9 A Rut in Shamelessness

I awake feeling thoroughly hung-over. A pitcher of water is waiting for me by the infirmary bed. I pour myself a glass to ease my pain. I see it is well into the evening I suspect I've missed dinner.

Madam Pomfrey appears before I finish the glass. The woman must use some kind of alarm spells since she always appears as soon as her patients awaken.

"Professor Lockhart, do you have any idea how close you came to dying," she says.

I shrug. "Thankfully not close enough," I say. I am not sure how I ended up in this body, but knowing there are other worlds and transmigration, somehow death isn't as scary anymore. It's just the next great adventure after all.

"Other than the grievous wounds on your arms, you inhaled the powdered form of Mordred's blood," she says. At my blank look, she continues, "One of the most deadly forms of poisons to wizards. It feeds off your magic itself to attack you. For powerful wizards like you, it is quite deadly if not treated immediately. Your just lucky your so...fit," she finishes.

Jokes on you guys. I'm not powerful magically at all. One might think she would know that, but magical power was always a hazy kind of thing in HP. It's not as if they have magical power measuring devices. She probably just assumes I'm powerful from Lockhart's reputation.

I guess it's lucky I haven't found any good magical power-ups and my physique is as high as it is. She gives me a set of potions which I take dutifully.

"No that I don't enjoy your company, professor, I would appreciate it if you could visit under better circumstances. Now, if you'll excuse me, the headmaster asked me to inform him when you awaken"

Madam Pomfrey leaves only for Dumbledore return wearing a purple robe with a pattern of lime green stars and prancing unicorns. "Glad to see you're still with us professor," Dumbledore says sitting down.

"Yes, it would be hard to find a new defense teacher so last minute."

Dumbledore's eyes do the twinkle thing. "Yes, indeed. It seems we find ourselves in an alarmingly similar situation as yesterday. I can say with surety that this has never happened in the history of Hogwarts."

"Yes, I do seem to have a special brand of luck," I say. "Any idea who the man who attacked me was?"

"The auror's got a sample of the man's blood from your fist. It matched the ministry blood registry for the wanted criminal who goes by the aliasTroubador."

"Troubador?" I ask.

"A notorious assassin with a penchant for theatrics. Those who hire him tend to want to deliver a certain message."

I think the thespian might be a more fitting name. My mind races. A hired killer wouldn't be out of Malfoy's price range, but the note doesn't match. It was almost as if it came from...

But that shouldn't be possible. I shake my head.

"He took the place of the auror. For polyjuice to work, the victim needs to be alive. I understand that he took the auror's place, and must have stashed the body which the other aurors discovered, but what I don't get is how he escaped," I say.

Given the man's reputation, it sounds as if he staged the attack to be dramatic deliberately. I can guess that they expected to take me out with Greyback, and for whatever reason immediately hired this guy when he failed. Given the short time frame, I can assume he didn't have a lot of time to prepare. He seemed to take special interest in me, as well, which could mean any manner of things.

With that, Dumbledore looks somewhat apologetic. "That would have been the auror's own portkey. The aurors requested for me to key in portkeys to the wards. Normally, I would only allow it under extreme circumstances since they could floo in. However..."

"However?" I ask.

"I thought it wouldn't hurt to ease the nerves of the ministry. I am not sure if you follow politics, professor, but a friend of mine Arthur Weasley has been pushing a Muggle Protection Act."

"Ah, yes, I'm familiar with it." I remember in the books, Ron and Harry crashed the car into the Whomping Willow, jeopardizing Arthur's job. Funny, I hadn't heard anything about it. It would be awkward to bring it up now.

"Yes, well, due to the attack just yesterday by the alleged werewolf terrorist group, our opponents in the Wizengamot have gained leverage."

"They want to push their own Magical Creature Control Act," I say venturing a guess. The pure blood agendas were spelled out clearly in the books.

It was always odd to me that magical creatures followed Voldemort given that pure bloods loathed them. I guess when people, magical creature or not, are willing to believe anything for a little hope. I'm sure Voldemort promised them all would change under his rule. Or maybe there are just bad apples in every group, and he capitalized on that.

Dumbledore seems pleased by my deduction if the eye twinkling is anything to judge by. "Now with today's affair I'm not sure if this will gain me some favor or disfavor."

"On the one hand the ministry messed up, but on the other there was another attack associated with the school," I say. It wasn't a coincidence they asked for portkeys. It must have been part of Troubadour's plan all along. The fact that Dumbledore gave in must mean that is position politically is more tenuous than he lets on.

"Are you aware of any enemies or those who hold grudges against you Professor?"

There's at least one I know about, and probably a mokeskin pouch full of those I don't. "In my pursuit of justice and battle against darkness, I have gained many enemies headmaster. Too many to count, really."

