not to laugh that their faces turned bright red.

George sidled up to Lockhart, his face serious. "Professor, I think your 'Shattering Transformation' move just now has a lot of potential! Why don't you demonstrate it in the Great Hall? It's lunchtime!"

"Really?" Lockhart's eyes lit up again. "I knew someone understood my art!"

Professor McGonagall grabbed Lockhart by the back of his hospital gown: "You, come with me to the principal's office. Now."

"But my spoon—"

"If your 'magic' can restore these spoons to their original state, I'll let you teach a lesson in Transfiguration."

Professor McGonagall dragged him out, her voice escaping through clenched teeth, "If you can't, you'll be responsible for cleaning all the tableware in the medical wing for a month."

In the hallway, Lockhart was still gesturing excitedly: "Minerva, do you think I could apply for the Order of Merlin? For magical innovation—"

"Shut up, Gilderoy."

"Or perhaps start a column?"

"I said, shut up."

Their figures disappeared around the corner of the corridor.

Inside the medical wing, Ms. Pomfrey rubbed her temples wearily, while the twins were laughing so hard they rolled on the floor.

"Merlin," George said, wiping away tears of laughter, "if Defense Against the Dark Arts is like this next semester, I'm applying to transfer."

"Where to?" Fred gasped. "Is there a funnier school than this?"

......

Professor McGonagall dragged Lockhart, who was still making the "shattering transformation" gesture, into the principal's office.

Dumbledore is studying a plate of lemon-orange candy that moves on its own.

"Albus," Professor McGonagall pressed Lockhart into a chair (who immediately began playing with the griffin statue on the armrest of the chair).

"The Medical Wing has formally submitted its expulsion request. Additionally, the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is vacant—we need to decide on a successor immediately."

Dumbledore blinked. "So fast? Gilderoy only rested for three days."

"In three days, he bent twenty-seven spoons, ate three glasses, and even tried to turn Ms. Pomfrey's hat into a 'singing parrot'."

Professor McGonagall remained expressionless. "Although he failed, he successfully tore the hat apart."

Lockhart looked up proudly and said, "That's a preliminary exercise for the Flame Summoning spell!"

Just then, the office door was kicked open.

Sirius and Snape burst in one after the other—or rather, they dragged each other in.

Both of them were injured.

Sirius Black had a black eye and a split at the corner of his mouth, but he was holding a strand of soft black hair in his hand with pride.

Snape's nose was bleeding, his right eye was swollen shut, and the sleeve of his black robe was torn open, revealing a rare beige shirt underneath.

"He started it!" the two said in unison.

Dumbledore picked up his teacup: "What for?"