Lockhart followed Dumbledore to the Ministry of Magic for questioning.
Dumbledore remained silent the entire time, yet his presence alone exerted immense pressure on the Ministry officials.
Fudge kept glancing at Dumbledore, clearly wanting to ask whether the Dark Lord had truly returned, but he knew he'd get no answers from him. In the end, unable to speak up, Fudge left with a hint of resentment when Umbridge arrived.
In truth, their interests aligned on this matter.
Fudge desperately wanted to avoid the reality of Voldemort's return, as it would threaten his position as Minister for Magic. He had to publicly dismiss the idea of Voldemort's resurrection as nonsense, even if it meant clashing with Dumbledore.
Dumbledore, on the other hand, needed Fudge to maintain this stance. As long as Voldemort's return wasn't officially confirmed, the rumors would remain ambiguous. This prevented wavering pure-blood families from being forced to choose sides and kept Voldemort's "pure-blood supremacy" supporters from acting recklessly to prove their loyalty.
This bought Dumbledore precious time—even a year or two could make a difference.
However, Dumbledore couldn't publicly deny Voldemort's return either. Doing so would lull the resistance into complacency and make it harder to rally forces against Voldemort when he fully resurfaced.
Politics often required such gray areas.
This was Lockhart's first time stepping into the political heart of the Ministry of Magic. The original Lockhart had been savvy enough to cultivate social influence rather than political power, understanding the distinction.
Social influence was one thing, but in the face of political interests, it meant little. As a half-blood wizard from humble origins with no backing, diving blindly into politics would have left him vulnerable to being torn apart.
But he'd been wrong about that!
As they waited by the Ministry's elevators, a ding signaled the doors opening. Out stepped Ministry employees, looking polished but weary. Suddenly, a female employee let out a piercing squeal.
"Oh my gosh!"
"Gilderoy Lockhart!"
"Merlin's beard, it's Gilderoy Lockhart!"
She was ecstatic, rushing toward him. And she wasn't alone—others joined in, shouting and charging forward.
Even Scrimgeour, head of the Auror Office, and Corban Yaxley, both seasoned bureaucrats, were stunned. They'd never seen such a scene in the typically solemn Ministry.
Lockhart was equally shocked!
He'd never experienced anything like this. He hadn't delved deeply into the original Lockhart's memories—not only were some too personal or sensitive, but in the six months since he'd arrived in this world, he'd been too busy studying magical knowledge to focus on this kind of thing.
What now?
He panicked. Truly. The screams echoed through the Ministry, as if the entire building had been roused. Witches came running from every corner.
He was at a loss.
At Hogwarts, he'd faced similar enthusiasm, but he thought that was the extent of his popularity.
Clearly, he was wrong!
The school's young witches and wizards were restrained by their age and the presence of professors. But these Ministry employees? No such limits.
As the crowd grew, even the initially reserved witches were pushed forward. One, beaming with joy, was shoved into Lockhart's arms. She screamed excitedly, grabbed his robes, and stood on tiptoe to kiss him—or rather, she wasn't tall enough, so she ended up biting and nibbling at his neck.
What?!
Lockhart was floored. Are you mad? Why are you biting my neck? Am I the werewolf, or are you?
Wait—who's hand was that?
No, there was more than one!
Stop reaching!
Stop it!
Lockhart's eyes widened, his face flushed as he tried to break free, only to realize the crowd was growing larger.
He felt like he was trapped in a horde of zombies. Desperately, he reached toward the Aurors nearby, shouting, "Help me!"
Kingsley Shacklebolt stepped back with an odd expression, clearly avoiding getting dragged into this "zombie tide."
He'd worked at the Ministry for years, but he'd never imagined so many witches could be this crazed.
No wonder his mother had warned him to find a Muggle woman—witches, especially the pretty ones, were lunatics.
Now he saw it for himself.
He even spotted a familiar colleague, waving one of Lockhart's books high above the crowd.
"I have no doubt this heartthrob could easily win Minister for Magic," Yaxley said to Scrimgeour with a malicious smirk, knowing Scrimgeour coveted the position.
Scrimgeour snorted, unimpressed. An idol and a politician were two different beasts.
Lockhart as Minister for Magic?
It'd be a disaster.
Picture it: Lockhart on a podium, waving his hands, declaring, "No one knows magic better than me!"
And the crowd of fans and Ministry employees screaming and clapping wildly.