Dumbledore looks contemplative, his eyes gazing into the distance. "Yes, indeed, since your encounter on the train, I took it upon myself to research your books. You make many a great claim. If I may be so bold, I wonder if there were perhaps some editorial errors."

I try not to shift. Crap, for a moment there I bought into the old man act and forgot Dumbles can read minds. I try to look at his eyes without actually looking him in the eyes. I end up aiming for the bushy brows. "Oh? Do tell. If you compile a list, I will be sure to send a copy to my editor. I take the veracity of my work very seriously."

"Well, I couldn't help but notice that some dates of events in the book overlap. You misremembered perhaps?"

Misremembered? Is that a hint to stealing memories? I can never tell how much he really knows. He gives this whole aura of I know everything even though I don't show it; you're really just playing into my hands.

"Ah, yes," I say looking away. "Let's just say hypothetically with enough portkeys, and uh, enough time," I say emphasizing the word, "One can accomplish quite a bit. Perhaps even being in two different places at once. As long as they don't overlap of course."

The twinkle in his eyes goes full on sparkler. I'm sure he took the hint and will run with it. Time-turners are heavily regulated by international governments. My evasiveness will then appear to be my reluctance to reveal my illegal use of a ministry controlled item, rather than what it really is. Me lying my bum off.

Oh, Lockhart. You were shameless, but if you were a real Potter-head you would have come up with this excuse long ago.

"I see. Fascinating. But it is truly unfortunate to have two attacks in a row. I fear what manner of semester this will shape up to be."

I nod seemingly serious. If the basilisk appeared, you don't even know the half of it Dumbles. "Well, the position was rumored to be jinxed, if I'm not mistaken," I say as an excuse. For all I know, it's true.

Dumbledore strokes his beard thoughtfully. "Well, in light of recent events, I will be strengthening all the wards. I think it is time I let you get your rest. Poppy tells me you will be good to go early in the morning."

I smile eagerly. "Just in time for me to finish my speech."

"Ah, yes, quite the rousing display of elocution. Oh, before I forget," Dumbledore says with a wave of his wand, two large sacks appear.

"What's this?" I say with my eyes brows raised.

"After our last conversation on your very special Valentine's Day, I took the liberty of redirecting your owl mail to the these enchanted receptacles. I would rather spare the students the experience of toast and owl droppings. Goodnight, Professor."

"Thanks Dumbles," I murmur as the man leaves.

I lay back in my bed to stare at the infirmary ceiling.

You thought to defy me? Who has - what was it?

Conquered death? Something like that.

I only know one melodramatic wizard with an obsession with not dying in the HP world. What I don't get is how I could fall under his radar. I mean, where was he even at after leaving what's-his-face's head?

I would simply have to get stronger.

"Tomorrow, I have to be even more shameless", I vow.

-----------------------------------

"Still, the sun rose on the walls of this fair castle, a fortress of mourners. No shouts of success, nor songs of victory therein, nor rejoicing the triumph of the day. As the last stragglers returned from their fell employment, no sound louder than a stifled sob was heard, nor did a limb move, nor leg tremble, nor bosom shake except in lamentation and in commemoration of that immortal moment," I wipe away a tear and bite back a sob.

"The day, Gilderoy Lockhart graduated Hogwarts."

There are applause from below. I look to see Neville clapping enthusiastically. The rest of the dining hall is mostly deserted except for a few students eating as quickly as possible. At first, they tried to take the plates of food away, but McGonagall put a stop to it. Most students simply ate at a record pace. I swear, Ron Weasley filled his pockets full and flee within the first few minutes.

I go below to where Neville is waiting for me. His eyes are a little poofy with dark circles. "Say there Nev, you're looking a little peaky. Worried for your old professor? It will take more than an assassin to end Gilderoy Lockhart."

Neville nods his head. "That's right prof - er, sensei. Today is your first class with the Gryffindors. We can go together."

"Ah, why thank you, Neville. It's right for an apprentice to take care of his master. Come along then, lead the way."

On my third day at Hogwarts, I manage to actually find my classroom. I'm in a room full of impressionable young Gryffindors. I see Hermione who blushes but waves.

This body is actually only in my late twenties. Lockhart in the books wasn't like the man portrayed in the movie. His body and looks are still in their prime. Lockhart really is a good looking bastard on the level of actors and models, to the point that even the girls in the class won't think eww, old man, but oh, a hunky guy.

That should make my job as a teacher easier. After all, half the battle is actually getting people to pay attention to me. The girls stare and the guys glare. I think this could work.

There is the slight problem of not knowing how to teach. That should be easy enough if I'm willing to sacrifice a few SBPs but for now…

I don't plan on actually teaching. Rather, I plan to pursue the path of every teacher I've ever had. A little something called paying it forward.

