After sending off the team escorting Lockhart, the little Wizard from Armenia also left Hogwarts, and William returned to the Headmaster's Office to once again sit opposite Dumbledore.
"Old man, how long do you think he'll be sentenced for?"
William looked at the empty teacup in his hand, snapped his fingers, and a pair of Elves appeared beside him with a pot of green tea.
"For just ordinary memory theft, the sentence should be around three months. With Lockhart's wealth, he might get out quickly..."
Dumbledore shook his head; the situation didn't seem optimistic.
But—
"But..."
Good, William nodded. He guessed Dumbledore would definitely add a "but" later.
"But Lockhart's actions are vile, compounded by severe deceit, and he even used fabricated and stolen experiences to earn himself a Merlin Knight Order Medal—" Dumbledore accepted the green tea William offered, gently blew on it, "The Wizengamot won't let him off easily. He's likely to spend several years in the deepest parts of Azkaban."
"Oh, if this matter doesn't die down, then it looks like Andre Senior is going to get scolded pretty bad—"
William whistled, as if reminding Dumbledore.
"?"
"Looks like you still don't understand the fan community, Old Dumbledore." William waved two fingers, "Do you know how exaggerated Lockhart's fan base is?"
"...I think I get it now."
Dumbledore furrowed his brows, seemingly having never considered this aspect, but after all, he wasn't an all-knowing saint—otherwise, a Top-Level Wizard, Advanced Alchemist, Master of Transformation, Duel Master, Dark Lord's Ender, Top Strategist...
How would anyone else survive?
"So, I thought the Wizengamot might suppress this matter, given the reputation and societal issues—"
William furrowed his brows. He was considering just taking Lockhart out himself, as this kind of trouble only wastes air, but since he didn't want to kill anyone in the castle, he abstained. However, if things developed as Dumbledore said, perhaps he wouldn't need to sneak out at night to "raid the execution ground"?
"If I weren't here, they might have." Dumbledore's words trailed off, but they seemed complete.
"Tsk, really putting on airs." William pouted, "But still, this trouble was your recruitment."
"Actually, I saw his issues long ago, just needed to correct him through life experiences..." Dumbledore tried to argue.
"But you wasted the most important year for the fifth and seventh years—what if, without the Duel Club, this year's O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. exams flunk many in Defense Against the Dark Arts? You are the Headmaster—"
William thumped the table indignantly—then he suddenly shifted his tone, his voice calming down, "Actually, I can graduate this year, just let me take the Defense Against the Dark Arts Class next term—you've seen my experience, the Duel Club under my care has gotten almost too popular..."
"No, I already have someone in mind for this year."
Dumbledore shook his head, showing a hint of difficulty on his face, yet still filled with certainty—he seemed dead set against letting William take the position.
"Fine, tell me the name, and I'll find someone to assassinate... no, I mean, I'll help you vet them."
William nodded, looking utterly serious.
"Actually, this year's candidate might need your help. His case is somewhat special—"
"Lockhart number two?"
"No, he's a former student of mine, excellent in every aspect—"
Dumbledore's voice was full of confidence, as if ensuring there would be no mistakes this time.
"Who? What's the issue?"
William put his feet on the table, bringing the teacup to his mouth.
"Remus Lupin, he's a Werewolf—"
"Pfft—"
The tea vanished mid-air, William wiped his mouth, his eyes filled with shock, "You're planning to hire a Werewolf as a Professor... oh, actually there's also a Giant, a Cat Lady, a Goblin, a Bat Spirit, a Ghost, a diligent farming woman... I didn't expect it—Old Dumbledore, are you a hidden supporter of LGBT?"
"?"
Ignoring the madness spilling from William's mouth, Dumbledore continued, "But he's always been a good kid, it's just the widespread discrimination against Werewolves has made things tough for him. Perhaps this could help him—like your Homorphus Charm."
"That's ultimately just an emergency spell... Besides, why does this name sound so familiar?"
William stroked his chin, but the dusty memories seemed too distant, making him momentarily forget where he'd heard the name before.
After thinking for a while and getting nowhere, William impatiently scratched his ear, "Alright, I'll help you when the time comes—but if not this spell, what's your plan... the Wolf Poison Potion?"
William didn't ponder too long, as there aren't too many potions or items specifically for Werewolves.
The topic concluded, William drank the remaining green tea in the pot, turned to say goodbye, then used the Headmaster's Office's fireplace to return to the Room of Requirement—there were still three or four days until vacation, and he needed to pack. He had a boat ticket for the summer, so he didn't plan to secretly stay at school, plus the Room of Requirement's operations needed to be explained to Dobby.
Feeding the Acromantula colony and the wolf cubs brought in from the Forbidden Forest were taken care of, as for taking the Fire Dragon, Thunderbird, and Basilisk along for a little adventure—William bypassed the bookcase of summer reading, opened the door before him, and gleefully observed the two birds, one yellow, and one red, snuggled together on the perch.
If the Phoenix and Thunderbird actually laid an egg, and as long as it didn't self-destruct, imagine how exceptional the chick would be!
William moved the Niffler aside, waiting for the Thunderbird's (Pokemon's) romantic advances to end, then letting the Niffler approach with persuasion tactics, attack when they retreat, strike when they're tired, just stick to the strategy, and sooner or later, they'd steal Fawkes away from Dumbledore—
Time flew by, and the end-of-year exams for other grades passed quickly. William sat at the Hufflepuff Long Table with his suitcase.
"Hey, hey, hey, did you hear the news?"
The speaker was Ernie Macmillan, sitting across from William, holding a copy of Prophet Daily, and he leaned in mysteriously towards William.
"...Lockhart was caught?" William placed the suitcase beside his feet.
"Oh, you heard about it too!"
The boy was excited, sneaking a glance at Lockhart's empty seat, "I never thought he was that kind of person—"
"Professor Lockhart is that kind of person?"
A sharp voice sounded from behind the boy, and William looked up to see an unfamiliar Ravenclaw girl, "Professor Lockhart just made a mistake that everyone makes; he'll be out of Azkaban soon enough—"
Oh, a look of understanding appeared on the surrounding people's faces.
"Everyone makes mistakes?"
Cedric, having just sat down, quickly grasped the situation and speaking coyly, "You mean like being so scared by a Banshee that he claimed other people's achievements as his own? Then sorry, maybe I'm not 'everyone'?"
"You..."
It was Cedric speaking, and his handsome face left the Ravenclaw girl momentarily speechless.
"Me neither—"
Macmillan quickly raised his arm, and simultaneously, several Hufflepuff students beside him also raised their hands in support.
"You all..."
The girl was furious, nearly fainting from anger.
"Lastly, according to our opponent's main argument—" William opened the Prophet Daily he received from Macmillan, his tone calm, "The news clearly states Lockhart needs to be locked up for a full two and a half years—"
"...and before then, we'll rescue Gilderoy!" The girl immediately seemed to gain confidence, even puffing her modest chest.
"?"
"We are already preparing to collectively write to the Ministry of Magic, as long as our Smile Support Group is united—" The girl boasted with pride.
"No worries, by then your dear Gilderoy would likely have been kissed to death by Dementors." William continued without emotion, "Maybe you could work hard to arrange a French wet kiss for him with the Dementors? At least it would be a romantic way to go."