"Many young wizards just starting to learn magic discover a little trick: the louder you shout, the better the spell works," Lockhart said with a flourish, his eyes sweeping the room. He grinned as he noticed some of the more talented students in Charms nodding in agreement.
"Of course," he continued, "when you reach the higher years and gain more experience with spellcasting, you'll realize that the true essence of magic lies in a firm will."
A murmur rippled through the students. Some began whispering to their neighbors, sharing how they'd indeed shouted their spells with great results. Harry Potter, for instance, seemed to have a revelation. He turned to Ron, excitedly saying he'd been right to yell his spells after all.
Nearby, Draco Malfoy from Slytherin sneered in their direction, ready to mock Harry's reliance on shouting. But then he caught sight of Hermione Granger gazing adoringly at Professor Lockhart on the stage. Ugh.
Draco rolled his eyes. He'd noticed plenty of students fawning over Lockhart lately, and it made his stomach churn.
Thankfully, the chatter didn't last long. The prefects from each house quickly restored order, taking their duties for Professor Lockhart very seriously.
"I know…" Lockhart paced the stage, speaking confidently. "Some of you might disagree with this idea. You might think the true essence of magic isn't a strong will but a vivid imagination or the ability to visualize clearly in your mind."
He waved his wand—a glorified stick in his hands, really—in the precise, textbook-perfect motion of a basic Transfiguration spell. The dramatic gesture drew squeals from some of the younger students, and the prefects had to hush the crowd again.
Lockhart just chuckled, nodding approvingly at the prefects before continuing. "Many wizards find that when we have a clear expectation of a spell's outcome—ideally with a vivid mental image—the casting becomes almost effortless and, frankly, spectacular."
"Take the Reparo charm, for instance—Reparo," he said, mimicking the wand movement. "Or Transfiguration spells and their counter-spells."
He rattled off examples, each accompanied by a perfectly executed wand flourish that even Dumbledore or McGonagall couldn't fault. Lockhart listed seven distinct applications, each backed by detailed reasoning.
"A firm will, a vivid imagination, intense emotions…" He strode across the stage, his golden robes catching the light of the Great Hall, making him practically glow. "But even with all these secrets to casting magic, we find that no single one applies to every magical discipline. So, what is the true essence of magic?"
His piercing gaze swept over the students, even landing on the professors in the corner, who seemed to be pondering his words. He raised an eyebrow, intrigued by their thoughtfulness.
Then, ever the showman, Lockhart called on a few "outstanding" students to answer—carefully choosing those who were talented, eager to perform, and, naturally, his biggest fans. Their answers would reinforce the idea that Lockhart's admirers were the cream of the crop, subtly boosting his reputation.
He got plenty of responses, but a question like this? Even Hogwarts' top professors would struggle to give a definitive answer. There wasn't one, really. And Lockhart knew it. If his answer was going to be questioned, it had to be substantial enough to spark discussion, not dismissal. That's how you build credibility that resonates.
Smiling broadly, Lockhart looked out at the crowd. "My answer? Romance."
"Yes, romance—the true essence of magic." His eyes gleamed with wisdom as he spoke slowly, deliberately. "If I had to qualify it, I'd say it's a fairytale kind of romance."
He gazed earnestly at the young witches and wizards. "Many of you might think life is long, that childhood can be frittered away, so you don't focus on your studies. But when you leave Hogwarts, you'll realize your greatest achievements might just come from these years here."
"If you, like me, set off on a grand world tour at 17 or 18, meeting all sorts of people and seeing incredible things, you'll notice something: many wizards' most creative magical moments happen in childhood."
He gestured broadly. "The spells you learn, the magic you encounter—if you dig into their origins, you'll find most were invented by witches and wizards during their childhoods."
Examples were everywhere. Take Professor Snape, sitting right there. He'd created countless spells as a kid—how many had he invented since graduating?
"Why is that?" Lockhart asked, looking at the suddenly quiet students. "I believe it's because, as adults, they start facing the harsh realities of life. They lose that sense of romance."
"And not just any romance—a fairytale romance."
"Our romantic fantasies about what a spell can do, our unwavering belief in its outcome, the way we pour our emotions so freely into our magic… that's what fades."
"Adult wizards struggle to live in that fairytale-like wonder," he said softly. "But for you, young witches and wizards, that natural childhood romance is the perfect soil for magic. Treasure these seven years at Hogwarts—they hold endless possibilities."
Lockhart's knowing smile swept the room, lingering on Snape, who looked particularly grim, clearly affected by the words.
"Now, more specifically?" Lockhart continued. "Perhaps the Sorting Hat already pointed you toward your path."
"Gryffindor—maybe it's adventure? Defeating a dark lord?"
"Slytherin—perhaps plotting a world-changing scheme?"
"Ravenclaw—maybe achieving greatness in your field? Earning renown?"
He shook his head with a smile. "No, it can't be defined. Each of you must find your own fairytale, your own magical life."
"Now, let's move to a practical demonstration to show you how this fairytale romance can transform your spellcasting."
"I'll need two volunteers to join me on stage…" He grinned. "For a fairytale performance."
Muttering to himself, he scanned the crowd. "I need a brave hero who wants to defeat a dark lord… and a wise soul who firmly believes they're in the right."
His eyes quickly locked onto his targets. Despite plenty of eager hands in the air, he zeroed in on two students trying to shrink behind their classmates.
"Harry Potter…"
"Draco Malfoy…"
"Would you both come up here, please?"