I write my name on the board because why not. "My name is Gilderoy Lockhart. Alright then. Let's begin class. Open up Voyages with Vampires. The Voyage Begins. Chapter one. Page one. Paragraph one. The Pacific glowed blood-red in the sunset of…"

What proceeds for the next hour of class is me reading the book word for word in a voice the likes of which can't be heard outside the listening portions of ESL tests. If you're not sure what that means, you're better off not knowing.

Teaching isn't hard. Being a terrible teacher isn't even really hard. Being a shameless teacher...is a little hard - on the conscience, that is.

The feeble dinging of points is a salve to my wounded soul.

It's a little awkward seeing the disappointed faces of the students leaving the class. You thought you could do magic in this class. You thought you were going to learn something cool. That I would be cool...ow, it hurts.

I swear to make it up to them eventually.

Neville runs up to me like an excited puppy. "You remember Hermione. I'd like you to meet my two friends Ron and Harry. You missed them on the train," he says.

Ron looks like he would like to be anywhere but near me. Harry reluctantly comes to say hello. As I shake his hand a pop up appears before my face.

Special Story Mission: Ensure Voldemort is defeated and Harry Potter survives or -

The world is doomed. And you die.

Mission Updated: Arrive at Hogwarts and meet Harry +1000 SBPs

Special Story Mission: Actually be a good enough Defense Against the Arts Professor to make it back the next year

Reward: 10000 SBPs

Objective: Harry becomes competent in 5 new battle spells

Reward: 500 SBPs

Objective: Harry becomes competent in 10 new battle spells

Reward: 800 SBPs

….

The list of objectives continues listing milestones most of which deal with Harry. My eyes begin to glisten with tears. The more things change the more they stay the same.

I must exploit Harry Potter, or my name isn't Gilderoy Lockhart.

I continue to shake Harry's hand even as my eyes glisten. He tries to take back his hand. "I'm sorry. I'm just so happy to meet you," I say.

"Today's class was certainly, er, interesting," Hermione says.

"Yeah, interesting is a word for it," Ron mutters under his breath.

"Oh, now, now. You won't even become as mighty as Gilderoy Lockhart without the hard work Ron," I say. "Don't let me keep you from your next class," I say.

The days begin to blur together at Hogwarts. Days turn into a week, into two weeks. There are no further attempts on my life. With the increase, in the castle wards, I'm not too worried. Rather, I need to focus on getting stronger during this quiet spell.

I attempt to find more Hogwarts Mysteries but make little progress. The castle is big and my luck isn't so good. I consider bribing the Weasley twins or simply stealing their map, but I'm not quite that desperate yet. I visit the library in search of old tomes that might give me memories. I find some intriguing possibilities but hesitate to buy.

I am sitting on a fair amount of Shameless Bastard Points, but Hogwarts isn't quite the haven I first imagined. The children are acclimating to my shamelessness too fast. Or, rather, the shock value is gone. It seems being shameless 24/7 may be the same as not being shameless at all.

The ascent to wizard-godhood is quite steep.

I am running out of ideas. Farting in public can only get you so far. Harry seems my next best bet but after our awkward first meeting, he wants nothing to do with me.

In the second week of class, Hermione is actually the first to break. She raises her hand, clenching her muscles so tightly she looks as if she was struck with petrificus totalus.

"Yes, Ms. Granger?" I say.

"Professor, not that I don't love listening to your lectures. I do, but, well, will we actually perhaps get to do some magic?" she says.

At my silence, she lowers her hand looking unsure for a moment but decides to press on anyway. "Would it perhaps be a better use of class time for more practical applications, or perhaps demonstrations," I raise my eyebrows and she rushes on. "It's not that we don't enjoy your books, we do, but the reading for the books was already assigned outside of class, so reading it again in class just seems a little..."

"A little?"

"Lame," she finishes miserably. I see her face turn bright red. It seems she might even burst into tears at any moment.

Ah, Hermione Granger. The teacher's pet. At this point in her student career, she should still be hesitant to contradict teachers. Especially, the dashing Gilderoy Lockhart. Despite that, I managed to do such a horrible job, even she couldn't help herself. Learning it seems trumps even her admiration. I feel both a little proud of my own shamelessness and a little guilty for sabotaging their education so badly.

I slowly begin to clap. She looks a bit confused. "Indeed, me sitting here reading the book line for line is incredibly boring. It is hardly even educating at all. At best it can be considered torture and gross negligence of my duty."

Hermione sputters. "N-no, I never meant to accuse-"

I can't fight Hermione's expectant brown eyes. The SBPs just aren't worth it at this point. It seems I will actually have to give in and do my job after all. But first to spin this my way.

"Bravo! Congratulations Ms. Granger. You have passed my test."

"Test?" she says perking up.

