After the Hogwarts end-of-year feast, several upper-year students gathered around Professor Morrissey, chatting excitedly and asking about his life in America.
"Professor, will you still be teaching us next year?" one student asked.
"I'm afraid not," Morrissey replied with a smile. "I've truly enjoyed my time at Hogwarts with all of you, but I have to return to America."
Sean felt a bit of regret for the students. Morrissey was a genuinely good professor—his teaching ability was excellent, and his character was solid. If he had stayed a few more years, Dumbledore might even have invited him to join the Order of the Phoenix.
Compared to him, the man coming next year—Gilderoy Lockhart—was a complete joke.
These past few days, Dumbledore had been troubled over the vacant Defense Against the Dark Arts position. Although Snape had volunteered himself, Dumbledore had firmly refused.
Ever since 1954, when Dumbledore rejected a young Voldemort's application, the position seemed cursed. No one had ever lasted more than a year.
Professors left for all kinds of reasons. Not all of them died—but anyone paying even a little attention could tell that the job was far from safe.
Dumbledore had already placed a recruitment notice in the Daily Prophet a few days ago.
Three days passed.
He received exactly one application.
Lockhart.
Dumbledore sighed.
He didn't reply immediately. He wanted to wait a little longer, even though he knew no one else would apply. Still, he held onto a faint hope.
While the local Dark Lord Voldemort was scheming again, the ancient dark wizard Haierbo was also making moves.
From the very beginning, Haierbo had looked down on Voldemort, calling him a "petty imitator."
After Voldemort fled, Haierbo began planning to infiltrate Hogwarts next term and retrieve the Golden Scepter.
Before this school year had started, Haierbo had met Voldemort at the Leaky Cauldron. Seeing that Voldemort was local—and clearly wicked—he decided to use him to retrieve the scepter.
He had even provided Voldemort with a rare artifact—a Pain Mask.
Unfortunately, Quirrell hadn't accomplished much before being crippled by Snape.
Voldemort lost his host body and ended up possessing a sewer rat, returning to Knockturn Alley in disgrace.
Haierbo didn't say much. He simply sneered inwardly, mocking Voldemort's pitiful state.
"So the trash ran away. I'm starting to doubt the level of British wizards," Haierbo said to a bald, dark-skinned subordinate. "They were afraid of someone like Voldemort?"
"Yes, Master," the man replied. "Over a decade ago, Voldemort was indeed feared across Britain. No one expected him to fall this far."
"What about the person I told you to find?"
"We've located him. His movements are clear. We can bring him to you tomorrow night."
Meanwhile, Hogwarts had officially gone on summer break.
Students said their goodbyes in a cheerful atmosphere, promising to meet again in two months.
Sean carried his suitcase in one hand and Jerry in the other as he boarded the Hogwarts Express.
On the train, he ran into Draco.
The boy didn't even greet him—he pretended not to see Sean and quickly slipped past.
"Am I really that scary?" Sean wondered.
Chris sat quietly in her seat, looking downcast.
Sean gently patted Jerry and gave him a look.
Jerry understood.
After all, Chris often fed him treats at school.
With graceful steps, Jerry walked over, then lightly jumped onto her lap.
"Jerry…" Chris murmured softly.
"If you miss him, you can always come to the Leaky Cauldron," Sean said.
Chris looked up at him helplessly. "I'm afraid I won't be able to go anywhere this summer… maybe not even after that."
Sean didn't know what to say.
This was likely Barty Crouch Sr.'s order. Until Barty Jr. was found, he wouldn't risk any more trouble for the family.
Speaking of not being allowed to go anywhere…
In the original timeline, the Malfoys' house-elf Dobby had tried everything to stop Harry from returning to Hogwarts after overhearing Lucius's plan—even sealing Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.
"But I already hid the diary… Dobby shouldn't go after Harry this time," Sean thought.
The train departed at 9 a.m. and arrived at King's Cross Station at 3 p.m.
After saying goodbye to Cassius and Chris, Sean took a bus back to the Leaky Cauldron.
Summer business there was as booming as ever.
Some people said that if the Leaky Cauldron ever became empty, it would mean the British wizarding world itself had declined.
"Well, look who's back!" regulars called out warmly.
"Drop your luggage upstairs and get down here to help!" Old Tom said without any ceremony.
"I knew it," Sean muttered, shaking his head as he carried his suitcase upstairs.
It was the same cramped, shabby storage room.
He pushed the door open—an unpleasant smell hit him immediately. It hadn't been cleaned all year.
With a flick of his wand, he cast a cleaning spell.
Meanwhile, back at Malfoy Manor, Draco lounged lazily on a soft couch, casually eating an apple.
"Dobby," Draco called.
Normally, the house-elf would appear instantly.
But this time—nothing.
Annoyed, Draco called again.
Still nothing.
Instead, Lucius appeared.
"Stop shouting. I've sent Dobby out on an errand," Lucius said.
Draco immediately sat up straight. "What kind of errand?"
"That's none of your concern."
Five days into the holiday, Dumbledore still hadn't received any new applications.
He had no choice.
Lockhart would have to take the position.
But there was another reason.
In Dumbledore's eyes, Lockhart was a famous bestselling author—but he suspected that reputation was stolen.
Dumbledore happened to know two wizards who had once adventured with Lockhart, only to return with their memories wiped.
Their achievements had all been claimed by Lockhart.
Dumbledore was certain that he might be the only person who knew the truth.
He believed that once Lockhart was placed in an ordinary teaching position, his façade would collapse.
Professor McGonagall, who had never liked Lockhart, once asked, "What could students possibly learn from a vain man obsessed with fame?"
Dumbledore replied calmly, "Even from a bad teacher, one can learn many things—what not to do, and what not to become."
The other professors were equally confused by his decision.
Even if no one else was willing to take the job—
Most of them still found Lockhart deeply unpleasant, regardless of his so-called achievements.
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