Once things were settled, Professor McGonagall had something to say.
After everyone had left the hospital wing, she called Lockhart aside and led him to her office.
"Professor Kettleburn has been looking for Dumbledore and me, hoping to resign from his position teaching Care of Magical Creatures. He always brings up his multitude of injuries."
Yes, that's right.
The old professor was down to one and a half limbs, which was certainly a good enough reason to want to retire.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry couldn't possibly force someone unwilling to be a professor, could it? That would clearly be improper.
As the Deputy Headmistress, responsible for most of the school's affairs, Professor McGonagall was naturally quite vexed by this issue. "He recently approached me, hoping to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts next year, but we all know that particular professorship always seems to have a few 'incidents.' His body probably couldn't handle such torment."
Lockhart remembered the interesting old fellow and chuckled. "He isn't trying to leave because he's too old or tired; he's trying to leave because he's too passionate! You could put him in charge of the adventure grounds, and I daresay he'd never talk about leaving Hogwarts again."
Why would venturing into a dragon reserve be as interesting as the Hogwarts adventure grounds?
With the support of various subject professors, Hogwarts' adventures were definitely richer and more wondrous than any dragon reserve could offer.
Not to mention, there were plenty of students happy to play these adventure games with him; he'd be happier than a house-elf with a hundred socks!
Professor McGonagall paused, then smiled. "Yes, there, he's as lively as a House-Elf."
But regardless of whether Professor Kettleburn was keen on adventure, it seemed he truly didn't want to teach Care of Magical Creatures anymore.
"I wonder if you'd be interested in taking on that class?"
McGonagall looked at Lockhart with a hint of expectation.
"Me?" Lockhart pointed at himself in disbelief. "Care of Magical Creatures? Do you think that's suitable? I'm not good at it at all!"
That was the truth. Just look at the Snidget he kept; he only managed to keep it alive by occasionally tossing it unwanted memories. He certainly couldn't claim to be good at caring for it.
He genuinely didn't understand the habits of magical creatures all that well.
"You've substituted for Professor Kettleburn a few times before, and I found your teaching quite good," Professor McGonagall said, having observed him previously.
"That was just teaching from the textbook, which seemed sufficient. But Professor McGonagall, you can't expect to cultivate an excellent magizoologist with that kind of teaching method; it's far from enough," Lockhart countered.
He gestured towards the Forbidden Forest outside the window. "Compared to someone like me, you'd be better off finding Hagrid. He's incredibly good with magical creatures."
Care of Magical Creatures actually had many sub-disciplines. There were academic giants like Professor Kettleburn, who were like living encyclopedias and often invited by large dragon reserves or magical creature breeding grounds for guidance, for a hefty fee.
Then there were those like Newt Scamander, who focused on magical creature conservation. No one understood better how to properly care for endangered magical creatures to ensure their survival.
Finally, there was Hagrid's type: magical creature breeding. This was truly the most astonishing category; wizards like him would vastly expand the depth and breadth of Care of Magical Creatures.
Academics, conservation, breeding—Lockhart didn't fit into any of those categories.
"Rubeus Hagrid..." Professor McGonagall's brow furrowed slightly. "He might not be entirely suitable for teaching younger witches and wizards."
"He's the one who can cultivate magizoologists!" Lockhart argued. "Of course, I know that less talented young witches and wizards might fare poorly under him, but those with talent would swiftly be drawn into the marvelous magical field of Care of Magical Creatures."
"I understand your point, but I must be responsible for all young witches and wizards," Professor McGonagall looked at Lockhart seriously. "I don't agree with the idea of 'talent.' Every young witch and wizard should have ample opportunity to grow; they should all have futures full of infinite possibilities."
She knew Professor Lockhart well. While this young professor acknowledged the idea of talent, he didn't dwell on it. Instead, he emphasized the role of the mind in magic, believing that everyone's mind was extraordinary and that everyone's magical path was full of possibilities.
She knew Lockhart would agree with her.
"Why me?" Lockhart still didn't understand; he truly wasn't good at Care of Magical Creatures.
"Professor Kettleburn recommended you to me," Professor McGonagall said with a smile. "He said that a Dragon窟 rabbit approved of you, and that you possess a talent in this area that you aren't even aware of."
Lockhart almost lost his composure.
A Dragon窟 rabbit?
Let a rabbit decide who should be a professor?
Lockhart suddenly realized that the Forest Witch's magical talent was essentially better suited for this magical path.
In that case...
Maybe he really could try it?
Lockhart wasn't set on dedicating himself solely to the path of breeding dark magical creatures. In fact, he believed he ought to live for several centuries in this magical world and should try every field.
There were many commonalities between Care of Magical Creatures and dark magical creatures.
"I can't give you a definite answer right now," Lockhart decided. There was still a month of summer vacation left; perhaps he could try getting in touch with them. If it truly proved interesting, he wouldn't mind finding some dark wizards to "learn a few tricks" of the trade. "At the very least, I won't know if I can teach it until after school starts."
Professor McGonagall nodded. "That's acceptable."