"To be a true master of defense against the dark arts and stand against evil you need the heart of an adventurer. You must look underneath the underneath. "

I begin to pace in the classroom. "If you want to be great, you must have the courage to contradict the status quo. If I was merely content to follow along with the masses, I would never have risen to greatness. You must do what others fear to do. Go where others fear to tread. Stand against darkness when others would flee. We won't settle for ordinary. We will be extraordinary."

"Twenty points to Gryffindor for seeing underneath the underneath," I say. I am not sure what I just said, but she seems happy. I have the other students' attention as well.

"I think you're reading is so boring I'd rather take a stinging curse to the balls!" a boy leaps to his feet saying, Seamus Finnigan, I think.

"Yes!" I say "5 points to Gryffindor.

"It was so boring I fell asleep with my eyes own," Parvati Patil says.

"Yes, it was boring. +1 points to Gryffindor," I say.

"I think you're teaching sucks!" Ron shouts jumping out of his chair.

"Now that's just rude, Ron, really," I say. He wilts and sits back down. "Now put away your books and move your desks aside," I say. "Tell me, in battle, what's the most important thing?"

"To beat the other guy," one boy says. I'll pretend he's Dean.

"Yes, that's important. Any other ideas?" I say.

"To know the enemy's weaknesses," Lavender Brown says.

"Yes, surprisingly insightful Lavender. Anyone else? What do you think Harry?"

He looks up in surprise but gives it some thought. Thinking back to Harry hunting days I'm sure. "To not get hit. To getaway."

"Exactly! Very good Harry. +5 points. Hitting the other guy is all well and good, and knowing their weaknesses lets you hit even better. But before all of that, survival is the most important thing. First, you need to learn not to get hit."

"Can't we just use a shield charm," Seamus says.

"You can indeed. But you might not everything is blockable. Shield spells also use a lot of stamina. And if you're facing a magically more powerful opponent, they can actually break your shield. That's why your first lesson is how to dodge."

I learned something interesting from playing with Rowena's quill. With her quill I receive a +5 to spell creation and arithmancy. An expert's level is from 8-10, putting me at an intermediate level. Realistically my success rate for spell creation should be fairly low. Indeed, trying to make something like a flaming shield, or a laser beam of death ended in utter failure. Making useless spells, though?

Almost 100% success. The system seemed to treat anything below a certain skill level as fair game, meaning if I wanted to invent a spell to change colors, I could. A spells to make fart sounds. I did it. A spell to remove stains from my robes. I've got it.

And, a spell to summon and launch paintballs?

Create Spell: Summon Paintball Spell? 10 SBPs

"How do we learn that?" Hermione asks.

"You don't get hit!" I say launching a paintball at her and causing her to scream in pain and terror.

The class erupts into chaos as I launch paintball after paintball at the Gryffindors staining their robes in tie-dye colors. Harry manages to dodge the paintballs, zig-zagging from side to side. Neville grabs a desk and lifts if using it as a shield.

"Cheating, but creative. I'll allow it," I say launching a barrage of paintballs at him.

Soon the class is lying on the ground huffing and lying in puddles of paint. "Wizards tend to have poor fitness," I say. "It's only natural given the luxuries magic provides. In a fight, you have to be able to keep moving. Your first homework assignment is two-fold," I say.

"First, you will run a lap around the castle every day. Consider this a semester project. It will be a proportionate amount of your grade. Second, you will explore the castle on the weekend. Each of you choose a partner and by next Friday I want a written report on a hidden passage or room in the castle. 8 inches! Now, dismissed," I say making up something on the spot.

Ding!

Object Met: Teach Harry something remotely useful +100 SBPs.

I smile. I hit a rut in shamelessness, but the system was opening up a new path in shamelessness for me. Isn't the most shameless thing to actually be who I say I am and receive accolades without earning any of it? Indeed, my system and my very nature are shameless.

It's not enough to just be a bastard. It's not enough to just be shameless. I have to be a shameless bastard, reaping benefits at others' expense.

I feel like I have obtained a new level of enlightenment. I don't live shamelessly. Shamelessness isn't simply what I do. Shamelessness is who I am. This is the so-called returning to the origin phase, like a newborn, I am shamelessness brought into the world.

With a groan, the students crawl out of the room from a new kind of pain. I sit idly at my desk and begin pulling out books. The word would spread now. Call Lockhart's bluff, and he will teach you! It's a hidden test!

Uncommon Book of Studious Hogwarts Student. Siphon Memories? 500 SBP

"Yes," I say.

One by one, I begin siphoning books. I wouldn't use all of my points. I had to save them for the next rare item I found.

As long as I began teaching Harry useful survival skills, I would get more points. If I couldn't go to him, I'd have to get him to come to me. The best way to do that would to actually be a good teacher. The true groundbreaker would be the dueling club. If I could show my awesomeness in the club, I'm sure Harry would be willing to let me teach him and the points would come pouring in.

For that, I would of course need a sacrificial lamb.