Merlin's beard, could anything be worse?
…
Influence was intangible but sometimes incredibly useful. At the very least, neither Scrimgeour nor Yaxley wanted to appear hostile toward Lockhart right now.
They'd be torn apart by his rabid Ministry fans!
So, Lockhart was handed off to Kingsley Shacklebolt.
Kingsley, a member of the sacred twenty-eight Shacklebolt family, an Order of the Phoenix member, and, in the original story, eventual Minister for Magic, was an exceptionally powerful Auror—on par with McGonagall or Snape.
He was reliable, trusted by Dumbledore, Fudge, Scrimgeour, and even the Muggle Prime Minister.
From another angle, someone so universally respected in politics wasn't the type to cling to rigid rules.
Lockhart's guess was spot-on. Kingsley invited him to his office for an African specialty drink and barely touched on the recent attack. Instead, he brought up something else.
"Dumbledore wants me to help you secure a position at the Ministry."
Kingsley sat upright on the sofa, his rough appearance somehow exuding a "corporate elite" vibe. "I thought I should ask your opinion."
Lockhart blinked, caught off guard. "Why didn't he tell me himself just now—"
Oh! He gasped. "Was that Dumbledore just a Confundus Charm?"
Kingsley didn't answer directly, only smiling. "He has things to do, you know."
Off to Gringotts to hunt for Voldemort's Horcrux cup, got it.
Lockhart nodded, still marveling. He'd genuinely thought Dumbledore was there. With Scrimgeour, Yaxley, Umbridge, and countless Auraws and Ministry employees around—none of whom noticed anything amiss—Dumbledore's skill was terrifying.
At Kingsley's gesture, Lockhart sipped the drink. His eyes lit up. "This is good."
It had a natural, fruity aroma, like ripe fruit in a refreshing juice.
"Why take a Ministry post?" Lockhart asked, puzzled by Dumbledore's plan.
"Your pets," Kingsley said with a shrug. "Strictly speaking, keeping them isn't entirely legal. To avoid anyone using that against you, it's best to have a proper cover."
"I'd suggest a title like Hogwarts gamekeeper. It'd give you more freedom. The only catch is that your magical creatures would technically belong to Hogwarts."
Hagrid's Acromantula, Aragog, was under a similar arrangement.
Kingsley explained the nuances carefully. "We all know Dumbledore wouldn't actually take your creatures."
Lockhart wasn't so sure. What if Hogwarts got a new headmaster? He didn't want to end up in a legal tangle with a school. "What's the Ministry option?"
"The Beast Consultation Office," Kingsley said, his expression turning odd. "It's an advisory department, essentially a cushy spot for scholars from ancient wizarding families. No director, no real work, just free time with a monthly salary and benefits."
That sounds amazing.
Lockhart blinked, quickly sifting through his memories of the office. His brow raised.
What a coincidence—Newt Scamander had worked there, back when he started writing Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. He'd been so bored that he began raising creatures and eventually quit.
Interestingly, someone Lockhart knew was there: Lyall Lupin, a dark magical creatures expert and Ministry consultant.
There were others worth meeting, too, like Cedric's father, Amos Diggory.
"You could see the department as the Ministry's compromise to appease old pure-blood families," Kingsley explained. "Those scholars are valuable to wizarding society."
"But the department also holds significant influence."
He outlined the Ministry's structure.
The Ministry had seven main departments, with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement being the most powerful, overseeing the Wizengamot and the Auror Office. The Department of Mysteries, tied to the former Wizards' Council (now the International Confederation of Wizards), was another key player.
The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures handled all creature-related matters, with three major consultation offices and various teams under it.
In other words, the Beast Consultation Office, while idle, technically had authority over the departments doing the real work.
Of course, whether anyone listened depended on one's family influence and personal clout.
"Sounds tempting," Lockhart said, intrigued.
"You sure?" Kingsley asked, sipping his tea with a smile. "I should warn you, if Dumbledore's pulling strings to get you a role, he'll expect you to step up eventually."
He paused, then added, "Especially with the Dark Lord's activities becoming more obvious. You'll likely face dangers like today's incident again." (Referring to the Crabbe family's Bowtruckle farm attack.)
"I'm sure," Lockhart said, grinning brightly. "I hear the call of adventure—full of mystery and wonder. I choose to face it bravely."
Kingsley blinked, suddenly finding this internationally famous author harder to read.