As it turned out, Snape was the one Dumbledore trusted most these days. The moment he rushed into the headmaster's office and saw Lockhart animatedly waving his arms, talking a mile a minute, he visibly relaxed.
Funny thing—back in the day, Snape had also been Voldemort's most trusted follower.
Lockhart wasn't half bad at reading people, and he thought Snape was pretty reliable.
Snape, on the other hand, thought Lockhart was completely unreliable.
He hurried up the spiral staircase into the office, only to hear Lockhart loudly proclaiming, "Professor Trelawney predicted I'd die this year as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher!"
Lockhart was leaning over Dumbledore's desk, his tone dramatic. "Professor Dumbledore, tell me—if I haven't died, if I'm still standing here, what does that mean?" He paused, catching Snape's entrance out of the corner of his eye, then fixed his gaze back on Dumbledore. "Does it mean our savior, Mr. Potter, can really defeat You-Know-Who, like Trelawney's prophecy says?"
"!!!"
Snape froze, his head snapping up to stare at Dumbledore.
Dumbledore, too, seemed caught off guard, his eyes narrowing and brows furrowing.
"You can't just keep banking on the Chosen One to take him out. I know Harry too well—his skills aren't there yet. He couldn't even beat me, let alone You-Know-Who!" Lockhart shrugged. "What, are we supposed to rely on fate? A bunch of endless coincidences where Harry trips, accidentally jabs his wand into the Dark Lord's throat, and kills him?"
He chuckled lightly. "Dumbledore, do you believe in fate?"
Then he turned to Snape. "What about you, Severus? Do you believe in fate?"
Silence.
Lockhart had clearly asked the wrong people. Both men before him had been cruelly toyed with by fate, their eyes carrying unspoken pain.
"…"
Lockhart sighed, a bit exasperated.
He wasn't bringing this up with Dumbledore just to stir the pot. Ever since he realized his presence in this world—his desire to make his mark and influence events—had changed the "original story," it wasn't the same anymore.
So, could Harry really defeat Voldemort?
Lockhart wasn't betting on it. In the books, Harry didn't win through raw skill but through a pile of protagonist-level luck.
That wasn't exactly convincing.
And Lockhart was terrified of that sly old snake, Voldemort. He'd accidentally kicked the hornet's nest, drawing Voldemort's attention, and now he'd made a serious enemy.
At a time like this, he'd rather trust the wand in his hand than Trelawney's prophecies.
Of course, he was also counting on Dumbledore, who was arguably more powerful than Voldemort. Come on, old man, don't get all mopey and go chasing your sister in the afterlife for some grand adventure. You've got to step up!
You're only 111—practically a spring chicken by wizard standards. The rising sun! Full of vigor!
You should be like me—trust in your own abilities, not fate.
And if that's not enough, at least train Harry properly!
This hands-off approach, just fueling his hatred to set him against Voldemort, isn't cutting it.
You can't wait until he faces a Dementor to teach him the Patronus Charm, or only teach him Occlumency when you realize Voldemort's poking around in his head. This scattershot training isn't a system!
Dumbledore was quiet for a long time before finally saying, "Over the Christmas holidays, Harry will go on an adventure with you. He could use some real training."
Snape, standing nearby, clearly disagreed, his voice rising. "Dumbledore!"
The headmaster glanced at him and nodded. "If you're worried, Severus, you can go along too."
And that was that.
Dumbledore's decisions were final.
Snape, his expression conflicted, stepped forward to report on his patrol of the school. In short: nothing to report.
He did, however, mention Arthur Weasley's flying car.
Lockhart had already told Dumbledore about Lady Car during his detailed recounting of his encounter with Voldemort, and Dumbledore had a plan.
"I'll have Mr. Filch clear out the observation platform on the tower near the Quidditch pitch for Lady Car to use temporarily," Dumbledore said. He paused, then added to Lockhart, "I'll speak with Arthur about the car's ownership."
Lockhart's eyes lit up. He quickly promised he could compensate with some Galleons if needed—or even get Arthur a top-of-the-line Muggle sports car or a helicopter. Money wasn't an issue for him.
That was a minor matter, though.
Dumbledore steepled his fingers, sinking into thought. Clearly, Lockhart's earlier question—"If I can escape my prophesied death, can't Voldemort escape his?"—had struck a chord.
Lockhart exchanged a glance with Snape, and they left the office without disturbing the pondering headmaster.
Snape was visibly exasperated by Lockhart's knack for stirring things up. As they walked out, he looked at Lockhart, who was grinning ear to ear over the prospect of officially owning the flying car, carefree as ever. Snape sighed.
But he'd underestimated Lockhart.
Lockhart's ability to cause chaos went far beyond that.
Even Tom Riddle, Ginny's diary-bound bestie, was shocked.
"*What?!*"
Ginny had never seen such messy handwriting in the diary, as if Tom was utterly floored by the news she'd casually shared.
Startled by the wild, scrawled letters appearing on the page, she patted her chest and glanced around the dormitory to make sure no one was watching. Then she bent back over the diary and wrote:
—Yes, I don't think I misheard.
—Professor Lockhart is planning to open 'The Chamber of Hogwarts' for everyone to go on an adventure. They're letting people sign up now. You need to form your own adventure team, and it's open to all years, so anyone can join.
—Don't worry, though. Our Duelling Club will form our own team to take on the Chamber's monsters. I won't be separated from Harry…
I'm not worried!
No, scratch that—I don't care!
Tom Riddle, inside the diary, was dumbfounded.
He racked his brains but couldn't make sense of it.
Professor Lockhart, opening the Chamber?
Did he even know who the true Heir of Slytherin was?
I, Tom Riddle, descendant of the Gaunt family, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, am the direct heir of Salazar Slytherin!
How could Lockhart open the Chamber?
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