She could surely convince that old fellow, Professor Kettleburn, to teach for another year or half-year, especially for the sake of the adventure grounds. There was no desperate rush to replace him next semester.
---
After their discussion, Lockhart didn't rush to leave the school.
He first went to find Snape, but his friend wasn't staying at school for the holidays, likely having gone back to Spinner's End.
So, he simply returned to Hogsmeade Village, found Aberforth Dumbledore, the owner of the Hog's Head Inn, and ordered some drinks and roast lamb. He then enjoyed a delicious dinner with his friends.
With the Red Cloak, that 'bag-of-a-dark-creature,' around, he wasn't too worried about Voldemort showing up again. He enjoyed a blissful night's sleep before returning to school to pick up his apprentice, Crabbe, who had finally recovered.
"Professor, was my performance truly dreadful?" Crabbe felt very ashamed that he hadn't been able to help his professor.
"That was Grindelwald, my boy, don't dwell on it," Lockhart comforted him.
Besides, what could Crabbe possibly understand? Currently, he was only proficient in three spells: Apparition, Soul Bonfire, and Warming Charms.
"Come on, let's continue our summer travels," Lockhart called out to Crabbe as they headed towards the viaduct at Hogwarts, where Apparition was permitted.
"Professor, where are we going next?" Crabbe asked with a hint of curiosity.
"St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries!" Lockhart thought for a moment before giving his answer. A member of his Magnolia Ravenclaw club was at that hospital. "We're going to find Healer Naomi. She might have some patients with soul injuries, and if there are any with Cruciatus Curse damage, all the better. We can see if your Soul Bonfire charm can help them."
Crabbe looked very touched. His professor was going to such lengths for his future, trying everything to guide him along his magical path. He was terrible with words and didn't know how to express his gratitude.
However, the professor merely smiled gently at him and patted his shoulder. "Just grow strong as quickly as you can, and you'll naturally be able to help me."
St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries is located in London, England, but its influence extends beyond the British wizarding world.
It was established in the late sixteenth century during the Ministry of Magic's early days and the transfer of power from the Wizengamot. The Order of Merlin's faith wavered at that time, and many wizarding knights who disliked politics found refuge in this hospital. This background contributed to the hospital's somewhat international nature.
Various magical disciplines from around the globe could be found there; people could even find Vodou practitioners using unique rituals as healing methods.
Of course, this hospital wouldn't be Crabbe's future destination.
Its requirements for recruiting healers were extremely strict and rigid. To recruit fresh graduates from magical schools, they required at least five "Outstanding" or "Exceeds Expectations" grades in their N.E.W.T. exams.
Crabbe would likely need tutoring for his Ordinary Wizarding Level exams, let alone meet that threshold.
However, sometimes that didn't mean much.
Lockhart saw Crabbe's talent for healing. The 'Soul Bonfire' spell in Crabbe's hands had already begun to show many fascinating changes, changes that would make even the Forest Witch exclaim. This was precisely the embodiment of mind and magic aligning and choosing each other.
This path was indeed the right one.
They soon arrived at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Healer Naomi was a Healer responsible for treating Muggles injured by wizarding magic, and her office was on the fifth floor.
"The Cruciatus Curse..." Healer Naomi's expression became a bit odd. "You've come at just the right time. There's a very famous Potions Master who happens to be seeking treatment for that very magical injury."
"A very famous Potions Master?" Lockhart wasn't sure why her tone had changed so oddly.
The two were led by Healer Naomi down a long hospital corridor and soon arrived at a ward door. Two family members outside seemed to be having a heated discussion.
"Who knows if he was one of the perpetrators who harmed my brother and sister-in-law back then? Why would you let him help with the treatment? I won't allow it!" The speaker was a tall, stout, middle-aged man with a full beard, his expression particularly furious, even somewhat venomous.
Lockhart had seen this person before, when he was obtaining recognition as an 'Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries' for the British Wizarding Alliance Council.
His expression immediately became peculiar.
"Algie!" Beside the middle-aged man was an old witch wearing a vulture-feathered hat and an antique emerald green dress, her face filled with sorrow. "Even if there's just a sliver of a chance, I can't miss it!"
The middle-aged man pursed his lips and fell silent, clenching his fists tightly.
Just then, he seemed to notice someone approaching, turned his head, and froze. "Professor Lockhart?"
Lockhart smiled slightly. "Hello, Mr. Longbottom."
This was Neville's uncle, and the woman beside him was Neville's grandmother. After they exchanged greetings, Mr. Longbottom voluntarily brought up what was happening in the ward.
"Professor Lockhart, it's good you're here. You've worked with Snape at Hogwarts before, haven't you? Do you think a man like him would be so kind as to voluntarily come forward and offer to treat my brother? A man like him, does he truly have no other ulterior motives?"
Lockhart raised an eyebrow, his gaze sweeping past Mr. Longbottom and into the ward, where he distinctly saw Snape looking down at a patient in the bed with a sorrowful expression.
Well, well!
What a coincidence!
"Yes, a man like him..." Lockhart smiled faintly. "He is trying to bear the burden of his own guilt and destiny."
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